How could we be strangers again? How could you have gone from all in one Tuesday morning to simply not caring that very evening? You did everything to woo me, to attract me, for me to care, for me to like you, for me to love you.
You knew you had a poet on your hands. You knew from the beginning. You wooed me anyway. You wrote me in superlatives - words that no earth-bound human could properly live up to. But you penned them anyway. You invited me to all the vegan places I had heard about but never been. You made yourself available in every manner of the word. You invited me to many musical and cultural outings, you drove me up and down and to anywhere I wanted. You wrote me that you were making space in your life, turning your life entirely around. You wrote me that you saw life in color once more, that you felt like an artist and that you wished to travel with me. You repeated these words until they became a beautiful tapestry and a wonderful year ahead for us. You asked me to trust, to be open. You told me that I didn't frighten you - that what would separate us would be merely death or me leaving you. You would drive all the way from South Miami around midnight to bring me back my cell phone - and you added a sonnet to the care package. You told me you were going to write me more sonnets than Shakespeare had written and that there were many canvases to be filled with your view and interpretation of my body and soul from here on. You would spend all night writing me a most profound, heartfelt letter - little to no effusion left unturned, no wish left unexpressed, no wonder left unaddressed. You drove to see me after having seven staples placed on a wound on your head. You invited me to your mother's home and introduced me to Marci (told me that you had felt like saying I love you while showing me her Babylonian garden). You invited me to stay with you at the hotel, you invited me into your home. You extended a standing invitation for me to sleep there any night. You repeated this invitation. You bought a lavender soap for me to shower with; you bought another pine scented essential oil to place by the bed. You asked me to be yours, to claim you as mine during our most intimate togetherness. You cooked tasty vegan meals for me and you listened to my musings.
And maybe, most importantly, you gave me the most perfect gift someone could have given me - the ever so elusive typewriter.
You gave me my favorite scent with a vaporizing kit. You remembered my favorite tea flavor - Ginger Lemongrass - on board the Eclipse and gifted me a 48- pack. You would drive late at night just so we could sleep entwined in each other. You would call late in the evening asking what I was doing, wanting to see me. You would drive up at a moment's notice, partaking in any event I was interested in. You would ask me if I'd still like you if you revealed your most heinous act. You would say that you were willing to try anything with me. The flag I was asked to make to mark my queendom, you mentioned we could tattoo on our skin. You said you liked waking up next to me and you said you liked my energy. You introduced me to the people, who are dear in your life, who have a current say in your well being. You paid an Uber to drive me all the way to Homestead so I could meet two of the most essential people in your current life to lead your passion forward. You were kind, so kind. You were gentle and you were understanding. You were here with me, right here. You hugged me so closely and kissed me so ferociously and declared your affections so openly. You sent me your first letter written on crafted paper via priority mail. The first sentence: I think of you incessantly. You told me that we met under a good omen, that the Orishas had a hand in this, that we were their marionettes. You told me that the cryssacolla stone I gave you was the one your spiritual mentor needed for a divine object. You met my friends and spent time getting to know them. You didn't skirt any effort to be in the same space with me. You were available, entirely available. You listened to my music and watched the movie I couldn't stop talking about. You spent time thinking about it, communicating your thoughts. You listened to my favorite song, played it on your guitar, sent me varying renditions of it. You wanted to teach me Tango and take me to open mic night. You wished me to be dangerously empowered. You wanted to play music with me and establish a creative space for me. In that vein, you asked me to bring my Underwood to your home. You asked where I wished to do yoga inside your home. You sent me pictures of bedroom sets and bed sheet covers asking my opinion...and I later found out you had ordered my favorite. You told me that our first kiss happened under the auspices of Yemaya and a grinning Cheshire cat. It all felt destined, certainly not a fleeting dalliance without consequence. You were building momentum. You were painting a most beguiling picture. This was not laid out initially as a day-to-day and a let us see. This was full throttle motion, full ahead. There was a plan, there were visions, they were in the makes of being fulfilled.
So, with this all aired out, is it out of line to ask, to scream my question
What happened from then to now?
Why, from one day to the next was I literally shown the metaphorical, the proverbial door?
Why the sudden, drastic shift? Why am I now thinking of you and feeling estranged, utterly and completely estranged
Where did the kindness go? Where did the care go?
Where did all this good will, all these affections and effusions suddenly migrate to?
Where did your kindness vanish to? Suddenly there is only cold unconcerned rhetoric and plenty of ruthless silence
Invitations revoked, items returned, tone ranging from cool to controlling to demanding
What could have happened inside your mind? What caused this major turn about? If it's numbness, is there not a better, kinder way to communicate it? Where did the assertion flee that you wouldn't want anything bad to happen to me? Where did this consideration disappear to? Now, I don't even know how to approach you. I don't know at all where I stand. I don't know what we are *wait, better put* what we were all this time. How can things shift so dramatically in one day's time? How can communication break down so uncompromisingly? Where did the sweet thoughts of us, the desire to engage in an us, the talks about tantra, about making lavish art, about diving into the world around us, where did you stash them?
All seems as if it never were. All of what I wrote above feels like a fever dream, like some elaborate mental scheme to will away the mundane every day. Now it feels as if I had been the one driving this on, all on my own, all along. Suddenly, it feels like I have been alone in this, because, I, on my end, cannot simply turn off the care, the attraction, the affection, the feeling. You have left me standing out in the cold knowing it hurts me. You have let silence enter when questions have been nagging and answers are needed. You disappeared without announcing it. You went from the kindest, nicest, most affectionate human being to someone - I don't know - someone I cannot gauge or feel out at all. It feels as if I don't and I never was meant to know you - and it's a damn ugly feeling.
This- is someone who couldn't care less about my emotions. This is - someone who could not care less about what I think, what I write and wonder about. This is a person who is not thinking anymore of sonnets or of creative collaborations. This is a person who is only thinking of unfucking himself of this situation that has become a burden to him, seemingly. This is no longer an Endoki in love. This is someone who can't wait to untie our currently related destinies. This is a person who is not at all missing my presence, who isn't missing anything, apparently, that relates to us.
In one day's time, it seemingly all evaporated. All the beautiful potentiality, all the cradling, heartwarming reality, - all gone. There seems nothing left of it.
And I am left to thinking - what - in the world - went wrong? What could I have said or done or failed to say or do that led to all this coldness, this vibe of "I don't care anymore". "I want you out." "You annoy me." "I'll do my thing and be over here - away from you". And maybe, possibly, this has nothing to do with me, and if such is the case, then why would kindness not continue to dictate the day? Why would there be such carelessness? Why would our communication break down in such a craven manner?
What led to this 180 degree cluster flip? It feels cruel. It feels rash. It feels - so - unnecessary. Even if feelings slip away, can't the kindness stay??????