Things Fall Apart: My Version

When I was in high school, I read Chinua Achebe's masterful book, "Things Fall Apart" about the fragmentation and disintegration of Nigeria in the 1970s. It remains one of the best written books I have ever read because Achebe is one author who speaks the absolute truth. He didn't gloss over anything and he didn't hide his feelings...from the most bizarre to the most pitiful.

So this blog is my own version of "Things Fall Apart" although I am certainly not the master that Achebe is. But sometimes you just need to speak the truth, as bitter and crushing as it can be.

My friend from Philly and former colleague, Kay, called me tonight to ask what was going on with me. She said, "I am getting bad vibes from you and I almost never get those feelings when I think of you so let's have it out...what is going on there?"

I initially said what I always say, "Everything is FINE!!!" but Kay is not susceptible to my bullshit. She is a big, beautiful, black former Army policewoman and she knows me inside and out. She is one of those people that I can't lie to and can't bullshit, no matter what. So I decided to have it out with her.

"I am not sure where I should begin..." I said.

"At the beginning, fool. Or at least tell me about the past two weeks...just start somewhere," she said.

So I took a deep breath and started. Here is how it went:

"Well, in the past two weeks I have been to Florida, Oklahoma, Texas, DC, New York, Dubai, Doha and Ethiopia. I spent most of my time in Florida trying to figure out how to forgive my boyfriend who admitted to infidelity the day before I left. I went to Oklahoma to see him and try to work things out but his mother is dying and that kind of put a damper on things. I met his father, whom I adored, but I had to pretend the whole time that my insides were not in shreds and that my heart was not racing because I was so upset. So we decided to go to Texas because I had never been there and I wanted to see if we could work things out even though I knew I would never get over the betrayal and he knew he would do it again because our relationship, from the start, has been broken. So we drove to Texas with two dozen 'apology' flowers in the back seat of our rented Nissan and put ourselves up in Dallas/Ft. Worth after visiting Oral Robert's University in Oklahoma. We spent the next two days in Texas having some of the best times and worst times of our entire relationship. We danced, laughed, fought, and embarrassed each other in public. After that, I went to New York City with my brother and spent a thousand dollars trying to forget what had happened in Oklahoma and Texas. I ate oysters, spent nights out at the bar getting completely hammered, and walking miles of city blocks to just keep reminding myself that I was alive and at least I could do this---walk---even if I was failing in so many other places."

Kay took a deep breath on the other end of the phone and said, "OK, go on."

"Then I flew to Dubai, spent a night in an expensive hotel room, ate half a pizza and drank a half bottle of red wine and passed out. The next morning I was in Doha at a conference and my heart was racing again and my hands were shaking and I had to remember not to touch anyone male or shake their hands because I am an 'infidel' and unclean. After that, I got on a plane to Ethiopia and had to spend two hours on the ground in the plane dying of thirst because the combination of the hangover from Dubai, the nervousness at at the conference, and my own racing heart. Finally, I got to Kampala and got an email from my boyfriend indicating that, despite our best efforts, he was just not willing to continue trying. Then I got up the next day at 8AM with awful jet-lag, pulled myself through a bunch of meetings, and then went out with my colleagues and drank two glasses of wine and a Guinness on an empty stomach. I couldn't talk about what I was feeling so I just tried to drink it away. Then I got on the back of a motorcycle at 11PM and was sideswiped by a truck carrying timber and ended up in a ditch on the side of the road. I was bleeding profusely from my face and my leg was killing me but I managed to get up and out from underneath the motorcycle."

Another sharp breath from Kay and then, "OK, please go on."

"So then I ended up at the hospital and they told me my leg was broken although I was pretty sure it wasn't. Then they told me I had to be evacuated to South Africa or Kenya within 24 hours or septic shock would set in and I would die. But I just didn't believe them so I managed to get home, look in the mirror and realize I had split my lip completely open and had bitten through my tongue. I had a helmet on but I had road burn all over my face and my leg was throbbing. My knee wasn't where it should have been but I was scared and just wanted to get out of there. So I called my boyfriend to tell him what happened and, at the end of the conversation, he dumped me...formally. I think that hurt worse than my face or my leg although I knew it was coming...and it is sort of a relief that it did. As I have said, we have been broken from the beginning and the past two weeks have been pure torture. Then I called my mother and sobbed on the phone for an hour scaring her and scaring me. So I spent today at the doctor's and nothing I have is too serious and it can all be fixed. I have two dozen flowers in my apartment from the President of Uganda and a note begging me not to leave and, if I do, to take his private airplane to the hospital in Kenya. I am not going to die although I feel like crap. So...well, that's it. That is what happened."

Oddly, Kay started laughing.

At first I was shocked and angry but then I couldn't help but join in. It DID seem completely ridiculous.

"Girl, if it were anyone but you I wouldn't believe it but it is you and I completely believe it. But, JESUS...you packed a lot into two weeks!!" she said between giggles.

"Kay, I can't tell anymore which hurts worst...my leg, my head, or my heart," I said.

"I told your stupid white ass that this was going to happen although I couldn't even have imagined that you would do all of this to get the point across to yourself," she mused.

OK, fine. But where do I go from here?

"Girl, you will be fine. You are one of those people that God seems to love a lot so even when you are a complete mess, you are always fine. You know that, right?" she said.

I started to cry.

"Stop that nonsense," Kay snapped. "No crying. Forget about the man, get your damn leg fixed, walk around with your messed up face for a few days, and then get back on the horse and carry on. You don't have a choice. If God wanted you dead, he would have done it by now. So you don't have a choice. Just please, PLEASE, learn the lesson this time, OK?"

I smiled, despite my lip, because what she was saying seemed to make sense in some odd way.

"OK," I agreed, "I won't give up."

"Miss Patti, things fall apart. That's a lesson in life. For you, they seem to fall apart all at the same time so I think you are actually lucky. For most of us, things fall apart in pieces, bit-by-bit. But this time is over now, do you hear me? It is over."

Yes, OK, I agree.

"Good, I am glad I called you. You should, by the way, write this down somewhere. It will remind you the next time not to let it get this far where you have to get in a motorcycle accident to realize that you should change courses a lot earlier on. You listening to me or did you fuck up your ears too?" she barked.

"Yes, I am listening" I said.

"I love you, white girl. There is only one you...just remember that from now on. Good-bye," Kay said as she hung up.

So things do fall apart. They have fallen apart for me these past few weeks. But nothing is completely broken that can't be fixed. And, like Kay says, what is my option?

Besides, I am 34 years old and single again with a broken leg, road burn all over half of my face, and a set of swollen lips that most women in Hollywood could only dream about with Botox injections. AND the President of Uganda sends me flowers...

Who wouldn't want me?

Things fall apart. But most things can be fixed.