Short Reads

In Your Corner

It takes a strong person to handle someone like you. Someone who can lift tons. Who could bear the worst of the worst. Someone who has been torn down so many times but still was able to get up and dust off like nothing happened. You wouldn’t be able to drain this person physically or emotionally. You wouldn’t be able to discourage this person. You wouldn’t be able to make this person feel bad about themselves. You would do no harm to this person because this is the person that you need.. The person that you want. The person who you indeed know that you could not do without. This person holds you up when you can’t do that yourself. This person continuously pushes you forward whether you can be moved or not. This person brings out the utmost best in you, which in turn makes you strive to be the best for them. It’s never about them though. It’s about you. You are the only one that can build yourself up.. That can make you do what’s best for you. But sometimes, you need that person to help you through. You need that person in your corner. When the going gets tough.. When you feel rewarded.. When you just need that breath of fresh air.. You need them. This person loves and is in love with everything about you. Your flaws do nothing to them but make them want you to realize that you’re still the best in their eyes. This person complements you in more ways than just being that good looking person at your side. Your personalities mesh well.. You balance each other out. If there was such thing as perfect, you guys would be close to it. You need this person in your corner.

Howard

The theater was semi-crowded. Couples in every other row. A group of girls bumped past me to get to their seats. I scanned the dim-lit room for Shay. Spotted her honey blonde braids and red bandana a few steps away. She was fumbling with something in her purse, trying to find something, but looking up ever so often, looking for someone. Howard. “This is Justin’s cousin, Howard. He’s your date.” Almost immediately, I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. He kissed me back as though we were already together. I let him go as he led us to our seats. The room suddenly shifted into a brightly lit kitchen. White curtains swayed in the window. As I peered out, I saw a car pull up. Three big men in black suits exited the car and walked towards the kitchen. From the corner of my eye, I saw Shay and Howard start fumbling around, but I pretended not to see. When I finally decided to turn around, one of the big men was dragging Howard to the car by his left leg. “Drug dealer,” is what I heard among the group of people who were watching. I cursed Shay out so bad, ending with a “F*ck you”. I then appeared to be in my living room throwing all of what seemed to be her clothes on the ground near the door. She was storming up and down grabbing her stuff. Maybe we lived together? She left. A pain arose in my chest. Then at the door there he stood. Before we could embrace, I woke up. Howard.

129

it’s almost like we started over. like, nothing happened between us. like, i didn’t betray my boyfriend by visiting your home… twice. like, you didn’t make sexual advances toward me therefore screwing up what we had. but what did we have, really? a friendship? or, in your case, a way to get closer to me type. i’m not sure where we’re going with this. but, i want you to stay. to work on building this. whatever this is… work off that respect you say you have. work on decent conversation. the ones without you saying you want to do me. work on you and me. whatever we may be. it’s almost like we started over. like, nothing ever happened between us. i’m not sure where you’re going with this. but i want you to stay. and 5th.

Desert Rains

Uncomfortable.
The bed and pillow soaks under dry eyes.
My heart screams for water,
drenched in the Nile River.
I lay confused, wet, in dry sands.
Uncomfortable.
Desert rains.

After him, I convinced myself that I wouldn’t feel anymore. That I wouldn’t wholeheartedly involve myself with another man. That there was no way I was going to let another man get to me like that and have me all delusional or what not. I loved him so much. I really did. I don’t want to be one of those vindictive people who list the things they’ve done for someone and can’t believe it went left, but I have to. I’m sorry. I’ve never been so ready to give up all of what I believed in for someone. ever. He changed so many things about me, it is unbelievable. That relationship took me back to a dark place. Where I felt lost without that man. My self-esteem was extremely low. My confidence was always impaired, but g*ddamn. He ‘loved’ me, but I was still the worst girlfriend on the planet. Here’s where a lot of people told me I went wrong; I shouldn’t have put a deadline on our ‘engagement’ or there shouldn’t have been a timeframe. What? Does that even make sense? He shouldn’t have agreed with me, bought me rings, and give me all this false hope to then tell me that that wasn’t his intention in the first place. He shouldn’t have called me stupid, dumb, crazy, or a bitch. -pause- There was no going back after that.

Desert rains.
Dry sands burns my skin as
raindrops washes it away.
Uncomfortable.
The sun burns my skin as
water washes over me from the Nile.
I lay confused, wet, in dry sands.
Uncomfortable.
Desert rains.

