Yesterday I got home really early. I was to read a book. I used to love books, not so much anymore but since people still think I like them I put one on my desk and try to read, most times this is an effort in futility. It’s like series, I try to commit to one show but I keep on moving from one to the next. I’m one of those people who believe that someone’s mannerisms and mundane habits can tell a lot about things like if they are going to be faithful, be mean to their kids or even make a horrible boss. I am trying.
I love the sun, not the heat but the salient glow it leaves on the skin or on your moods. I have lavender curtains and sheers. I generally wake up at seven and draw the curtains, take a short nap, then I wake up for the last time with the sun rays filtering through onto my face. I also love the five o’clock evening sun in the office by some large window next to some pretty seats. I wanted to capture this moment today. The sun gently slipping through this window and projecting on this friend’s skin. She has nice skin but the sun has a way of magically transforming how it all looks to a different level. When I was a kid I used to like putting my hands in water and my skin would feel mulberry, long before I knew mulberry was a colour. So I think of skin texture and feel in colours. Her skin looked peach, like my peach bedsheets that remind me of childhood. I didn’t want to explain all these stuff so I took a number of photos to capture the moment but she was too engrossed on my phone and laptop. She was trying to solve my phone issues- for the last two days people have been complaining that I sound like I’m whispering- I do not know how to whisper. I was once thrown out of the library for whispering too loudly.
Yesterday the sun was not peach, it felt coral leaning towards a sober shade of orange. It reminded me of some cocktail that had just a splash of alcohol. The name escapes me but when I took it I was in a foreign place, with interesting people, one of whom I thought I had fallen hopelessly in love with. Before I knew what colours felt like or falling in love was like I used to dream of my wedding, in my sleep kind of dream. How I felt about the sun during these moments is how I felt yesterday, coral, a little mellow, knowing that things are just subtle.
At this point it is still not clear to me if I get to have a wedding or with whom? I think weddings are interesting. My childhood wedding dreams were interesting but they were never church weddings. A number of people who are close to me have found their ‘person’ and are going for it so that is why I was lying on my bed thinking about the sun and weddings.
The best part of my dreams used to be that I never saw the guy’s face. I was always so happy and playful during my weddings, not a bad sign. I have not met someone who makes me feel peach, coral or turquoise. The colours I hope to feel in my heart before I write my vows.
I was thinking about a song that only only one other person has appreciated so far. This person happens to be a partner at my firm, just a coincidence, they say you hire people like yourself. PS, definitely not a romantic interest. I wanted to tell him that he is the first person I know who likes Kenny G but I decided to scroll through my phone in the back seat as the adults talked about important things like black empowerment in front. The irony is the song is called Sentimental, a song about lost love. For some reason whenever I listen to Kenny G these words from my favorite Frank Sinatra song come to mind: Call me irresponsible, call me unreliable, throw in undependable too. Do not think I’m lost. I love diverse things and I am a contrast. From my friends to my other important choices.
So at this point I texted one of my friends about how I was feeling and they asked me a question: If I was to get married to someone I had already met who would it be? Last week I would have been kinda sure. For now it will be the person who makes me feel like I feel when I listen to Be My Man by Asa.
Well, when everyone around you is feeling ