Page 14 of Lost In London

“Can you at least answer the phone when I call? There’s a lot we need to talk about.” India wasn’t giving up and I respected her effort, but our time had ended. She made that decision and had to live with it.

One thing I hated was that she questioned our relationship.

She stepped into our relationship heart wide open and I protected that, I cherished that but in the end, it wasn’t good enough for her.

No one on this earth needed to tell me that I was an intense man.

I knew how I was.

She loved the way I loved her. Loved how I loved on her. Loved how I provided for her and how I did everything possible to protect our relationship and all I asked in return was that she respects it and communicates with me.

Something shifted in me when she started asking for me to scale back on how I loved her. We didn’t have typical relationship problems. Our problems came from me trying to force her into a mold she was never meant to fit. My main gift is that I’m a teacher. Not just for my students but a teacher of many things.

India never once asked me to teach her how to receive what I had to give and wanted. Whereas I asked her to teach me how to love her with each changing season we experienced, it wasn’t reciprocated. You’d think after being together so long she could open her mouth since she opened it for everything else.

The craziest part about it and why I take full responsibility is that I ignored the red flags and discernment of my own spirit to feed the greed of my flesh. I wanted India. I was obsessed with the idea of marriage and ready to settle down and give my all to my wife. I disregarded my own preaching that I give to others - wait and pray.

I did pray but I ignored the answers given because they weren’t what I wanted to hear.

Simply put, I let India go after she turned down my marriage proposal. She wasn’t sure if I was the man for her. Her words. I had to let us go. But now, a year later after our breakup, she knows what she wants.

Hell no.

A love lost, yes, but another could be found.

“I can’t promise that, India.” It blew my mind that she now thought I was the man for her after we broke up but didn’t think so while we were together.

“Wow.” Her eyes watered as she bit her lip. “As much as you loved me you’d think you would be a little nicer to me. I know I broke your heart but…”

“You didn’t break anything. Hurt me, yes. What you did was set us both free to be with those whom we’re supposed to be with. That’s it.” I shrugged, growing tired and irritated with the conversation.

“Right.” Looking down at the gift bag in her hand, she sniffled. “Take care, Quincey.” Before she made it to her car I was out of the parking lot headed toward downtown to meet my brother.

Agreeing to counseling with Bishop once a week came from me wanting to make sure I exhausted all efforts and had peace knowing I tried everything when India rejected my hand in marriage and told me my love wasn’t what she wanted to receive the rest of her life. I never felt that type of pain in my life. It took me a long time to heal those wounds and come to grips that she and I weren’t meant to be.

I tried, Lord knows I did.

Agreeing to counseling after we broke up is evidence of me still trying but I just couldn’t open myself up to her like that again.

I didn’t trust her.

I didn’t trust that she wasn’t doing all of this out of selfishness because she knew I was a good man, a damn good man regardless of how out of breath I left her.

Circling back around for what?

I get it, she had to lose what she had to appreciate me but I wasn’t the one or the two to take her back.

“Welcome to Smitty’s. How many are dining with us this afternoon?”

“Two but I think my brother is already here. Is there a back deck area?” I’ve been trying to get to the new Black-owned restaurant since it opened last December but it was hard to step away from all that I had going on.

“Yes, sir. Just head straight back and you’ll run right into it.”

“Thank you.” Following the hostess's directions, I maneuvered between the tables and dining customers until I reached…

“Surprise!”

“Congratulations, Quincey!”

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