half-loves, whole hearts, and home.

I was going through the absolute foolishness that is my twitter favorites, and found the tweet that changed my love live. Dream Hampton tweeted a Rumi quote that literally changed my love life on Valentine's Day 2012. It was simply, “A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home.” Rumi said we had to let go of the love we accepted to ever find the love we deserve. I made no major changes the day I read that, but my Lord, it stuck with me.

A few days before, I'd cussed a boy I once loved for treating me like something he could pick up and put down when he pleased. Maybe then, the change this quote would catalyze had already begun. That boy told me I was wrong to always be a victim. He told me that I was just as responsible for our predicament as he was. I was drunk, and I believe I told him I hoped his son would be a better man than him. I didn't speak to him again for over a year.

A month after reading that quote, on a big Thirsty Thursday, I listened to Adele and sent a text to a different boy I once loved. I absolutely could not understand how we had grown apart after being so close for so many years. We talked about everything, all the time, regardless of what relationships we were or were not in at the time. We'd decided our friendship was real, and that we were truly those once-in-a-lifetime friends who would remain close forever. He promised me that we would, but we did not.

I met these boys at fourteen, welcoming their bright eyes and infectious smiles eagerly. They gave me rides home from school. They spent time with me. We grew up and stayed in contact. They helped me maneuver sticky situations through college. We saw each other whenever our schedules permitted. I've written before, though, that these boys kissed me in my driveway, but never took me on dates. They indeed were my first lesson in small, petulant love that does nothing more than drain you of your divine energy that it never deserved. I believe that although these boys meant me no harm, they had no intention of fostering relationships that respected me as a woman with feelings.

The three beautiful brown boys I have loved all asked if I would marry them in the same week. None of these proposals were formal, but I believed they were all sincere. The first said that he imagined us settling down in four or five years, and that he couldn't see any other person as his wife or the mother of his children. The second suggested I finish college where he was stationed, and that we could travel the world together. The third said that if we were both single in two years, he'd do everything he could to make sure we were together. I asked him if I could have any china pattern I wanted, and agreed to his proposition when he said yes.

But fourteen months after those conversations, I read this quote and it changed my love life. By the middle of March, the only man I spent a great deal with or gave any of my time was a brown boy I called my brother. He invited me to his home to cook when I couldn't afford to eat outside of cafeteria hours. We shared secrets with each other. We were honest with each other. We built the most intimate space I've ever inhabited, and to this day, I'm lucky to visit that place regularly.

One day much later, I found myself, by myself, walking through the shadow of death, and I spoke with one of the brown boys I'd met in high school. I realized that he and I were still the exact same people we were when we made plans and promises we would not live to keep. I understood that the anger I had toward him for lying to me, could quite honestly be turned to myself for believing in him more than I believed in me. We took the time to unpack eight years of emotional baggage. I left that conversation feeling new and light and free.

I acknowledged so many things in the nights I spent in that dark valley by myself. I faced legions of my fears during the day. It took more time than I will admit to forsake my half-loves. Even after I'd stopped actively loving them, I held onto the hurt I'd experienced at their hands. That grudge defined every positive moment we'd shared, allowing me only to learn lessons of the broken.

Right now, I am loved deeply by an enchanted boy that taught me a two-part lesson on how to be alone. By fostering a romantic relationship built on a foundation of transparency, he has offered me growth in places I hadn't found in myself. He took me on a journey to find my whole heart. Each time I see him, he welcomes me home. And I'm still going to get whatever china pattern I want.