"we fell in love the way you fall in leaves."
Juwan "Rocky" Rockwell has had a pretty hard life. Between trying to find a way to fend for himself and dealing with the normal hardships of teenage angst, he had nowhere to turn as an adolescent and no...
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"last christmas"
I was excited, to say the least. Marlo has decided to spend Christmas and New Year's in New York. I debated on surprising him on Christmas Day by coming down to Atlanta, but once he informed me of his own plans, I had no choice but to trash the plan I was mapping out.
I last saw him a month ago, and the long distance phone calls simply were becoming lackluster. I always enjoyed listening to him talk, his smooth voice serving as my music for as long as he'd allow. I'd spend my days wishing that I was being grounded in his words, and I'd spend my nights wishing he was drowning into my ocean. More often than not, I'd channel my various levels of desire into my journal. The desire to awaken to him more often. The desire to lose everything but my sense of self in the web he was constantly spinning me into.
Sometimes, I still had my doubts. When would the spinning end? When would I hit a wall? When would I lose my footing? When would my sweet Marlo turn sour? I was waiting to be shown once again that I'm not enough. I was waiting to finally relax in his arms only to be dropped on my ass. I was waiting for the inevitable. . . but he never gave me reason to hold on to my doubts. He never stumbled. He never let me down. He always made me feel as though I was more than enough. I just hoped that the man he was and the man he showed me was the same person.
I desired being held in his arms while jazz filled the air the way aromas do and while we swayed the way grass blades do when caught in breezes. I yearned to hear him sing to me in person rather than over the phone. I feened for the feeling of his large hands pressing into my back as if he were trying to find a trap door that'd enable him to fall into me the same way I fell in love with him.
And I was still falling.
I was in a never ending pitfall, and it was terrifying. Here I was: in love. I was in love while still learning to love the things I hate most about myself. I was in love, and I couldn't fight it. I surrendered to my heart. I accepted my feelings, and Marlo had done so as well. . . So, why was I still guarding my heart? Why was I holding onto it as if he didn't already have it? I was beginning to resent myself because of it, and Marlo knew it. He always knew because he always saw through me. I allowed him into my home without taking into account that I'm a glass house.
Nonetheless, we were spending the holiday together, and that was all I wanted. It was our first Christmas together, and his first Christmas and New Year's in New York. I wanted to make things special for him, but I simply didn't know where to start.
I anticipated Sweets organizing a small dinner for Christmas, but when the holiday grew closer and closer and I had yet to see plans being set in motion, I confronted her.
While she was cooking for the upcoming week, I took a seat at the kitchen table and spoke up. "Sweets, what's the plans for Christmas?" "Oh, I'm going to Rashad's for Christmas. He's having another get together. You missed Thanksgiving— Friendsgiving," she corrected herself in the midst of issuing a fact that I was well aware of. "Yeah, I know," I sighed deeply.
