love.

a restful musing

Photo by Wyron A on Unsplash

I am sitting in my hotel room

overwhelmed

faces flash through my mind

in such a dizzying manner

that I wonder

if there is something wrong with my brain

is this what falling in love is like?

I hesitated with this post. “Robert how many times are you going to write on this?!” As I ended last year, I wrote many ideas of topics that I wanted to cover in 2025. I considered flexing my scholarly muscle. (For the many racists who have sent me DM’s telling me that I’m an idiot. I’m a whole PhD student with excellent grades and accolades. Hmph!) I considered really flexing my poetry muscle. Desiring to prove that I am worthy of poetry honors. I have note after note of ideas filling my phone. And, as I sat in my hotel room, love floated through my mind. I began weeping at the ways that I’ve been loved. The friends and the family who have loved a broken boy who turned into a man. The temptation to write on something cooler than love seduces me because I want to be known for other things. I want to be a cool fiction writer like

NJ

I want to write like

Jor-El Caraballo

I want to do cultural commentary like

Alex Lewis

I want to do anything that

Sharifa

or

Rose J. Percy

does. What if I could write moving work like

Noha Beshir

or

Marc Typo

? Maybe I could do illustrations like my boy

Jamal Robinson

. The truth is I can’t. I can admire all of these beautiful creatives, but I have to find my own way. Tenderly. Shakily. Love is on my mind again. And I confess I’m a crying mess. again.

I am loved

when I die,

the last thing that I will have written

will probably be a love poem

I have always been a softy. (I introduce myself as a soft Black man now.) Even while I was afraid to admit it as a young person growing up Black and afraid to show it. Manhood and love don’t seem to go together in a loveless culture. I learned early on how to harness anger and sarcasm to form as a weapon against anyone who would test my patience. The saunter of a man who doesn’t know how to love is an empty one. A lonely one. And no matter how much bravado this man displays…he is lost indeed.

“To return to love, to get the love we always wanted but never had, to have the love we want but are not prepared to give, we seek romantic relationships. We believe these relationships, more than any other, will rescue and redeem us. True love does have the power to redeem but only if we are ready for redemption. Love saves us only if we want to be saved.”

― bell hooks

I’m returning to love at the beginning of a year. I have goals just like anyone else as the calendar year renews itself. and. a childlike, naive seed begs for attention. I want to love myself well. I want to love myself whole. I want to love the people I love this year in such a way that they are transformed. I will mess up. I will get lost. And I hope, that those I love will help me find my way home. Love to you all.

There are people who come alive when you enter a room.

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