I have a story about meeting a man. This is not an easy story. It’s a story I have kept to myself. A story I have never been capable to tell.
So today I will write about.
The man I will meet one day…
I know him and he knows me. But we never met.
One day we had a chance but I was too scared to let myself.
I knew he was going somewhere better than me.
We had a white noise between us and I remember his cry.
That was all knew about the man I will meet one day.
How do I know you’re a man? A lady from New Orleans told me a story in the sun about a boy. A boy so beautiful he would take your breath away.
That’s when I knew I would meet a man one day.
I think to myself is the white noise still there? Will I see what I never knew? Will I be filled again with what the white noise took away? The white noise made love…hard. So hard it crushed my soul. It crushed my being. It crushed my dreams and goals.
So I went away into the dark. I couldn’t hear or see. I couldn’t feel or need. I was broken in the dark. I killed just to remind myself I was alive.
My thoughts changed of what I knew of the world. It was a hard place. A desolate place. And when I was ready to go and leave it all behind…
A thought of some people came to mind. My mother, my brother, my sister the family.
That thought brought me the light. I could hear their love like a song. Could I hear their love for me? Were they proud of me? They were so happy for me?
And the noise, the white noise could not hold me.
Then one day I heard the best noise. It wasn’t a noise at all. It was peace and quiet.
It was the still small voice that said, “I’m with you and I love you”. And from that day, my life changed the first time, for the man I’ll meet one day.
Then came a little girl that was as pretty as a rose. She drastically changed my heart. I heard her cry as I heard that cry before. I soothed her with a gift that I never knew I had. She trusted me and loved me unconditionally. Then she gave me the strength, to be the one I need to be, for the man I will meet one day.
Then a hero I never knew. He flew through the sky and rescued me from insecurities. He stayed with me and loved me and made me secure, for the man I will meet one day.
So now I sit and think about how scared I was, so ashamed and not knowing how to explain.
But I don’t care now. I don’t care I’m not ready. I don’t feel guilty for the people that are here today. I am ready for the man I will meet one day.
I’m ready to love you and tell you I’m sorry. I’m ready to hug you. I’m ready to see your face.
Because My Son I’m ready to meet you… When you are ready to meet me… one day
I wrote this from a place I never knew I could get to or make sense of to get out. A place inside me that is so honest that for 19 years hid like a small child afraid of their abusive father. A place now that makes me raw and vulnerable. Exposed. Yet, Strong! Secure! Humble, Happy. My story is about when I was young, very young I got pregnant. The summer before my senior year in high school. I made a decision one day, one time with one boy. And lived many years hiding from the consequences of that day. I was scared and ashamed. I didn’t want to make another mistake and I needed to do the right thing. For me and for the one now becoming a being inside me. So I made the decision to give the baby up for adoption to a loving family that I was able to meet and knew they would cherish having a child. And give him the life he deserved. I couldn’t ruin his life nor terminate it. Not like I didn’t think about it. However, I knew myself enough at the time not to. I would be dead right now if I did. Maybe not physically but all that matters to live as a human being. Today, I believe I made the right decision and I am grateful for my life and his.The haunting white noise was the white sheet they draped from the ceiling to floor to go between us so I wouldn’t have to live with the feeling of giving him away knowing his face. His cry and that sheet are our time spent together. It used to haunt me everyday and I would try to escape it, but I couldn’t and never could.