moved

so last night I moved.

i sat staring at lights from the back seat of the chinatown bus - behind the sleeping brown skinned man with locks who could have very well been someone famous. but it was late, and my ability to care was missing.

i wanted to write something to my biddi (that's what i call him) but nothing came to mind. I hadn't talked to him in what seemed like forever, so I had no new inspiration...at least nothing that would pop off the page and make him call or text me between his packing and hugging his people goodbye. see...he's moving, too.

I wanted to ask the asian lady three seats up if she could tell me how far mahattan was from my new newark townhome...but I knew she had no clue.

newark. newark is now going to be the place where sunday dinners occur. the place where the bed becomes crowded and the wine bottles fill the trash can.

I sat in the closest seat to the restroom hoping noone needed to shit bad enough to use it.

the sean john hoody across from me came hints of the man beneath it. had it not been for the weed and cherry blunt smell, he may have gone unnoticed. his bag strap was tied tight around his arm so he could sleep in peace.

he is formally educated on basic economics. whatever he carried in his bag would feed him for months, I hoped.

and between playing 'where's waldo' with the moon and checking for attractive faces within 5 feet of me, I could think of only my biddi.

I want him.

and the bridges came and left...

and newark was no longer just a thought.

last night...I moved

put my face up in...

so last night i 'put my face up in his neck and breathe(d).'

he and i connected on more than the random conversations after midnight while 3000 miles apart. this was one of those 'wow...you think this could be HIM' type things. but i never wanted to say it out loud because shit can easily be jinxed. feel me?

but now the distance between us was much less than the 3000 miles that had existed before, but i miss him the same, and me having to skip to new york on a humbug mission didn't make that any easier. but i had to make the trip for work.

there's always that one song that reminds us, at least me, of that person we're trying to one day create a joint account with, buy a dog with, fight over who ate the last corner of the lucky charms with. for me it's j. holiday's "bed." i know...i know the song is old...but it still has that feel.

and it's not the whole song...it's more so the second verse. 'i'm staring at you while you sleep. irreplaceable beauty. put my face up in your neck and breathe. take you into my senses. wake up it's time to finish round two. 'round two. matter of fact it's closer to three. she's like "how long i been sleep"'.

damn...it does it even when writing this.

so i have that some placed randomly throughout my ipod playlist so it will play repeatedly and i can think about him and smile.

the flight attendant spilled a v8 juice on my express button up, but j. holiday forced me to give her a smile and my eyes went back to the ground thousands of feet below.

the white walls in the hotel room blew me. the bathroom was a joke. it wasn't bad at all, it was just too big, and the tub had massaging jets. the punchline was that i stood in there alone...no one to sit behind and breathe softly on his neck because i know it makes him freeze up. no one to stand in the bathroom while i brush my teeth, then kiss me afterwards to make sure i did a good job. i stood there alone.

i was supposed to call him from the plane once i landed, but talking to him while so far away only makes the loneliness that much more real, so i put that phone call on hold. i needed time.

he answered on the first ring, "you just landing?"
i lied, "yeah."
and we did the cliche after flight conversations about the comfort of the flight, the loud ass babies, and the white man beside me who wants to talk the whole flight to whoever listens.

then he says "i miss you already. how long are you away from me again?"
i smile and frown simultaneously somehow.
"a week or so. no longer than two."

then silence. he sighed.
we talked about the rain in atlanta and how it probably had something to do with how sad he had just became.

i didn't want to talk about the perfect day in new york.

the call was dropped.
i called back, but it went straight to voice mail. his phone must have died.

i called the airline.
there was one seat left on a flight leaving atlanta in 2 hours.

"my bad. my phone died."
"it's cool. where you at?"
"about to leave the mall. probably go home and take a nap. not feeling too up to do anything right now."

for a second i forgot i had just brought him a ticket to come see me before the sun set, so i was feeling sad, too, and was prepared to lay down on the king size bed and stare through the lace curtain from my 17th floor miniature suite.
then it hit me.

"take your car home, and get a ride to the airport within the next hour. i've been sitting here on this bed by myself listening to j. holiday."

he laughed. "are you serious?"
i laughed back. "yes. gotta be quick though."

i would have sworn the rain in atlanta had stopped. the first class ticket was worth the excitement.

"i don't have time to pack, though"
then a pause.

"just grab your toothbrush and your charger. and maybe a pair of swimming trunks. we'll go from there."

i ordered 'coming to america' on pay per view, and a shrimp and lobster pasta from the restaurant downstairs.

the bashful sun was attempting to hide behind a few night clouds, but it had not yet disappeared. it was beautiful. too beautiful to witness alone. no one would believe the sight.

and then the knock.

everything became blurry between the walk to the door and us laying on the bed, our legs locked, staring out of the window as the sun changed into her moon dress.

and i put my face into his neck. and breathed.

this was the life we asked for.