Monthly Archives: December 2007

Rushed: Part I

Rushed: Part I
By: Mia L. Hazlett
12/7/07

Our relationship started with a brief introduction by our mutual friend. My mouth barely turned its corners. His hand gave a weak wave. We walk away. Time passes. A movie reunites us again. With the brush of our shoulders, a connection is made. That look of recognition crosses both of our faces. It’s a full smile I give this time and add a flirtatious giggle. He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. My girlfriend walks on to the car and I don’t notice him in the company of anyone. He shares a quick joke at the expense of the only commonality between us, our friend. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as he searches for a pen and piece of paper. As if I should be so desperate to receive a phone call, I share my home, cell and work numbers. And from there, forever began.

Days pass and I wonder when or if he will call. There is no possible way he cannot reach me…wait…I should have given him my e-mail. That is the way these days, isn’t it? Well in the interim old can’t be bad, I mean it is familiar. I call my ex and flirt the best I know how. He reads through my effort and tells me he is on his way over. Amen….no batteries tonight. As he leaves I am upset that the batteries didn’t win. I expect my bed to be empty once they have served their purpose. Why did he have to rush home to her? He always spent the night with her when we were together. Pregnant or not, he was my man first.

I reach for my phone at work and don’t recognize the deep smooth tone on the other end. I am ecstatic that he has finally called me. I don’t care what I have to do; I am not going to mess this relationship up. Ahead of myself from a simple little phone call…yeah, maybe. But I can just tell that he is The One. Wait till I tell my girls, they are not going to roll their eyes at this guy. Nope, he is a keeper. I fly home and make four different phone calls with the same story. All my friends sound doubtful, but I won’t let them steal my joy. I’ll prove to them how right he is for me. I know I am only taking this off of one phone call, but sometimes you just know when you’ve met the right one for you…I have never felt this way before. Well at least not lately.

I finish applying my lipstick and take one last look at myself in the mirror. Damn I clean up nice! I squirt a freshening spray of perfume and walk into my living room. I ease into my couch so as not to wrinkle my anywhere black mini dress. My cleavage glistens from my lavender shimmering body lotion. That’s right, I am on fire tonight. I can’t believe it’s me waiting for him; usually I am slipping into my dress as they arrive. Concern sets when I think that he could be lost. And I never even thought to ask him for his number after we made the date. How could I be going out with this man and not have a way to contact him? I bet he is lost. He’s already twenty minutes late. Or what if he forgot? He hasn’t called me in two days. What if he thinks its tomorrow night? Wait…is it tomorrow night and not tonight? Maybe I have the days confused. I could have sworn he said Friday. I need to calm down and just wait. If it gets to be an hour, than it is definitely tomorrow and not tonight.

I startle awake as I almost roll of my couch. The coffee table stables me as I gather my senses. My vision comes in tact and I catch a glimpse of my living room clock and it is going on midnight. I check the caller ID on both my house and cell phone…no calls. How could I get the nights confused? I was all dressed up with no place to go, but now I’m all wrinkled and disheveled. I throw my dress over the back of my chaise in the bedroom and crawl into bed. I feel so ridiculous. I have talked this night up over the past two days to my friends and told them not to call me after seven, because I would be on my hot date. I could dodge them for a day and wait to talk to everyone until Sunday morning. That way I will be able to treat tomorrow night’s date like tonight’s date and they won’t even have to know I screwed the nights up.

No sooner am I asleep, than my phone rings. I fumble with the phone without checking caller ID and hear that sweet voice as I groan out a hello. I muster up as much pride as I can when I hang up the receiver and realize I was stood up. There was no emergency, he didn’t get lost; he fell asleep and woke up a few minutes before the phone call. Sleep doesn’t come easy for the rest of the night. I didn’t have a chance to get his phone number, and notice he is a private caller on my ID. I’m short on tears as I dodge my friends’ calls the next day. We never rescheduled for another date at 2:30 this morning. So I guess that leaves me waiting for another phone call with Mr. Mysterious. I am tempted to call my ex and ask him to come over, but rejection is just not something I can handle right now if he says no. I opt for a bag of chips and a lazy Saturday afternoon cable movie.

I come out of my pity party and call me friends. They tell me not to worry about it. It’s not as though it has been anything more than a few phone conversations. I wear the smile they put on my face throughout the following week. I’ve done a pretty good job with forgetting about The One until….ring. Another date made and here I stand in front of my mirror again with the lipstick and perfume, complimenting myself. The one difference this time, I have his cell phone number. No falling asleep for him. I’m perfectly coiffed, sparkling in all the right places, and ready for my night. After ten minutes on the couch, my anxiety leaves as the doorbell rings. With our first date, forever begins.

