falling in leaves

forty two

"escapade"

I was accompanied by insomnia, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. I wondered why the hell I felt so empty. I'd finally gotten a burdening amount of weight lifted off of me. I've nipped all of the remnants of Juwan and I's romantic relationship in a bud, and I've been focusing on building myself and my future. All was going smooth— well, as smooth as it could get right now— yet I just felt so. . . lackluster. . . and I've been feeling this way for the past four or five weeks. It felt as if I was incomplete— like a piece of me was missing— and there was no such thing as sleep until I was whole again.

Then again, I don't remember the last time I did feel whole.

Was doing something you thought would make you happy but didn't a part of what freedom was all about? If I would've known what I know now, I would've just stayed in Atlanta and let my mother run my life because this shit right here sucked. It sucked the life out of me and ruined the fantasy of adulthood I'd been living in up until this point. I was anything but a happy camper, having to not only deal with life but figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do with all these emotions and when to listen to my emotions rather than my brain. I also was learning how to pick and choose my battles. . . In short, this shit wasn't fun.

New York wasn't fun. My situation— working myself to death and stressing myself whenever I wasn't working— wasn't fun. . . but I had to remind myself that I didn't come here to have fun. I didn't place myself in this situation to have fun. I was here to grow. I was here to learn. I was here to fall and get up again and stand on my own two. . .

but damn I missed Atlanta. Life was just simpler down there. I always ended up more relaxed leaving the city than I was when I arrived. My troubles were always smaller in comparison there. . . but if I was being completely honest, I'd admit that those things were due in large part to Marlo's caring heart. Maybe that's why I missed it so much. . . I was missing him.

I glanced over at my alarm clock, finding that it was nearly 3:00. I needed to get up in three hours for work, but every time I'd close my eyes, my body would prove itself to be less than ready to slow its systems down.

After a few more moments, I sat up in bed and sighed deeply. Maybe I needed some cocoa or I needed more blankets and a colder room. Maybe I needed a release of some sort. After all, an orgasm brings along slumber that is unmatched.

I decided to just get a midnight snack instead. Usually, when I eat sugar, I crash relatively quickly. I figured that that'd be an easy fix, so I got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen.

Just as I was looking around for some chocolate, I heard the phone ring. Quickly, I approached the telephone so that Sweets wouldn't be awakened by the loud sound.

"Hello?" I spoke softly.
"Quinn with the mahogany skin."

A smile crept onto my lips and a slight sigh of relief escaped my stretched lips at the sound of the familiar voice. It'd been nearly a month since his visit to New York, and I was unsure about where we stood. I was so unsure that I'd been too scared to call him and talk to him as I usually would. I wanted to give him space. I wanted to give myself time to just. . . digest and get a few things in order.