Beginning of a New Year, End of an Era

We jumped up and down on my mattress, like two toddlers. Beyonce’s “Drunk In Love” blasted as I tried to soak up every bit of what I knew would be our last moments together. That was one thing that I always loved about her, her youthfulness. Plastic 2014 sunglasses adorned our faces. The glasses were as cheap as I knew our night would be, once we fucked. It was the beginning of the year, but definitely the ending of an era.

It was only a few hours earlier that I had damn near begged her to come to Brooklyn to bring in the New Year with me. She didn’t feel like making the trip from Queens, but somehow I convinced her that I was worth it. We were worth it. We were worth spending the last hour or so of 2013 together over a hot meal and frozen drinks. I figured it was the least she owed me after a year and a half of uncertainty. According to her, her heart was in a “bind.”

During what was left of the night/early morning, we did what was inevitable. We fucked, which felt more like an obligation out of pity than something natural between two people who were highly attracted to each other. We both knew that was it and it was also the reason why she didn’t want to come over in the first place. 

I woke up at the crack of dawn and prepared a lunch for her to take to a training that she had that morning. She slid through my cracked apartment door with her lunch in tow and that was the last that I saw of her physically. I was left to make sense of it all and to make peace with the fact that we had just ended something, that had no business beginning.


The Elongated and Awkward ‘Hey’

“When “hey” s are no longer warm and sweet, but yet elongated and awkward, it’s time to let that shit go.”- Me

Urged by my homie to put feelings aside and ask for a much needed favor, I decided to give her a call. After six rings, the conversation went like this.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” (insert awkward pause)

Being the straight to the point person that I am, I wasted no time “getting right to it” as one of my favorite writing professors used  as a fiction writing mantra.

“I need a huge favor. I’m about to apply for what would be my “dream” job. Can you hook up my resume?”

“Yea, sure.”

After a conversation about how she’s not in my field, but she’ll do it, we swiftly got off of the phone. The conversation was strictly business because she stuck to the script and made sure to not leave any room to discuss emotions. Afterward, I laid in bed continuing to watch one of our favorite movies, reminiscing about the inside jokes we had using quotes from the main characters. I thought about how much I hate having to explain my movie quote outbursts in related conversations because that’s something that we shared. Only we could make each other mad and then tease each other quoting, Larenz Tate, Janet Jackson, Tupac Shakur and Nia Long. Moments later, we’d burst into laughter and smile, thinking about how silly it was to remain angry.

And here I am thinking about how silly I am to even think that one day we’d connect again.