Halfway Ever After

Dear Male Species, 

I have been highly in review of you over the past couple years and what I’ve noticed and pondered upon is that you didn’t grow up with the dream of Happily Ever After the way we girls did. Which is the only reason I can think of to explain why you would be so content to settle for Halfway Ever After.

Sounds like a harsh criticism of your kind, I know, and I am very aware of that but this is the way it occurs for me in regards to most, definitely not all, of the male species. You have this amazing woman who is the total package and is willing to commit her life to yours in exactly the way you want her to and just when things are going great, at the same exact moment that she’s starting to think about Happily Ever After you convince yourself that it’s not the right time, not the right place, not the right moment financially, not the right something and you leave. You may start out mentally walking away, followed by an emotional castration and eventually the physical movement out of the relationship, the interaction or the dynamic. You convince yourself that it just isn’t right and we’re left in the sidelines being the good friend, the understanding ex, the patient woman who wonders how the hell our Happily Ever After has just turned into Sadly But Never.

From here, with your new conviction, that you know what you need, what’s right for you in your life you move into the next stage of getting what’s in accordance with your new decision for right and you marry that woman who had on the multi-colored tube socks on the sidelines of your basketball game. The one who accepted your offer for a date on the first asking and merely shrugged her agreement when you suggested Waffle House. From here you decide she’s the one, I mean look at all the ways she shows how much she loves you: She goes through your phone, your pockets, your emails and stalks you on facebook every single day. She busted out your car windows when she found out you talked to your female friend from high school on the phone for an hour and twice she has poked holes in the condom. She’s clearly the one you should marry. Suddenly there you are, you’ve got your Halfway Ever After. You’re miserable and every opportunity you get you call your ex for stimulating, interesting conversation, for relationship advice and just because. You spend as much time at work in order to avoid going home and you are always the first to volunteer for any out of town business trips, particularly if they’re in the same town as your ex.

What damsel in distress? What princess who needs a kiss? What white horse to ride in on? That sounds like the stuff that Happily Ever After is made of and you’ve already made your decision to settle for Halfway Ever After.

Ten years ago I flew into an Chicago International Airport to meet my best friend and two of her male friends for a road trip the four of us were planning to take that weekend. She was the connection amongst us but we’d never met.  My girl’s anticipation at seeing them had landed us there an hour too early and so we were sitting at a table waiting on them. Since I no idea what they looked like I was mainly flipping pages in a magazine trying to keep from falling asleep.  I watched dozens of people go by until at last my girl jumped up and ran over to these two brothas that were standing in one of the airport newsstands looking at a magazine rack.  She jumped on the back of the taller, lighter skinned one and they both swept her into their arms planting kisses on her face. I sat at the table watching, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and a little insecure in that I wondered if I’d set myself up to be left out this weekend.  She excitedly pulled them by the hands over to me and I stood to my feet for introductions, giving them both a distant hug and trying to get a peek at them.

From the airport we went back to her house where were staying for the weekend and the one I’m choosing to call Malcolm, for the purpose of this blog, lay next to me on the couch putting his head in my lap. Instinctively I began to stroke his head and twist his dreads a little tighter.  Later that same day the one I’m choosing to call Borgi and I went to the store to get some chicken to cook up for that evening.  In the car on the way over there Borgi and I talked and just fired questions back and forth at one another, finally relenting to the admission that we had a serious connection.  If we weren’t firing off the same questions we were in total agreement with the other’s answer. At that point Borgi became someone in my life that I could trust, share myself with and over the years he taught me the true meaning of friendship through the good and the bad. Then there became a point, a moment in time when I realized that not only was he someone I could and would call my best friend for the rest of my life, he was one I could celebrate Happily Ever After with now and forever.

This revelation brought him to his knees and he went through all his “not-the-rights” until it became clear I just wasn’t the right girl. I was the one who could bring him Happily Ever After which was totally out of alignment with the Halfway Ever After he was fixated on bringing into his life. Within a year he was married, he now has two children and he’s miserable, calls me frequently, travels to my state on business as often as possible and stays at work as late as possible, as often as possible.

What damsel in distress? What princess who needs a kiss? What white horse to ride in on? That sounds like the stuff that Happily Ever After is made of and he’s resigned to his decision to settle for Halfway Ever After.

I can’t explain it. I just know that it is. Weigh in…what are your thoughts? Am I wrong? Way off base? Or have you experienced the Halfway Ever After?

Love Always,

Sunny

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