DFA Writes

ugh. January 29, 2009

i just don’t like that chick.
she thinks she knows it all, but she’s stupid… as hell…

but i don’t say anything rude to her because he likes her…

let’s see how long this lasts.

CONT.

ok, so i started thinking about the whole thing.
why does he like her and not me?
why does she act as if he’s not the BEST guy she’s ever encountered?
why am I not upset that he likes her…

answers?
she’s pretty.
she hasn’t always been this way.
in that twisted little mind of hers, there is some form of amazing substance.

she’s stupid.
[as i stated above]
she wants the benefits without the committment.
it’s easy.

i thought i might be…
but as he continued to express his affection for her,
i understood.

she’s his perfect woman.

and i’m fine being his perfect friend.

strength. November 4, 2008

August 19, 2001. That was the last time I saw her sweet cherubic face before it was surrounded by the soft pink satin lining the inside of her casket. She was lying in a hospital bed in the Intensive Care Unit of University Hospital with tubes coming out of every place possible and a machine sustaining her breath. The moment I saw her I thought of my own self barely siezing life at the premature age of only a few hours. It brought a slight smile to my face. She’d taught me from my youth never to give up, and I thought that maybe she’d lead by example, but looking at her ashen face I felt my stomach muscles churn… I had asked her a week before what she’d wanted for her birthday, August 21st, and she’d replied, “to see the age of 70.” I’d wholeheartedly promised to grant her solitary wish and had every intention to follow through with it.

On a warm afternoon a few days after what I later learned would be our last conversation, her neighbor, Gayle, asked if I wouldn’t mind walking to the store with her and her daughter Nicole; who at the time was my closest and only friend. It was right around the bend, so I called to my grandmother, “I’m going to the store with Gayle!! I’ll be back in a little while!” She waved her hand at me to tell me to go ahead, and I left without so much as a second thought. We’d walked to the store and were on the way back when we heard ambulances and a fire truck. Not thinking anything serious had happened around our way we continued our frivolous conversation until the wails from the trucks got louder. My heart began to beat faster as I prayed the trucks were just passing by, but as they whipped past us in the direction of our residence I knew it was in vain. Before I realized what was happening, I was running top speed toward the parking lot in front of the group of small apartments where a crowd was now forming. Selfishly hoping one of the other residents had caused the ruckus, I looked to any pale blue door other than the one I knew opened the floodgates to my fears. I stood frozen in the middle of the street, sun beaming down on my bare shoulders, staring blankly at the commotion before me. I faintly remember Gayle wrapping her frail arms around my heaving upper body, but I jerked away and ran toward the open door. As I walked in, paramedics hurried past me and firemen pushed me aside. “Mrs. Green’s going to be fine,” one of them told me. “Your grandma’s just gonna spend a day or two in the hospital,” said another. I remained quiet as I moved past them in a trance-like state, eager to wake up from the horrible nightmare I had to be having.

Amidst the commotion, I failed to notice my cousin, Chasity, walk through the door. She looked at me with fear and sorrow in her eyes and asked, “What happened?” I could only shrug my shoulders because at that very moment I realized-I wasn’t there. I wasn’t watching out for her. I wasn’t there to help her when she fell. She hadn’t even crossed my mind. For every single second that had passed since I closed the heavy front door, I felt guilty. Maybe something different would’ve happened. Maybe she wouldn’t be going in and out of consciousness in the other room. Maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here ready to cause myself as much pain as I know my mistake is going to cause everyone else. Unable to utter a syllable… I sat. I sat as they wheeled her out on a stretcher to the ambulance. I sat as my cousin walked alongside them, never loosing grip on her hand. I sat as the uniformed disarray dwindled into an empty room. An empty home. My empty heart.

I slept at the hospital that night.

I refused to leave that waiting room without my grandmother by my side, so there I stayed. The days following were somber. I spoke to no one. I scarcely ate. I never cried unless I was protected by the four walls I found myself growing more and more attached to. They were my only friends. My sole companions. They didn’t judge, nor did they point the finger. They were my strength and my weakness. 

That dreadful August day, my mom rushed my brother and I into the car and drove at top speed to the place my family had accepted as a temporary home. When I got to the top of the perpetual flight of cold hard steps, the scene displayed before me hurt more than any pain I’d ever known existed. My dad stood there, all 6 feet 5 inches of him, sobbing like a child; crumbling into a pile of flooding eyes, pain filled cries, and short shallow breaths. Guilt washed over me, and I could feel the color and warmth bleed from my miniature figure. He must have seen what I felt because he scooped me into his arms, trying to console me. I broke his embrace, dry eyed, and pushed through the heavy doors marked “INTENSIVE CARE UNIT”. I ignored the calls for me to come back and shook loose from the nurses. I needed to see her one last time.

Looking at her picture now I can feel her presence; her warm arms screen me from all evil and wrong in the world. She looks through these pain filled eyes and whispers a remedying word in my ear. I can feel the spirit that left her body fill my own with reassurance and renewed life. She and I have become one, my body hers and her soul mine. There is no need to cry or fret. I have her within the very depths of my being and the darkest corners of my mind. I strive in this terrestrial kingdom to see her cherubic face again, and as I take steps toward my future I can see her there–smiling, arms outstretched, waiting for me to fill that empty space in her heart just as she’s done mine.

r.i.p. Barbara Lanita Green

array of thoughts. October 29, 2008

i’m sitting here texting the love of my life… but i feel so empty. for some reason or another, i don’t feel that spark; that mariposa-esque sensation in the pit of my stomach…

is something changing?
i hope not.
are my feelings for you detereorating?
God, i hope not.
no… of course not.
i’ve just got pre-relationship jitters… right?

i feel sick.
i shouldn’t be having these thoughts.
he’s been around too long.
i’ve loved him for TOO LONG for me to have second thoughts now.
i love him.
i love him.
i love him.
[click mah heels together]
did it work?
no.

but i DO love him.
i swear i do.
i know i do.

… but apparently i come in second.
i’ve always come in second.
only, i’ve never been aware of it.

October 29, 2008

surrounded by the light fall breeze.
enveloped by a sea of green
is this solid piece of excellence.

so immobile,
so plain,
but holding countless memories
in that cracked floor.

the cool stone beneath my feet.
the stories engraved into every brick
that support the statuesque frame.

the drone of the cooling system
blends with the underlying sound of
traffic
and it sounds like music to my ears.

the lights have gone dim.
transparent curtain closed.

the stage is empty.

and although void of any action,
the story never ends.