Page 2 of Love Delayed

Six more months had passed, and my desire to attend culinary school hadn’t faded. I only wanted it more. I just had to figure out how to make it happen without creating more debt and stress for myself. While searching the internet, I came across a school in Atlanta that offered scholarship options for which I might qualify. After a bit more digging, I found more schools in different states. Feeling I was on to something, I started the grueling process of applying to those schools with hopes of being accepted and able to attend on a full scholarship. Four weeks later, my prayers were answered when I received a letter from a school in Columbia, Maryland, offering me a full scholarship. I was over the moon and couldn’t wait to share the news with Marcus, who had no idea I had been submitting applications.

That night after dinner, I slid the welcome letter over to him. With a big smile, I awaited his words of congratulations, but the reaction I received from him was not what I had anticipated.

“What?” he barked.

“I got a full scholarship to attend culinary school in Maryland for thirteen months,” I announced excitedly, then again waited for him to join me in my enthusiasm.

Marcus looked at me for a moment, then laughed out loud.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked, confused.

“Because this is some bullshit, Zee. Maryland? When did we start making life-changing plans without discussing them with each other first?” he barked.

“Marc, it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t making plans behind your back. I was only trying to see if I could get into a school without us having to shell out any money. It’s time for me to go after my dreams. You know how bad I want this, how bad I need this. This wasn’t about you,” I confessed.

He laughed even louder. “Nothing is ever about me or what I want or need. Fine, go and do you, Zee. Don’t let me stop you!” he spat, then stood up from the table and walked away.

“Babe, you, of all people, know that cooking is my passion,” I shouted while running after him. “This is a golden opportunity. I thought you would be happy for me.”

“It’s whatever, Zee. When are you leaving?”

Well, damn,I thought to myself.

“This isn’t the end of us, Marc. I’m just going away for about thirteen months, that’s all,” I said in a now somber tone.

With a chuckle, he replied, “Call it how you wanna call it. Planning to be in an entirely different state for over a damn year without giving me a heads-up is bogus, Zee. I should have been in on your plans long ago. I should have been involved in this decision. How do you just decide this shit without me?” he barked before leaving the room.

I stood there contemplating what to do. I thought in my heart that he would be elated for me––that he would support me because he knew how much cooking meant to me, but that wasn’t the case. After that night, he started coming home later and later. We barely talked; we argued about everything, and our lovemaking was no longer passionate or intimate. If all of that wasn’t bad enough, two weeks before my scheduled departure, he asked me to put my things in storage before I left.

“Why are you abandoning our relationship, Marc? I thought you loved me,” I cried.

I didn’t want our relationship to end. I wanted to come back to him.

“I do love you, Zee, but just like you are trying to place yourself in life, I’m on that same shit. Thirteen months is a long time to be apart, and you didn’t even consult with me or consider how I would feel before you made that decision. Your selfishness has broken something in me, Zee,” he said, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Marc, I can admit I am doing this solely for me, but never in a thousand years did I think you wouldn’t support me, or that our relationship would have to end because of it.”

He let out a deep-throated chuckle. “Not telling me your plans gives me major pause, Zee. You say you wanted to do it on your own, but did it ever cross your mind that I could have paid for you to go to school? All you had to do was open your mouth and communicate to me what you wanted and how you were feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you decided to be a selfish-ass person and decide what you needed to do for yourself without thinking what it would do to us. It’s like what I thought we had, we don’t. So, find time to pack up all your things. I wish you well,” he said coldly before walking out the door.

My knees buckled, and I quickly grabbed the kitchen sink to keep from hitting the floor. I had no idea my leaving for school would end our relationship. I loved him so much and didn’t understand how he could just cut me off like that, as if what we had meant nothing to him. We had talked about marriage and kids. We were so in love and happy together. Now, we were nothing.

Once I called my mother and told her my situation, she arranged for a moving crew to come within the week to take my things and place them in a small storage unit. When I told my parents about my plans to quit my job and go to culinary school, my mother disagreed with my decision but spoke her peace and wished me well.

The short stay with my parents flew by quickly, and it was time to leave. As promised, my big sister, Zaria, was at my folks’ place at 4:00 a.m. to get me to Midway Airport for my flight. I kissed my parents goodbye and gave them tight hugs. Once in Zaria’s SUV, I texted Marcus again. I had texted and called him several times the night before, hoping we could reconcile before my departure, but he never replied or answered. My last text to him that morning read,I will never stop loving you.After three days went by with no response, I told myself to let him go despite my heart wanting to hold on.

As my sister weaved in and out of traffic, I thought about the lesson I had learned from being in a relationship with Marcus: self-love, self-care, and unwavering things for oneself may be selfish to some, but at the end of all days, I belong to myself. I must always put my wants and needs first. How can I make someone else happy if I’m not completely happy?

I was far from mad with Marcus. He had every right to feel all the feelings he experienced. The only thing I prayed and begged The Most High to do was to allow Marcus to forgive me one day. I loved him, but I loved me more. I had let my parents coax me into getting a business degree instead of going to culinary school for a business degree, but no longer would I deny myself the things I wanted in life. And I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.

Marcus Diaz-Coleman

The Grand Reopening

Squeezing Zamora’s hand tightly, I smiled at the crowd. After two decades of hotel/hospitality experience, I would own my first piece of property. Anyone else might have been thrilled about this, but I wanted to run out of the decorated lobby as fast as my legs would carry me. I did not want this for the rest of my life, but unfortunately, no one with ears heard me except Zee. She had told me throughout college that I should take a stand, but I couldn’t bring myself to let my parents down. I didn’t want this baton passed to me. However, being an only child, I was the only one in line to take over for my parents.

Allow me to give you a little back history. My great-grandparents came to America decades ago from Venezuela with their five children, two brothers, their wives, and their kids. They came with everything they owned at the time and ended up purchasing a small hotel that only had twenty-five rooms. Since the place needed much work, the brothers lived on the property with their families while they did the renovations themselves. They utilized five of the rooms for their living quarters and made a nice profit over the first couple of years, putting them in a position to invest in another property and, over the years, even more properties.

By the time my uncle and mother were born, collectively, my family owned multiple hotels. After my uncle took over two locations, my mother stepped in to run the other two when my grandpa got ill. My grandpa had four properties when he died, so I grew up in a hotel environment. My mother maintained the hotels well with my grandmother’s and other relative’s support. When she met my dad at a brand conference in Austin, they grew close over a short period, and before long, he moved from Texas to Chicago to be with and marry my mother.

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