Old Habits

The first day of the new year went off without a hitch. I decided that I would busy myself with showing appreciation to the people who were nice to me while I was here.

As soon as I woke up I went to visit Kym and her boyfriend. We watched movies and hung out for most of the day. When I’m around them I feel so relaxed as though it’s not about anything, not about trying to figure life out, not about the future, not about anything but relaxing. It was a treat to witness the power of their love manifested in a warm smile, soft kisses and a sense of security that even I could feel.

That was nice.

As soon as I left their house I met up with an old co worker of mine in Marietta. She was hanging out with some guys she knew. We all chit chatted and laughed for a couple of hours before I decided to go home. But not before I placed a call to the only man I couldn’t quite figure out during the time I was at the magazine, JB.

Of everyone there, he and I had the most tumultuous relationship. He hated my leadership style and I hated when he would mouth off to me, but at the end of the day I respected his writing skills and that’s what mattered most to me. And..well…there was just something special about him.

And everyone knew it.

“He’s going to be a great husband and father,” someone once told me.

“He’s the most stable one on the writing team,” someone else said.

“JB is the only one in this company that you can really trust,” another co worker told me.

And I believed them because his countenance confirmed it. He was not loud or arrogant or even pushy. And I NEVER caught him checking me out. Not once. That’s impressive in a room full of imaginative, horny men.

I guess his mysteriousness intrigued me coupled with the fact that he was just my type, lean, dark skinned and intelligent.

I know he was surprised to hear from me. I could also tell that he was just as curious to see me as I was to see him. I invited him over but he declined politely saying he would come to my dinner because he had an early morning meeting. I shook it off. At least I tried to make peace with him, even if he didn’t accept it. By the time I reached home and changed into my sweats and a sweat shirt, I got a text message from him: Send me the directions to your place.

Oh, I see he changed his mind.

I texted him the directions and redressed myself. When I saw his name on my caller ID I picked up and he told me that he was pulling up. I went outside to meet him and when he stepped out of his car, my heart stopped.

JB was even more beautiful, more masculine, more tasty than I remembered. He walked toward me with a sly grin. His derby hat tilted slightly to the left.

We walked to my apartment and he showcased his offering: a 6 pack of apple cider. We sat next to each other on the couch in amazement as the TV blasted old jams on the Smooth R&B music channel.

“Does this feel surreal?” he asked me.

“Yes, I feel it too.”

I knew he was referring to the fact that two months ago I was his boss and now we were hanging out together all cozy on the couch. What a change in dynamic especially when we never exchanged words beyond my giving him his assignments. His words broke the ice and we chatted late into the night.

My original plan was to have secks with him, just to prove that I could since he had always seemed so oblivious to my majesty. But…But…I couldn’t. I respected him too much for that. I admired him too much to make him another one of my “fuck him and leave him” conquests.

As I walked him to the door I felt this sick feeling in my heart. I didn’t want him to go.

“Are you going to dissappear on me?” he asked sincerely.

I shook my head.

I said goodbye and sank into the soft pillows of the couch reliving our conversation, our vibe, our first time being real with each other.

I didn’t like the feeling I was experiencing. It felt too much like…like…like some bullshit I didn’t want to deal with. Stop being stupid girl. He’s still one of THEM.

But he’s so…ughhhh…So fine and so nice. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe he would be nice to me too.

The next day I texted him to say Hi and I asked him if we would see each other before my dinner party.

He texted me back: How about I take you to Sugar Hill tonight to make up for the time I didn’t escort you.

I spent the day going through my clothes, folding them up to be packed away in my car.

My hand reached for a blue sweat shirt and when I picked it up I realized that it was a size 5T. My son’s shirt.

I looked at it and held it to my chest as if somehow it would make me feel closer to him. The tears fell as I slipped the sweat shirt into the pile of clothes to keep. I had packed up some of their clothes when I first made the trip to Atlanta because I thought that they would be coming with me and we would make a new home together. I was wrong.

It’s a good thing they didn’t come with me, right? Imagine me and my boys in this crazy situation. I’m glad they have a father who has stability and can take good care of them.

By nightfall I had developed the sniffles and I took some sinus medicine to clear it up as I pushed piles of sorted clothes to the side and curled up on my blanket on the floor for a quick nap.

My ringing phone woke me and I spoke with young CEO from Houston who was calling to check up on me.

My text chimed: I’ll be there in 10 minutes. It was time for my date with JB.

I quickly hopped up and showered, unable to locate my favorite jeans until moments before he knocked on the door.

I was hella nervous. I mean…it’s one thing to enjoy a night of secks with a man, it is entirely something different to have to sit in public and talk to him knowing that within 24 hours he will have said or done something that will force you to never speak to him again.

I tried to be my usual self but I couldn’t. I kept waiting for the shoe to drop. When is he going to criticize me and tell me how I need to improve? When is he going to look at me in disgust or annoyance the way the other men in my past have?

I managed to shake the fear off for most of the evening and I think we had a good time at Sugar Hill. Sugar Hill is a club in the Underground that showcases live musicians on Tuesday nights and the place was filled with the type of women I liked to be around. Women with creative dress codes and natural hair. Men with long dreads and limber fingers. Creative types. I enjoyed myself immensely and I enjoyed being on his arm. The warmth of his hand gently guiding me as we walked felt…right.

We ended up at the Landmark Diner in Downtown Atlanta and after a nice meal of fried fish and grits, we zoomed back to my side of town.

During a moment of silence I made a decision. I would have to end this quickly. So I prepared to do what I usually do when I want to stop speaking to a man. Sleep with him.

That routine works because I feel empowered. I know that secks is what they want. Shit..I want it too. I know that there is nothing more after that but insults so after I sleep with a man I don’t speak to his ass anymore.

If I have secks with him, I will be justified in my notion that he’s just like everyone else, after one thing. I will give him what he wants so that he will walk away feeling like he conquered me but he didn’t. I pushed him away. We both win in the end.

“Why don’t you put it on that channel that we were listening to last night, the smooth R&B,” he suggested.

I looked at him and sighed, silently wishing that things could be different.

Just one time.