I Have No Idea What Happened After That

It's Friday. I'm sitting in my parked car under the veil of night's darkness watching the raindrops join the river water. Thoughts overwhelm me as I try to distract myself by singing but the song's lyrics only trigger a descend into deeper thought. People come and go all around me (mostly cars packed with young girls parking while they go off with their boyfriends to do who knows what) but after a while, all I hear is the mid tempo taps of the rain off the car's windshield. I don't think I'm even singing anymore. I'm absent and lost in thought...until my phone rings.

I don't really feel like speaking but I manage to say, Hello?

...No response. I listen a little while longer then repeat, Mm. Hello?

It's him. What up?

I grimaced. I hate when you say that.

What's wrong? Why do you sound so down? I smiled on the inside but it didn't translate to my face.

Nothing. I lied. I just didn't want to share. I planned to avoid acknowledgment as long as I could. I was mad at him but I couldn't bare telling him because it seemed so silly.

You don't have any reason to be sad. Where are you? He was always so sincere. (That's why I loved him.)

At the park. I still didn't feel much like talking but for him, I'd try.

At the park?! He repeated as if I hadn't spoken the King's English. What are you doing at the park?

Nothing. I paused. Thinking.

Thinking about what? I knew he would say that so, I fixed my mouth to lie again.

Nothing. (This response was rapidly growing old and I could hear the aggravation in his voice.)

He started to pose another question but instead said, I'll be there in a minute.

I couldn't help myself. The tears rolled down my face just as soon as I hung up the phone. I didn't want him to see me crying so I tried to wipe them away but for every one I swiped, two more fell in its place. Just as the well ran dry, I looked over my shoulder and he stood there in the rain. I unlocked the door and he got in. Neither of us spoke. I rose from my slumped position, met his embrace, and I have no idea what happened after that.

Brother.

Your president is a man. Your president is a Black man. It is time we come out of the mentality that oppressors encourage. You can. Yes, we can. There is no measure of blackness. You do not have to be the image seen on the screen. Choose your words carefully and act responsibly. Pull up your pants and stand. It is time out for disgrace. We need our men in this place. Do not be afraid to be different. Believe in achievement. No one said it would be easy but difficulty does not spell impossibility.

Sister, take your man and be the solid rock upon which he can stand. We can not expect a man to be a man if we are not willing to let him be. Understand the importance of support. The balance of power and respect between a man and woman is a precious, fragile thing. Handle with care.

Him Crazy...And I Like It

"What do I have to do to make you happy?" he said looking intently into my eyes while waiting for an answer.

I didn't have one but that was the perfect question. He listens attentively and studies my rhythm. He's quietly sexy, perfectly thoughtful, and never raises his voice. He's a bit sarcastic but because of my backwards sense of humor, I think it's funny. He initially avoids the question but later circles back. He's very conscious and I can appreciate that.

He is a man of few words choosing them every so carefully. We stand together in the silence of night staring into the sky until he says, "I adore you." He never looked away from the stars but he smiles and a dimple graces his face.