Nightmare

Nightmare.

Bad night last night. Pack of men outside got into a fight downstairs. Yelling and screaming and my mom swears that they beat one of the men. But I didn’t get up to see for fear of being shot or something. Didn’t set a good tone for the rest of my night. I had a pretty vivid nightmare last night. But instead of the usual recounting, I woke up and wrote it in short story version. The times my muse chooses to visit, I swear.

It was happening right upstairs from her – and right under her nose. This time she was sure of it – not just because of the confirmation from the chicks roomates about her preparing herself but not going anywhere and insisting that they all go out without her. And even the rhythmic dragging of the bed frame acoss the roof above her wasn’t why she knew. This time she knew it in her heart. For those hours, she felt the other woman become everything to him – lover, confidant, keeper of secrets, comforter. Everything she’d worked hard to be for him for years and more but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough anymore. There wasn’t anything she would have been able to do to stop him. She had already tried everything from being “lady in the street- freak in the bed” perfect little wife who would do anything he asked – to the insatiable, inconsolable bitch that he could never get anything right for. All in the attempt to strike the chord – that harmony that made him fall in love with her once upon a time. But he wasn’t that man anymore. So the disonnance rang loud – through every senseless argument that had no real basis in anything. Through the hours and days even of the silent treatment where they’d pass each other in the halls of their own house and not speak. They were strangers now, stuck in this discomfort.

When she closed her eyes she could imagine his silhouette, arms strong and braced, that admired curve in the nape of his back arched to perfection, his head bowed and focused – drilling. Pounding away at the other woman’s frame beneath him, her legs loosely wrapped around his waist as she attempted to hold on to his assault – wailing and calling. Not even so much as a grunt from him. She figured some things never change. Weak and thin tenement walls added so much life to this scene playing out above her. She finally heard the familiar quickening of his pace in preparation for his climax and one last scream from his evening’s focus and his drawn out “OHHHH” as he released into her and caught his breath. She heard the other woman giggle through her panting. And then silence.

She knew this was their first time together. The early flight back made it possible for her to intervene – but what good would that have done at this point? None. This woman was only in town for a short while but the electricty that shot from her husband when they spoke on the elevator or when he held the door open for her was undeniable. She was getting back on a plane to LA tomorrow. It made sense that they should share a farewell.

And why should they both be miserable anyways? Maybe she could find someone to satisfy her one day, too. It’s too bad she was convinced for so long that she had already found him.

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Hope today’s a better day.

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Invisible Girl

Invisible Girl

My appearance circa 2003 early 2004 was pretty simple: hair pulled back, baggy tee shirt, baggy jeans, sneakers. Every. Single. Day.

It was more related to my stress at work and my displeasure in my physique than anything else. It wasn’t my personal style. It was just low maintenance and I didn’t have to worry about coordinating or trying to match anything… all jeans and all teeshirts go with most sneakers.

But then I found myself one day wondering why my esteem was so low. Why guys wouldn’t look at me in the street. Why I couldn’t seem to get any reaction from my man. And I took a good hard look at myself. And one day, caught a glimpse of this girl:

And it dawned on me that she made me in her exact likeness (with a few additions from the sperm donor). But she in all her youth was FLY. How dare I disrespect that image by taking what she gave me and hiding it under big bagginess. She didn’t. She was in some miniskirts with her hair always done – my father always had a camera snapping pictures of her. Even he appreciated (which he doesn’t know how to do for anything, really) how beautiful she was and the effort she went through to keep herself (and others) impressed.

I changed my tune. I started to wear prettier clothes, prettier shoes… made sure my hair was washed and straight and presentable. I invested in a dollop or two of makeup and skin care products. And I started to care more about what I thought of me than what others did. It was really a transformation. Some of my co-workers attribute it to me getting engaged. But doesn’t that seem like the reverse of what usually happens. Pretty girl gets asked by pretty boy to get married – pretty girl stops trying so hard cause boy is in the bag. I’ve been doing the reverse. i always want his interest – so I always make sure that I can capture it. Or try to. Not that it works – but at least I think I look pretty in the mirror before I leave the house.

