Recently I went home, Los Angeles, to visit my family and to celebrate a friend getting married in the upcoming months. Every time I go home I have a different experience and I'm open to whatever comes my way. Sometimes the experiences are good and others times not so good, but this particular visit made me appreciate my life and the man I have in it. I stopped by my second mother's home, who is actually the mother of my high school love, to catch up and spend some quality time with her. We've remained close over the years and she is family, how could I not stop by to see her? Once I walk in her house I'm greeted with hugs and kisses by both her and her granddaughter, the oldest of four.
As I'm holding an adult conversation with this nine year old chocolate beauty, I flashback to the year 2002, when her mother was pregnant with her. There I was, living next door to an ex-boyfriend who I was still very much in love with, but hid it through minimal eye contact and nonchalant behavior. Everyday I'd sneak a glimpse of this young girl waddle past my bedroom window and down the steps, dying inside knowing with every fiber of my body that God had made the biggest mistake of all time, allowing this girl to have his child and not me. Unspeakable thoughts would roam through my head and I regretted taking the apartment right next door to him. I fooled myself into thinking I could handle the situation and it was a great opportunity to finally leave the nest and live on my own, but at the cost of what? My sanity?
I gazed into this little girl's eyes smiling at the way she spoke and how engaged she was in me and our conversation. This little girl, who I didn't even want to be here at one point, was laughing and talking with me, in awe of Trudi, Daddy's high school girlfriend who now lives in New York. She told me about her two sisters and new little brother all made by daddy, but with different mothers. She didn't seem to question why her siblings weren't with her mommy and daddy, all she knew was that she was the oldest of the three and she loved it.
As she went down the list describing the personalities of each little person all I could think was, "THANK. YOU. GOD!" One of those women could have been me and I'd be stuck, here, living a life that isn't to my full potential. There was a picture that sat in the living room of him and his three girls, adorable and loving this picture was, but that life still couldn't be mine. Again, I thought back to 2002 and how angry I was with God. I had a plan with this man, which was to have a Love and Basketball happy ending, but that's kind of hard to do when there are multiple children involved with various women. Thank GOD! Thank God I had sense enough and the courage to leave that life behind, wishful thinking that I accepted wouldn't be my reality and literally moved away and on with my life.
I was trying to put words to the gratitude I felt toward God in leading me into the life I was meant to live and with the person, at this very moment, I am supposed to be living it with. A man who has a stable career, is loving, affectionate, is proud of the women he has, childless and above all is a MAN. Yesterday, as I rode through the streets of New York in my drop top blasting Beyonce's new single, I wholeheartedly sang along with her, thinking of this man who I just knew I was meant to be with. "Thank God you blew it. I think God I dodged a bullet, I'm so over you so baby good lookin' out. I wanted you bad, I'm so through with that cuz honestly you turned out to be the BEST THING I NEVER HAD...And I'm gon' always be the best thing you never had."
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