The Babbling Bourgeois /bo͝orˈZHwä,ˈbo͝orZHwä/


his side, her side, their side...b-side.

A New York State of Love Part I

To not believe always seemed like the best option when dealing with him.
— BB

“No, stop it!”  I was saying below a whisper.  Jimmy was in my dreams again.  It always appeared to be the same.  Just when it got to the fight scene I jumped out of my slumber and eyes wide open into the darkness.  I couldn't understand why the same dreams kept happening.  I rested my head back onto my pillow as I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead.  I turned my head slowly to the left and all of my dreams were a reality in that moment.  My heart sank heavily in my chest, as it pounded to the beat of nothingness. All of my worst fears were being realized, I couldn't blink, all I could do was stare, was it a mirage, I was afraid to know the truth.  I closed my eyes and somehow found myself dreaming once again.

I woke up earlier than I really wanted to.  I touched the top of my head to ensure that the shower cap I’d worn to bed was still firmly in place.  My hair was covered in conditioner and I needed to wash it.  As I drug my feet out of my bedroom and into the restroom, I dreaded the fact that today was the day.  The day that everything I once knew for sure was now going to be questioned.  Was I tough enough to make this move, seriously?  Well, it was t-minus ten hours before I would know for certain.  I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and stood over the bathroom sink to detangle, I marched into the living room with my natural hair products in tow, slipped on the Love and Basketball DVD and began twisting my hair.  I half paid attention to my childhood favorite movie as I twisted up each strand.  My mind moved to Jimmy and the words he’d spoken two days earlier.  Were they real, or was this another case of  “Jimmy’s make believe hour”.  I despised the fact that he had lost my trust, more so for me, because I never knew what to believe anymore.  To not believe always seemed like the best option when dealing with him.

My hair was twisted and pinned to mimic a short hair cut, one of my favorite styles and also, easily attainable.  I looked into the mirror again, confusion drawn onto my face.  I was scared shitless, but it was now or never.  So much was riding on my plans - on this trip.  However, there was so much unfinished business here, literally.  What about D, Jimmy, Alonzo!?  I was growing tired of those names, I really was.  I wanted to run away from them all…none of them made sense in my heart anymore or my emotions or at least that’s how it appeared.  I sighed, looking for relief.  I tied my hair down with a black scarf and proceeded to make sense of the unpacked suitcase and clothes about my living room floor.  One by one each garment was folded and placed in my suitcase.  I felt as though I was packing my life away and for what, on a whim?  I shook my head to push out any last minute thoughts of changing my mind.  I imagined feelings of me falling in love with the city, the people - maybe a man.  "Pssh!  I don't need a man!"  I was doing it again, thinking of the countless ways a man could distract me from my real problems, my real goals, my real future - that was what had happened, and still felt was happening even while sleeping a mere ten feet away from me, I felt the "forces" working.

An hour had elapsed and I wasn't nearly ready, there was a change brewing, I could feel it.  Ready or not, it was taking place.


Go Confidently in the direction of your dreams, live the life you have imagined - Henry David Thoreau

© 2016, The Babbling Bourgeois