Date 14 - The Strategist (Part 3)

Oct 27

The Scene: Flying from Atlanta to Chicago with a stop in Kansas, Missouri
The Attire: Black high-waisted jeans, black tank, leather jacket, heeled boots
The Meeting: His temporary turf
The Environment: I arrived, our connection was rocky, and our relationship redefined.

This would be my third state in five days, and I was exhausted. He had been working like an indentured servant and was exhausted as well. After a five-hour flight delay, truth be told, I just wanted to go to the hotel and sleep, BUT I was excited to see the Strategist, so I took one for the team. I got to the hotel, checked in, and made my way to his downtown apartment overlooking the bustle of the city.

He attempted giving me directions, but they did not match up to what I was seeing. After six circles around the block, and construction barricading entrances, I was at my wit’s end. I sensed him getting frustrated, and I was already there in frustration.

My thought, why couldn’t he come down to help me?

On my self-professed final attempt to find this mysterious locale, I pulled around the corner to find a car that had opened the garage to his building and was going inside. I tailgated them, finally found a parking space, and texted him, “I have parked, but I am about 2 minutes from going back to the hotel.” He responded that he was on his way down.

He arrived with a dismissive disposition.

He peeked out and yelled, “Come on!” then murmured more to himself, “It’s cold out here, you need to come NOW!”

I thought to myself, the hell I will go into his house with that attitude.

So, I asked, “What’s up?”

He's angry. He starts yelling at me, insisting that I am disrespectful, calling me a liar. I was shocked! Shook! Flabbergasted! After I picked my mouth off the floor, I began to question him, "Why are you so angry? Why are you shouting? Strategist, seriously, what is all this about?"

He continues, "Don't threaten me, go back to the hotel if you want to, do I need to show you what you texted, you can't talk to me like shit…"

I just watch him, thinking, I simply texted, "I am two minutes from going back to the hotel." I didn't cuss you; I didn't scream at you; I didn't berate you.”

At this point, I just place my hands on his face and say, “Strategist, I don’t want to fight, I am not doing this with you, I don’t have the energy or the capacity. I can’t do this with you,” and before I know it, tears begin to fall.

He shepherds me into the elevator and begins to apologize profusely.

At that moment, something for me clicked. I don’t argue, I don’t believe in screaming and yelling (that’s immature communication; in my humble opinion), and I can’t take on other people’s stuff. I have worked too hard on unloading my own stuff. This inevitably led to our demise as I no longer trusted or shall I say, my heart no longer felt safe in his presence.

Note to Self: Know your worth.
Shout Out to Men: Deal with your stuff so that you don’t project it onto others.
Question: Why does getting to 10 seem so effortless, but coming down seems like an impossibility?