Happy, content, fulfilled, whatever word you want to use, that’s how I feel. Four weeks in with my Mr. Right and nothing can take me off my cloud nine. I can actually say the word love this early on. I mean he is just so upfront and honest about everything. I know exactly who I am dealing with and don’t have to spend months falling in love to turn around and have a bombshell dropped on me. I mean long and short he is in the midst of separating from his wife of fifteen years. They have an eighteen year-old son, twin twelve year-old daughters, and a three year-old son. He is just sticking around for the kids right now, but he has already filed the separation papers. My girls are not overjoyed by the situation, but he told me his soon-to-be-ex, is the devil herself. And from the stories, I can see why he is leaving her. I mean if he wants to come home and have dinner on the table waiting, I don’t see a problem with that. She is a stay at home chick; that is her job. But the point is; I know this already. He has been completely forthcoming.

I am going to give him the world once we get a place together. He says once he moves out we will get a bigger place, probably buy a house. We’ve already discussed everything, and I already know I have to put everything in my name because his wife is such a gold-digger. We would lose everything to her…not a chance. She had her chance and lost; now it’s my turn and time to shine. I just wish things would move along more quickly. I am ready for his past to end and for our future to begin.

(to be continued)

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Forever Changed

Forever Changed
By: Mia L. Hazlett
12/5/07

You never know when the first day of the rest of your life begins with a person. In fact, it’s not until sixteen years later that you look back on that first day and thank God for His life- changing blessing. It was the day you waited for your entire teenage life…turning eighteen and going off to college. It’s that day when you found yourself wandering aimlessly on a new college campus, like a kindergartner on their first day of school. You smiled back at anyone that showed you some sign of attention, just so you didn’t have to endure the entire experience by yourself. But as they passed you by, you gave up the chance to introduce yourself and embark on a new friendship. You got to the point that you wanted to start crying, because you actually missed your parents and home. You realized that you were out of your safety zone and you wanted to put your security blanket back on.

As you scanned your list of events for the day, a familiar face smiled at you from across the field. Not familiar in the sense you thought you recognized them, but familiar in the sense that you now knew you were not the only black girl again. You returned her smile and welcomed her company as she came to sit down next to you. She introduced herself and gave you a small piece of paper. It had something about “Afro-Am”, but you didn’t want to waste your time reading it and pass up the opportunity of having your first conversation of the day. Two hours in and you hadn’t talked to a single person. You’ve ignored her piece of paper, but she goes on to explain her organization and tell you the meeting time and place. At the end of her sales pitch she bid you a farewell and walked away.

With that brief five minute encounter, God introduced you to your best friend. Because from there, you would end up attending her meeting and becoming part of her organization. You would abuse her open-door policy and begin to share your darkest secrets. You would embrace her with your arms and all your heart and soul as you depart, knowing she is going home to tell her parents she’s pregnant at 21. You would run full sprint up a flight of stairs with her back pack, all in the name of a pregnancy prank. You would impatiently pace the waiting room anxious for the announcement of her firstborn. You would lend her your shoulder as she announces her divorce to you. You would cry with her when she tells you she is going back home to California with the baby. You would celebrate with her when she returns from California baby in tow. She would stand by you as your bridesmaid in your first wedding. She would laugh with you as you both realize she has the peanut butter, you have the jelly, but neither of you have any bread. She lends her shoulder as you announce your divorce. You both celebrate each other as you become adults…she moves away to Texas and you move to Virginia. She supports your pregnancy long distance. You fly to Texas for her second wedding. She understands your paycheck to paycheck struggle with your newborn. She comes to visit you when you move back home to your parents’ house. She gives you a hearty congratulation when you remarry. You are overjoyed at the announcement of her second pregnancy and blessed at the birth of you Godchild. You both offer stability through the stormy years of your marriages. She announces to you that you may be pregnant again and advices you to get a test. You support her decision to end her second marriage and open your home as she looks for homes in your area. You both agree that Texas would be better for her and the kids. You bid her farewell and good luck as she leaves you again. You pray for her as she builds her first home and thank God for her success as she stamps her mark on Corporate America. She pushes and edits your writing as you struggle through the first year with your publishing company.

You look back to the first day with that person and sixteen years later realize who God brought into your life….your guardian angel, your advocate, your biggest fan, your biggest critic, your shoulder, your patience, your conscience, your children’s second mother, your marriage mediator, your doctor, your pastor…all and all your friend and sister. And by this one person being in your life, you have been forever changed.

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