For the first time in my life someone told me that I was “head to toe fine”. Shocked me to hear it because even in my smallest (body size) days, no one ever really commented on me. I heard “pretty” a lot or “beautiful” on special occasions. Never “cute” – I think I’m too tall to be cute to anyone. Never “fine” – (don’t know why on that one – maybe it comes with some kind of attitude that I’ve only had as of recent). Felt REALLY good to hear. And I accept that. Because I feel that I am these days. I’m taking good care of my body (FINALLY). I’m wearing clothes that flatter – not fatten. I’m doing all the right things. I think…

But I’m still pretty invisible to certain people. And I guess that will be the way it has to be. I won’t vy for that attention anymore. I’ll just make sure that I please and honor me. No one else has to notice.

*

Mexico and stuff.

Mexico and stuff…

So I’m back from my trip to Playa del Carmen and it was beautiful. It was like an extended walk for me – just a chance to not be myself for a little while. I needed that. It wasn’t terribly eventful. Just a lot of walking around and wading in water and sunning. Nothing supernatural to report. Just the earth and the sea and the sun and the moon. And they’re always spectacular.

I guess I was trying to be cute on the way back from Mexico in my little tank top and flip flops – and I fucked myself up. I have the worst cold. I stayed out from work today … and slept till 4:30 PM. I’ve NEVER slept that long in my life before. Ever. I’m up now and feel slightly better… but DAMN. Hopefully I’ll be back on track soon. I need all my faculties for the weeks to come.

Re-arriving to the conclusion that I’ll never know it all. There are things in this world I’ll have to be okay with not COMPLETELY being in the know about. I’ll never really ever know who broke in to our apt. when my dad left for Haiti when I was 10. I’ll never know what happened to the little notepad they gave to me in the 6th grade when I was FINALLY elected as president of the class – of course… no other president had ever lost the booklet *sigh*. I’ll never know if it was really Suzanne that called and threatened me on the phone about Roberto in High School because she seemed pretty clueless when I rolled up with the entire football team ready to kick her ass. I’ll never know what would have happened that pivotal night that started 7 years of Shawn and I if J.A. had came back from uptown as we planned.

But more importantly the things that I’ll have to trust without ever knowing – the same way that I trust that it’s air that I’m breathing and blood pumping through my veins. That Earl loves me. That we’ll be together as long as we both work to make our life click together. That I can take him at his word. That our life will be happy. I won’t know till it happens… and until then.. I have to trust.

I’m on the horizon of something though. I think I’m a little scared of it actually. I’m embarking upon some period of my life… feels dark though. It’s a period of change and I have to be okay with that because change is good. But no one said I can’t be a little scared of it at first. I’m sure I’ll come out unscathed… but the unknown is always daunting. Pray for me.

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Away

Away

I’m unusually relaxed for 1) Me; 2) Me getting on a plane ; 3) Me getting on a plane for a 4 day trip; 4) Me getting on a plane for a 4 day trip to another country. I’m used to more jitters and worries and “did I pack this?” and “what if I see a bug?”. But I’m totally calm and calculated. I won’t be late for my plane. It doesn’t matter what bugs I’ll see. I’m sure the weather will be perfect. I will enjoy myself thoroughly.

Because I need to. I have been yearning for this trip for a long time. I need to get away from myself, for longer than my lunch hour walks allow. Hopefully, this will let me.

Happy Cinco de Mayo…Hasta Luego!!

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Caring Less

Caring Less

I’ve convinced myself that this is an art. And perhaps I need to become a student of it. Caring generally less about stupid shit than I do normally. I often find myself in a position of giving a damb (lol@Frizz) more than the average joe. And although it’s been cited as one of my more endearing qualities, that shit is giving me an ulcer. It’s really freeing to care less sometimes. So I have to start. And stop giving things and people an importance that they don’t deserve / haven’t earned. I’m losing focus again, and I can’t afford to wait 6 months to get it back this time. Maybe my new endearing quality will be that I stay sane.

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