Flashback

“I stared at their picture. I tried to feel what she was feeling at that moment. I tried to think the thoughts he must’ve had at that moment. I cried as that picture screamed love.”

Trying to feel someone else’s happiness because you can’t seem to find your own is pathetic, but it helps sometimes. My unhappiness has been buried under hopeless loves and good sex.

The Black Rectangle 2

and while I sit here, trying to figure out if my friendship has diminished, I wait. Wait to see if they will call or text. Wait to see if they would reconsider. Wait to see if they even cared. I sit here watching as it fades into the backdrop. I wonder. Was it too sentimental… too romantic-like… I should’ve considered what it may do to the important people… to me… The pillars crumbled before they could stand. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Although we scream to fight the odds and usual, it still failed. Feels like a foot on the chest. I feel lost now. They completed a part of me, without them knowing. I feel if I must express it, it will come off too sentimental… too romantic-like… that’ll only push them away further. and grasp my heart tighter… tear it out. I love them. Love is strong vocabulary. I admire them. Admire is strong vocabulary. I hurt because of them. Hurt is strong vocabulary. I can’t seem to let go. and while I sit here, trying to figure out if my friendship has diminished, I wait. Wait to see if they will call or text. Wait to see if they would reconsider. Wait to see if they could feel my hurt… envision my tears… wait to see if they notice that the pain they tried to avoid is already here. I sit here watching as it fades into the backdrop. I wonder. Was it too sentimental? too romantic-like? sigh.

Girl

She was a friend of my best friend when I met her. She was full of laughs; always kept everyone happy. Then there was her medical problems. She scared us all with that; we became her caregivers. As we got closer, she confided in us with her deepest, darkest secrets. Until her stories came in threes. Three different ways that is. Until she claimed to know the guys we fell for and she didn’t. All of us approaching ’em, looking stupid. Until she caused what could have been a legal issue between two parents. Buying Christmas gifts in the name of someone else’s mother. Everyone felt me and my best friend were being too hard on her; you all weren’t seeing past the facade. It was disappointing. To this day, we still don’t know what’s real. We still don’t know if she really had a son and what actually happened to him. Or how many times she was ‘pregnant’. Is her name even her real name? Is she wearing a mask? She came back into my life in a different form. Good thing I confronted the problem before it escalated into something else. God bless her. In threes.

Interlude

When do I get my happy medium? It seems like either end of the spectrum in every situation. I get something or I get nothing. I win or I lose. It’s black or it’s white. Why is there never a gray area? Room for comfort? A hint of joy in every “worst scenario”? When do I get what I want? Why do I have to ask? Beg and plead? I deserve a happy medium. I work hard. I love hard. I do everything that I can for people and less for me. So. I’m waiting to be refilled. I’m waiting to be seen.

Train to Poughkeepsie

As I stare out the window of this Poughkeepsie-bound MetroNorth train (real main character-esque) and wishing that I peed before I left my house, I can’t help but wonder, what is stopping me from fulfilling my deepest desires?

Rude Awakening

His phone in hand, I was about to make a call that would change our lives forever. My life. My finger hovered over her name in hopes that I’ll blink and this would all be unreal. Adjua read the contact name on the screen as I pressed her number and moved the phone to my ear. It rung all of once when I suddenly heard, “Hey, Babe!” My voice caught in my throat. So, that’s what she sounds like. She said it so confidently, knowing it was him on the other line. “Dennis? You there?” There’s concern in her voice. Fuck. What did I do? Rude awakening in 3, 2, 1… “Hi. Adjua? This is Selene, actually. His girlfriend of eight years? Sure you didn’t know that but, yeah. Here we are.” A gasp, then, a light chuckle, “Oh. Well, I’m his friend and I’m going by what he’s told me.” His friend? Huh. Okay. This is going to be a task. I’m already ready to fight. But also, what the hell did he tell her? “Obviously, you’ve been mistaken.” What I really wanted to do was ask, “what exactly had he told you?” She did not need to know that I was insecure. I mean. That I was confirming that he’s been cheating on me. At this point, he had to be looking for his phone. I was a few blocks away on a random street. He won’t find me. Oh shit. Find my iPhone. Me calling her from his phone isn’t a clear indicator? Is she lucid? I must be the dummy. Wait. I am. The knot residing in my throat hinted at tears but I was not giving her that. What to say now? He’s mine, bitch! No. Honestly. That wouldn’t be accurate. But also I’m 35, not 15. Should I just hang up? Give her the business? Instead, “You could have him.” *click*