Let me take a breather because I am so confused and don't know where to begin with the story of the man I never let go of, the man who puts L to shame, the man who I should be married to, the man I still yearn to marry, the man who knows me inside and out and who would leave no doubt that I was his when I was in his company. He is Black 007 the one who changed me from a naive girl to a street wise sophisticate. Sometimes I ask if he is real or imagined? Perfection can not come in this divine human form and surely can not be owned. But I digress bloggers I need to calm this erratic beating that I think is my heart but sounds like drums of mother Africa within me.
I call him Black 007 because when we met we both were looking for a bond movie at the video rentals. I was 16, he was 18 and to me he was so mature and to be honest he is still so mature. We dated for 4 years and in that time he never pushed for me sex, all he said was "its yours and you decide when". In our 3rd year my parents marriage started to crack and all the ugly stories started to come out. They never divorced but the she said, he said war took its first victims...the naivete and trust of the three children (myself, my older brother and my twin sisters)Before my parents marriage was exposed I was so sure that I would marry Black 007 because he was goal oriented, ambitious, intelligent, gorgeous, kind, loving and supportive. When I met him he was working 2 jobs and studying for his double degree in Business and Law, by the time he was twenty he had purchased an apartment with his parents help. At the time I was 19 and I think my parents thought they did not need to shield me anymore. I found out about other relationships in the family I had envied and wanted to emulate where the truth had been hidden,(you know the usual stories of abusive husbands, cheating husbands, second and in some cases third families). It shattered my belief in love, marriage and trust. By our fourth year I was drifting away from Black 007. Finally he confronted me and asked me to make a choice. I made it on my birthday. For the first time in four years we made love. The next morning I woke him up to tell him it was over. We parted as friends but he made me promise that I would only contact him when I needed help. It has been six years and in that time I have seen him twice. One time I went to him when he needed me and the other time when I needed him. I don't know where he has been for the last two years, last I hear he was working in New York (thanks to City Girl!) The only contact I have is his email address that he set up especially for me, if I need him I email.
When I was leaving the office last Friday my heart was heavy even though the mood around me was light and jovial. Ms DWP has given the job I was after to someone else and has now demoted me. (All this in another blog I promise) I was annoyed at peoples laughter and chatter. As I stepped out of the elevator. He was just standing there. It's hard not to miss him. Not that many black well dressed good looking men in Australia. I saw him and started to wail...not cry bloggers but wail. I feel so ashamed saying it now. But seeing him was like as if God had sent an Angel to say everything was going to be alright. I looked at him and took it all in and when I reached out to hug him I was so sure he was going to disappear.
I love his bald head. I would love to lightly run my perfectly french manicured nails across his shapely head and down his chocolate neck and back up again. I love the fact that his Hugo Boss suits fit him so well. Tailored to fit each athletic thigh, hug his tapered waist while his Jacket hangs effortlessly loose and comfortable off his 6 foot 3 frame. When he reaches for me I can see the bulge of his biceps straining against the soft fabric and his crisp white shirt crackles as if electrified by being so close to that steely carriage. I close my eyes to breathe in his Issey Miyake signature scent transporting the images of he and I to an island far from here. His LL Cool J style lips almost made me lose focus of what he was saying but his hazel eyes with those little specks of gold hypnotized me, willing me to stay focused. All I hear are the words "I have moved to live in Australia, Melbourne to be specific." They say God is a comedian playing to an audience afraid to laugh... On Friday I believed it. I had stopped crying but I was unsure of what that meant. For years I have been trying to replace this man with men not even worthy to take his place and now that he is here I only want him to resume his place.
Oh ladies and gentleman summer's heat is nearly here and its light breeze has blown into Melbourne the city of sin bringing with it the sweet torturous return of Black 007. Whoooooosh!! I am in so much trouble....you won't believe the week I have had with this man, I feel so tired but there is so much to share.I am so grateful that this blog idea came up now because who else would I share with so candidly? So I ask blogsville before I leave how do you deal with your past? I need to go now I can smell a beautiful dinner wafting upstairs. Can't disappoint the Chef now? Until next time bloggers...
