Truth is I’m broken. Not because a woman broke me. But because I’ve been fixing. I’ve been fixing what your exes have done. Your one night stand that you planned to be a forever man decided to excuse you from his life’s plan. His plan was 30 minutes long and my effort of fixing lasted 30 months long, until I’m exhausted and rusted.
Your heart didn’t bleed normally. The valves were busted and I was the plumber. I’m trained to become the man that renews your strength, but you don’t show me that you’re healed until two relationships down the line. You’re healed now and you gave credit to the new guy instead of the journey and efforts I put in two relationships ago. When you met him, all your trash was disposed of and you are “New.”
I was broken to allow my cracks to be filled in with your scattered parts. It allowed me to part from my “break” from what’s at stake but I’m no longer giving. I’m trained to fix!
Although I am not the cause of your pain, I took responsibility for your recovery.
I wasn’t able to separate and make what you need from me my legitimacy. I should have walked away before you stepped in, but the hidden talents waited and hidden faults debated when to reveal how broke I am from fixing. Until I decided to no longer fix anything outside of me. When I decided that, the relationship was defined and we no longer connected. I wasn’t your heart’s maintenance man. I wasn’t your light at the end of the tunnel. I wasn’t your “at the end of the day.”
I was what I needed to be for me. I became a self surgeon. I started to disconnect the life lines connected to others and self-plugged. I filled in the cracks with my own restoration.
I’m fixing my broke.
This originally appeared on Bashea’s blog, Bashea Williams.