Perspective

PERSPECTIVE: Inside My Love

By Cory, LINX Collaborator 

It’s funny how the first person I thought about wasn’t you, but, indeed, my mother, when the nurse confirmed it. Quite naturally, the feeling of devastation followed, immediately, by a feeling of murderous rage, when she gave me the diagnosis followed by her words of comfort, “You can still have children”. (I mean, did this bitch really think I wanted kids?) After a few Kleenexes and her giving me my prescription, I was ready face the world with my new blood. You still didn’t cross my mind.

After picking up the prescription that they didn’t tell me makes you vomit violently if you take it on an empty stomach, I sat at the #6 bus stop. I saw him. Denell. Of ALL days to see him. It’s not that I didn’t want to or have been avoiding seeing him. It’s just that working down the street from him or the past two years, I’ve never casually bumped into my ex-fiancé. He looked good. Apparently, I did too, when he said, “You lookin’ good! Happy Birthday!”

“No. It’s tomorrow, but thank you!” (He could never remember my birthday.) I thought about how when me and him would be having sex, how I would just allow myself to be open and vulnerable to him. I thought about how when he was in me, there was no other place where he (or his dick) wanted to be. I remember I used to think of Minnie Riperton’s “Inside My Love” when me and him fucked. And how he would joke after we woke up saying I sounded like her. I got off the bus (not at my usual stop) before the thought of how me and him not ever doing that again could cause tears. That thought stung. However, I still didn’t think of you.

Two buses and a trip to Harold’s later, I was greeted at my condo by my roommate telling me about something I ain’t care about because it didn’t concern me. (I would later find out this was a distraction to advert my attention from the pending surprise birthday party in my honor. I hate surprises.) Finishing my chicken, she asked, “Why ain’t you get me no Harold’s?” Like you, she wasn’t on my mind.

Actually, you didn’t cross my mind until I saw your three missed calls.

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