***Today will be my last day of guest posts on my series dedicated to looking at love from the bright side. I was so pleased with all of the submissions I was almost moved to tears! Thank you all! I will try to take a more endearing look at love in my own life as I continue my journey on allowing my inner Michelle Obama to shine through and I encourage everyone to do the same. At some point we all grow up and we stop stunting and stop living the playa life. Think about it.
This post is written by a dear friend and Sorority sister of mine Nikki H. It’s beautiful and especially so since I’ve seen her love in person. It’s a wonderful thing when you have found that person that compliments you in every way. Like a puzzle piece you fit together. ****
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Love is many different things to many different people. For me, one of the best things is cherishing the smallest gestures your partner makes, even when everything in you wants to do something different. Below is one such example, originally posted on my in-hibernation blog http://www.xanga.com/dimpledgemini.
I was drifting off into slumberland all snuggled up in my bed. It had been a while since I actually slept in it. Between sleeping at MSP’s or falling asleep on the couch, I missed the feel of my sheets and the solitude of my bedroom. This sleep would be well needed and much deserved after a long overdue morning of exercise at strip aerobics and a full day on my feet at the part-time gig. The shrill noise of MSP’s ring on my phone crept into my mind. I thought maybe I was imagining it. Sometimes it’s hard to hear my phone, especially if I close the door to my room. I heard it again. And again. And again. And yet again. Mind you it rings 2 long rings before it deems the call “missed.” I didn’t want to get out of the bed.
I called him an hour and a half ago. I was leaving work – very drained. It’s been a while since I’ve awaken before 12noon on a Saturday. One of my book clubs planned to go to a strip aerobics class at a facility out in Arundel Mills. The class was the free introductory one offered to give an overview of the facilities and what to expect in a typical session. I have a newfound respect for those who work the poles. I had a great workout, and unlike another facility in DC, I didn’t have the wobble legs that caused me to fall down the steps when leaving the studio. I signed up for a 6 session class and receive specialty shoes and a yoga mat. I also purchased a t-shirt that says “Pole Dancing is NOT a crime.” I realized I was behind schedule in leaving in enough time to get home, shower, change, and go to work. I called the manager to tell them I was running late and then realized that I needed to be at work an hour earlier than my normal shift for a staff meeting. It was 1:15pm when I left Arundel Mills. I showed up to work at 3:00pm, an hour late for my shift and 2 hours late for the staff meeting. sheesh. That meant I forfeited my place in line for late night cuts. Needless to say I left work after midnight, having to return the next day for my 12noon shift. Not the end of the world, but nonetheless, not what I intended for the day. Anyhoo back to my bed…..
My warm, soft, comfy bed. I wanted to stay there and let my body just give into the comforts of rest. To feel my chest rise and fall with the air of knowing that the day was finished. I needed the clarity of sleep to help me figure out what the next chapter of Life has for me.
But the phone kept ringing.
I inched from under the covers and made my way to the couch where I rest the phone at night. I had four missed calls from him, each being one minute apart. He didn’t give me a chance to call back…
“Hello?” I said in my best ‘Youwokemeupouttamysleepandwarmbed’ voice.
“I wanna cook you breakfast in the morning.”
Cue the warm feeling of “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww” in my veins.
We discussed the menu and he said he was on the way to pick me up. That meant I had to get up to get clothes ready for going to work the next day. WAKE UP, Nikki.
Did I mention I was hungry? On the way home from work I contemplated my late night dinner options.
#1 – McDonalds – I’m not a fan of fast food, especially McDonalds, but it was one of few options within my immediate vicinity. I scratched it off the list when remembering that I lowered my standards earlier that day when hunger pains were battling in my stomach on the hurried way to work and it was the only food choice venue I saw on my commute.
#2 – Wendy’s – I will occasionally succumb to the fast food industry by way of Wendy’s, mostly because of their fries! I decided against it because of the temptation I gave in to noted in #1.
#3 – Chez Nikki – I had a few pantry staple options that wouldn’t require too much time or energy at 12:30 in the morning.
I decided to go with the option of #3 and had every intent of opening up the cabinets until I walked into my apartment and had the chance to look at the complete disarray of the place. Bags, clothes, and shoes, everywhere. I have the habit of leaving things where they fall for days on end. So I started to do a little bit to make the place cleaner. Half an hour passed and the day overtook me. I took off all my clothes and climbed in under the covers….tired and still hungry. At least I could solve one of those problems easily.
So where was I? Okay….I’m gathering clothes for work and thinking about how hungry I am. My phone rings and MSP is downstairs waiting. On the way to his house he asks if I want ice-cream as he activates his turn signal for McDonalds. UGGH. Definitely don’t want ice-milk from Mickey D’s but I’ll settle for fries.
“Are you hungry now?” he asks. I nod my head and yawn. “Okay, no McDonalds. How about IHOP?”
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pancakes and Turkey sausage here I come.
“You’re gonna get breakfast twice,” he notices.
True, indeed.
It’s about 2:15am and, of course, IHOP is the club after the Club. Everybody was in that place trying to get something good in their stomachs. The wait wasn’t long, but we decided to get the food To Go instead. The couple that came in behind us had just seen “Roscoe Jenkins” at the movie theater and said they died of laughter. We talked with them until their table was ready. Our conversation then turned to the various characters in the restaurant: The Nighttime Police Officer, The Host running the waitlist, The Night Manager, the endless stream of drunk Light Skinned People coming in, the local club hopping cliques of women and gay Black men.
Then we saw a waitress walk over covered in some light colored liquid. She motioned for the police officer and pointed to a heavy set light skinned man staggering toward the bathroom. We heard him retch his stomach before reaching the door.
Yep. You guessed it. He emptied his binge drinking stomach on the poor waitress at the table and then at the bathroom door. The officer put on surgical gloves and a mask and headed toward the bathroom. The waitress stood in plain view of everyone as her manager told her to go home.
“Oh, I only live 3 blocks away. I’m coming back after I change my clothes.”
The smell was awful (at least to me). I seemed to be the only one who could smell that intense odor. I walked out of the restaurant into the other waiting area and then outside when that didn’t help. An empty stomach and that stench made me very queasy. I walked up and down the sidewalk taking deep breaths.
“Hey, don’t walk down too far. I can’t see you from the windows,” MSP said when he stuck his head out.
I wrapped my scarf around my nose and mouth and sat in the other waiting area with him. We were talking with others who came out to escape the creeping smell.
At his place I inhaled my food and got into bed. It was 3:30am. We talked about various things and nothing in particular. I love our late night bedtime chats. Something about the communication while on the verge of dreamland seems magical to me. The last time I looked at the clock it said 4:23am
I was awaken by MSP tickling my nose.
“Here’s your tea.” He remembered the honey, too. I sipped a little and then drifted back to sleep. I woke up with a craving when he came in to check on me.
“Can I have dessert first?”
He likes his dessert at night; I like my dessert in the morning. He obliged me and then brought breakfast in on a tray.
It was delicious and satiating and wonderful. I got up to get ready for work and kissed his sleeping face before leaving.
“Thank you for The Good Stuff, Double Edition,” I whispered in his ear. We both grinned.
I looked at his face – his creased eyelids, ebony skin, full lips and squared cheeks.
I kissed him again, and whispered our code for “I Love You” before heading out the door.
Filed under: Guest Posts, Sex/Relationships | Tagged: love | 1 Comment »