yesterday i found out my mother had a picture of me and a good friend of mine...
we're sitting on a couch...in some dorm somewhere. i can't remember what year it was taken or for what, but it's an 8x10 glossy, so it must have had some purpose. his hair was relatively short...my nails look like acrylics. it was probably around sophomore year...97 or 98.
my eyes are closed. i'm leaning against his chest. he has his arms around me....a very couple-esque pose. he's looking out towards something...maybe a television. maybe he's just deep in thought. he seems kind of tired. i look like i might be about to say something. or about to smile.
the last time i saw him was in 2001. it was early winter, and he came to spend a weekend with me...wanted to see the city & get out of boston for a second or three. he was ecstatic that i had (finally) decided to loc my hair--he was always asking me why i never wore my hair in braids or why i wouldn't just let it go natural...rock a 'fro or something. and his eyes would shine when he talked about it.
unfortunately, we lost touch pretty soon after that weekend.
strangely enough, i had a completely unprovoked dream about him the night before this picture resurfaced. i'm hoping this is a sign.
he nursed me thru a broken heart...introduced me to jerk chicken and the warm, brown-sugar sweetness of first generation west indian guys... took me to my first live reggae show... was always willing to act like my man to keep the undesirables away.
he let me twist his locs when the closest i'd ever gotten to a head full of hair like that was in my dreams... let me cook for him and fuss over him, and i was never anything close to being his girl.
we had some moments.
and a marriage pact ("if neither of us is married by the time we're 40...").
he made me feel beautiful in a place where i simply wasn't seen and at a time when i'd never been so unsure of myself.
you might know who you are by now...so, if by some strange turn of fate, you've come across this page, i hope you're well. something tells me you're probably all tied up w/ some wonderful woman & maybe even a kid or two (congrats), but you can call a sista, dammit.
i miss you.