Everything your mother didn't have time to tell you because she was too busy struggling!
Muted makeup, casual denim, biker boots and the right amount of midriff. I sat on my porch awaiting his phone call. He parked on the corner of my busy street and waited. His image, distorted by distance, grew clearer and more handsome as I approached. He greets me with a hug and wide smile. He smelled so good, just a light amount of cologne. That Whitney Houston song “I want to run to you” played in my mind. There was doves and everything.
Aware of his affinity for fine dark chocolate, pun intended, I brandished a gift of Ghirardelli cacao which made him smirk and high-five me. He opens his passenger side door and we skate off to a quaint coffee shop in my neck of the woods.
The coffee shop was surprisingly quiet, we order two teas and sat. Our conversation was relentless, honest, and full of the ups and downs of California’s churning ecosphere. A commonality we shared was that it had washed us up and spit us back out more hungry and determined to be successful. Perpetually talkative, I may have revealed more than I had cared to about my failures but I think that made me more real in his eyes, as I would have hoped.
Flashback to Monday when I was discussing this date with a coworker, he asked what I had hoped to feel with ‘mister right’ (not necessarily Wes). I told him that I have to be the astute face of correctness at all times during work and relentlessly pursue education on my free time as well as my passions. I just want to find someone I can be weak with. Which is exactly how I felt last night.
We teased and giggled. Even had a swordfight with our coffee stirrers. His gaze penetrates that wall I erect to the world as a ‘strong sister not to be fucked with.’ His eyes break me down to the little girl passing notes in the back of class. Like me? Circle yes or no.
And he does obviously, so I got out of my dreams and back into his car, return to my place and parked. The verbal firepower ceased only with his question phrased as comment, “we’re trying to decide right now if we should kiss.” He was right, but no way I wasn’t test-driving that! A kiss tells and it sells.
We lean in and ever so delicately his lips caress mine, my tongue counteracting his own movements. We have the perfect kissing chemistry, so much so, that my mind wandered to what else he was capable of? The kissing continued for another few minutes, but my aura was frozen. Mind lost, never to return. His strong hands firmly caressed my curves in the most elaborate and respectful of ways.
Before the fire brigade was called, we ended with a hug and made plans to go on a more formal date. Haven’t stopped thinking about him since. Though it was overly simple, it (and he) was the perfect date. No playing with his cell phone, no wandering eyes, and he really listens. Did I mention he is extremely smart, well read, and a simple guy that knows who he is and what he wants? I know a unicorn when I see one. I cannot wait to prove by action that I am the woman he has been waiting for.
I would like to thank Christelyn K., for hooking us up and allowing me to drool on via keyboard and for allowing Wes and I to contribute to her amazing online community. The future looks bright for us so stay tuned!
“Author of Swirling. Advocate for black women finding love across color lines. Creator of The Pink Pill.”
It’s a new year and with it, perhaps new incentive to finally pursue what you...
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