To All the Boys I've Loved Before & Still Kinda Love

A few weeks ago, I hosted a group of songwriting strangers for an in person songshare as part of the songwriting I took led by the phenomenal Big Thief lead singer and indie-folk savant herself Adrienne Lenker. One of the songwriters in the group wrote this song "A Small Patch of Earth For Us" memorializing his love for a former partner who he'd reconnected with at a funeral a few years earlier. When he recounted the story of seeing her, I was taken aback at how casually he was saying "I still love her". He told us that at the funeral that she'd told him that when she has dreams and "There's a guy, it's always you". Since they hadn't seen each other in years, were both happily married to other people, I thought this might be another introduction to yet another white polyamorous Brooklyn love story. But, he clarified that he's not pining after or in love with her anymore. But that a part of him will simply always care for and love her. And if that love can still live on a different form, then the relationship would never really be a failure to him.

For a long time, even now I think that still resonates with me. I don't view past relationships or loves I couldn't carry into the future as failures. When past relationships ended, whatever love or affection had lived within me as some deep burning flame never fully disappeared. It simply settled itself some place different, now living within me as a warm kindling. Because of the way I practice love, in a bell hooks/Christian humanist love ethic way, I've loved every person I've ever been with, even the ones I wasn't quite in love with. For me, it's as if loving another human being, tending to their needs, seeing their humanity as equal to mine, was my responsibility, the duty I had in engaging with another human being. And in the practice of that kind of love , I always found myself with little regret about how I'd given myself in relationships. Most times, except one, the care and consideration had come back to me. And so when those relationships ended, it seemed more natural to allow a different love to settle in than to toss away loving feelings altogether. Watching those deep romantic feelings transform themselves into something platonic felt a more gentle way to depart from love. And so for most of the people I loved, I still have a profound gratitude for the kindness and care they'd shown me. They had their own unique faults, dysfunctions, imperfections, none-abusive or like evil, so I can't help but think of them fondly.

Danny was a friend for a while and then he was the boy that meant more to me than anyone ever had before. He married a girl that was in my high school choir and is gonna be a dad in a few months. And I know he'll be good at it. He was always reliable and gentle. I think of Tom when I rewatch my Season 1 and 2 boxset of Avatar the Last Airbender, our favorite show. A few years ago, for the plot, I sat across from him on a Metro-North train ride home. From the corner of my eye, I could see his face turn bright red as the realization that I was across from him lit up his skin. There's mixed feelings there. I think seeing me makes him feels shame for who he was back then. But I have a feeling or a hope that he's not who he was at 17. When we broke up, he thanked me and told me I was an angel. So I can never bring myself to fully despise him nor can I help the tiny smile that sneaks in when I hear the song On Melancholy Hill by the Gorillaz, his favorite band. Cory is a very good man, no notes, the embodiment of integrity and kindness. He could've been the shitty older guy that takes advantage, but Cory wasn't the type. He always took care. He'd call me up asking if I wanted to cook meals with him to distribute to the homeless. He'd offer to help my mom move into the house I bought when we weren't even dating. And when I saw Cory and his wife Jamie take their first dance at their wedding, I sat thinking, I'm really happy for him. I'm glad he found her. While attending Cory's wedding seemed to others controversial, for me it was just a sign of endurance of the platonically loving bond built between us. When we broke up, he also thanked me. But in time, I've become more grateful for him and the care he showed me both as a partner and as a friend.

I think the love I still have for all of them is perhaps a function of gratitude. They were all so kind to me (Yes I know the bar is in hell, but I was fat dark-skinned and bullied as a kid, and by one person in adulthood so kindness always sticks out a bit different to me ). They didn't take advantage of me selfishly, drown me in their toxicity, or cause profound harm. They'd made me feel seen in a way that I often yearned for navigating life as a black woman. And even if they ended up ultimately passing through, for the time that they were here, I cherished them and what they brought to my life. Whether it was escaping my mom's house, or giving me an opportunity to make a great playlist, or just the affirmation of simply being cared for, I appreciate what they gave to me then. Maybe, they'd even showed me what I'd need in the future - Danny's calmness and stability, Tom's love of music and movies, Cory's goodness which results in an almost absolute inability to hurt other people. And for those things, and more, I'll always have a love for them. It's one that is no longer full of desire but instead is deep in gratitude and respect.

bell hooks has a quote in All About Love where she says To be loving is to be open to grief, to be touched by sorrow, even if that sorrow is unending. She's right. We open ourselves up to much pain and sorrow to feel love . But I'd like to add that once we grapple with the grief, we can make a way for new love. And if you've seen the movie, To All the Boys I've Loved Before, that's kind of the message. Through grief, we can find love and in my case a different kind of love. So I'm grateful now for the way that grief has transformed all the boys I've loved before to men I'll always kindof love and will always root for.