The Women Hold Me Down, Man (Part 1)
The women hold me down, man.
The women hold me down in ways I sometimes just shake my head at. No title is necessary, no promises of a future required. The women, man, they hold me down, even when I don’t ask them to. Like the woman who after only two dates with me, came to my hospital bed four nights in a row, sneaking in food. Like my old female roommate, who, after I found out my uncle was killed, wrote me a beautiful card and left it on my dresser, only an hour after I received the news. Like the women who read this blog, comment, and email me.
The women hold me down, man.
Today, I’m thinking about all those women and the women in my life right now. Something, a good thing, is going on, but it is changing my life. One of those things that make me wish it wasn’t the women who held me down. One of those things that makes me wish it was a woman, just one, holding me down.
The morning my father died. I remember picking up the phone and when my brother told me the news, how alone I felt. My one bedroom apartment expanded to feel even more empty than it already was. And it was 6 in the morning, a time when if you’re going to call anyone, it better be for a good reason. Unless of course that anyone is your girl. Then you can call her just to tell her you’re thinking about her. But I didn’t have a girl. I had women. Women I knew would hold me down. So I called them, and they were kind, understanding, and thoughtful. But after those calls were made, I cried to myself because it hit me.
My father died alone, but only by his doing. I received the news alone, but only by my doing. If my father just would have loved one woman in his life like she loved him, he wouldn’t have died alone. If I would have loved one woman in my life the way they loved me, I wouldn’t have received the news alone.
The women in my father’s life held him down for years, man. The mothers of his sons, raised them and loved his boys in ways he never did, but those women loved their son’s father like he was always around. Other women loved him too, some he married, some he didn’t. Those women held him down, man. Until they couldn’t hold him down anymore. They were always going to love him, but from a safe distance, the exact same distance the women in my life put between them and me.
Now as my life changes again, albeit for a much better reason, it is clear to me I haven’t learned my lesson from last year because it’s still the women, not the woman, holding me down. This is not to say I don’t enjoy my single status. Dare I say, it’s more of a blessing than a curse. Something I embrace and yes, at times, celebrate. But when life changes before my very eyes, in ways I never imagined or saw coming, that’s when being single is hardest. I have my friends, they have my back, and of course, I have the women. Like I said, they have my back too, but sometimes, I just wish it was one woman who had to bear that responsibility.
I have a laundry list of women who have held me down, but it looks mighty similar to the list of women who I have let down, and very similar to the list of women I don’t talk to anymore. It’s as though, the other list I have, the list of women who I slept with and never talked to again, are better off because I don’t just get women to sleep with me. I get women to get into me. I get women to hold me down, man.
To be continued…