A Letter To Love: The Bougie Brujas Diary 💌📝📖

Written: 1/11/24 @ 12:34 am Dear Diary,  Christmas and New Years has come and gone away. Now it’s almost Valentine’s Day. I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions about love, life, and soulmates as of late. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve definitely loved before, but now I’m asking myself have I ever been IN love. Has anyone ever been in love with me? How do you know when you’re no longer in love? How do you know when you are in love? But most importantly, what is love? WHO is love? I’ve asked the universe this question and I’ve stumbled across a few answers. My first answer was in an Amazing World of Gumball episode titled “The Love.” They gave 10 definitions of love, but the one that stuck out most said: “Love is inexplainable.” And when they showed an example, they said… nothing. They struggled to find the words, so after much thought, Nicole and Richard Waterson decided showing is the best way to express your love and they gave each other a hug. This was very fitting for me and my Pisces Venus considering my love language is physical touch/action. If you ask Rick from Rick and Morty, he would say “love is just a chemical reaction” in the brain. And of course we all know, whether we’re religious or not, that the Bible says “Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is slow to anger.” Then the dictionary says love is ”an intense feeling of deep affection.” But what IS love? What’s MY definition of love? Well— I believe love is spiritual, of course. But it was my last answer from the universe that inspired me most to write this entry. You see, lately I’ve been doing more things that I loved to do when I was a little kid, like coloring and dancing, just to find the answer to these questions. Today, I decided to read poetry (and write some too). I was called to pick up the book Black Girl Call Home by Jasmine Mans. I read through the book, and the first quote that really called to me was from a poem titled Dear Ex Lover. It said “…apologies are like oxygen mask on a hijacker’s planes.” I thought of the concept of love in itself. I thought about how it steals your breath away, and how when you’re on cloud 9, you don’t consider the possibility of crashing and burning. It’s because you’re hypnotized by its beauty. It’s funny how with the phrase “fall in love,” we never consider the former. We never consider the falling part, and the possibility of nobody catching.  Why do we call it “fall in love” anyway? Why can’t we say fly? Why don’t we “fly in love”? Doesn’t love make us feel like we’re soaring? Isn’t that why we call people love birds? Because when you love, you see life from a different perspective. A Birds Eye View if you will. Anyway, I never liked flying until the day I realized it’s the closest thing we have to understanding birds. To seeing what they see, which is hope. Possibility. A bigger picture that most people miss because they never see what’s right in front of them until the opportunity passes by. Until it’s too late. As I was reading today, I realized people are a lot like books. Everyone is constantly writing their own stories. But the irony is… most people don’t like to read. But isn’t that what love is? Being able to read in between the lines of your person? Being able to quote what they’d say without even having to read what comes next because you know their character so well? Jasmine says “you must forgive yourself before you forgive the person next to you.” I also think you have to come to terms with the fact that some people aren’t even sorry, and some people don’t want to be saved. Not by you, and not from themselves. So stop having that S on your chest (and in my case… on my mind). And speaking of safety and protection, there’s a poem in here about a single mother and her 3 babies. It’s about a mother who’s doing the best she can with what she has, and it may not be much, but she makes it work. I think this is a metaphor for my mama and me, and our relationship. Jasmine said the word “bitch” should never slip through the daughters lips. Not even on accident. Never put nothing on your momma, not even a word as simple as that.  Because even on her worst days when she has nothing else to give, the mother still gives us her all, even when all she has are poetic prayers and a pot of chili on the stove. She will pour from a cup half full just to give you a good meal, and she’ll use the last of her energy to pray that God gives you strength. This is the true first love. The love of the mother. The love of the person you will be part of for the longest before you become whole.  And in evaluating my own mother/daughter dynamic, I understand some people better. I think of my friends who have started families. They’re parents with priories. The child comes first now, not the parties. Not other people. I mean, I get it. My parents put me first. And if they’re anything like my mom and dad, they’re willing to do anything for them at any time.  I also think of my first love, and the first time he ever held my hand as I cried on my very first flight. My tears matched the rain hitting my window pane. My foot tapped rhythmically in anxiety, in fear of a possible fall. He gave my hand a squeeze and said “Relax, Jay. Not all planes go down. Some get lost.” He laughed at his little joke, and I gave it a chuckle