Let Me Cater to You?

I was on my way to work this morning when this song came on; I think Destiny's Child is the artist. I could be wrong though. It has a nice flow to it; I was just listening to it, not really paying attention to the words. Then, all of a sudden it hit me - the words. I listened to them. She's singing about catering to some man! Okay...call me a selfish b*tch, but I don't believe in catering to nobody but myself.

I am not about to run no bath water or tie no shoes. Hell no! Sure, I believe in helping a guy out, being supportive and encouraging, but catering? I am all about 50/50. You do something for me; I'll do something for you. Maybe, I'm too independent...but I just couldn't do that - cater to a man's needs.

I admire independence in a man. Like my poem "Boyfriend Prayer." I want him to iron his own shirts, wash his own clothes, heat his own tortillas (I got that from an excerpt from Sandra Cisneros - gotta give my idol credit). I guess since I believe in being a girlfriend, not a mama to a man. He already has his mama, I hope. I don't want to come up as some replacement or threat to their relationship.

I just admire independence in people. I see nothing wrong with a couple helping each other out, but nombre, when it's running the bath water, that's too much in my opinion. Someone reading this may be thinking "no wonder she's single." Oh well, I set my standards and my expectations; I've learned something important "don't settle."

Maybe, I'm still bitter from my past relationship. My friends think I'm healing, making progress, and opening myself up "to love" again. I think back to that relationship...you know, Juan....In some ways, I did cater to him. I did. I wanted to make him happy every time he was here with me. I wanted to hug him and comfort him. Yes, I have that nurturing instinct. He had his independent traits; there were times that he pushed me away. I understood this during those times. Then there were those times that I wanted to comfort him, wanted him to talk about his problems, wanted him to seek my help, wanted him to freakin' call me! And, he didn't... Sometimes, I feel that I tried being that "catering, nurturing girlfriend" and I failed. Something went wrong; not completely my fault. Actually, I do not think it's my fault at all. Like my friends tell me : Juan couldn't be a man and talk to me the right way so he lost me. I dreaded breaking up with him; I did. I kept thinking I'm going to break Juan's heart. He's going through a tough time; he needs some time alone. I kept thinking about him and his feelings then something inside me snapped. My family and my friends kept talking to me. They kept seeing me crying. Yes, unfortunately I've cried over men before. And, I don't mean like little soft sniffles. I mean, CRY. Lay my head on my pillow and bawl. Look around my bedroom and everything reminds me of him. I lay in bed and the moment my head touches the softness of my pillow, I remember....So, the tears came, falling uncontrollably. My sadness, loneliness, and longing exploding like a bomb of tears and pain.

I was in the middle of a research paper, the topic: finding true love. I used to think Juan was my soul mate; I was happy that I found that person who fit so well into my life. I knew the paper was due on Friday and this was the weekend before. I am a good student, dedicated student. I take my time on research. That Saturday night of Easter weekend, I read through my green folder of research, got annoyed with all the discussion on love and tossed it aside. Held my pillow against me and cried some more. Turned to another story about voodoo. I'm a nut - I have a VARIETY of interests. I'm reading about how the author may have gotten poisoned by voodoo; I'm thinking - man, that's too sad; she had to die so young. Yes, in your forties is young to me. My cell phone rings for the first time that night. I answer it and there he is: no, not Juan. But a good friend. He notices my voice, it's weak, it's softer than usual, it's hurting. I sniffle and take a deep breath, trying to hold my emotions. Then my good friend says, "I'm not going to say poor Juan anymore. I am going to say poor Elsie because you are HURTING!" I exhaled slowly. "You know what? You're right." I said to him. Then, he told me something very important, ahh this friend is full of lessons I tell you. "Elsie, what about YOUR feelings? You need to think about yourself. You shouldn't be worried about some boyfriend who isn't even worried about you." I sighed heavily, letting out more pain with each exhale. And, he changed the subject, refusing to allow me to dwell on my pain.

Although Easter weekend was a little lonely, I wised up that weekend. I was embarassed when my family asked for "my nice boyfriend," espeically my nephew who was so close to Juan. I had to blink away the tears and smile, find my strength to be single again. Thank goodness, I went to church because without God I wouldn't be here today. He's always there for me in my life experiences, helping me, guiding me, leading me. I decided then that I needed to think about myself more and my feelings and give Juan that freedom to do so. Release him..let him be alone as he chose. with hope though. Hope that he would return to me and toss his pride aside and have "it together," you know what I mean? That hope died. The candle flame blew out in May. And, that's the end of the story of Elsie and Juan. Forever shut. What is left but a lesson and tiny pain that is healing, yes I'm healing. I am glad my family has stopped mentioning his name and throwing my mistakes in my face. Glad that I am able to talk to other guys and not compare them to Juan. Glad that I can smile brightly as I did that first day out to "lunch" with my friend as a single woman. Glad I can refer back to my poem "Boyfriend Prayer" and say "I may be ALONE, but I'm ALIVE." And, damn I'm going to live this life. Life is short, too damn short to be crying over some man.

I did not expect Juan to be real open about his emotions or whatever the hell was happening. I know men aren't emotional; they don't discuss feelings. I am not stupid; I know this. I have plenty of male friends who emphasize certain differences between men and women. But c'mon now, when you promise to be my support and how we are each other's backbones, at least do it, even if it's a half-ass job. I shouldn't be writing about Juan on here since it is "the Internet." I use our relationship as an example of how I tried the "catering, nurturing" already.

Maybe, I'll try again to "nurturing." Life is full of risks after all. I won't be catering though. I won't spend my money on a guy until he spends money on me. Money is just money. I don't give a damn about money or materialistic things. I'll buy my own things, but I am not going to go out of my way to buy Christmas gifts for someone and he doesn't even show up for Christmas!

Note to reader: That's the first time I write about the "break-up." I never had the time, before. Never made the time before. Never wanted to waste words on some man. But you know what? As I've said before, writing is my release. I feel good now that I've written about it. I feel that the healing process is making progress. My wounds are being covered with a scab, not a scar. That scab will disappear; I know it will.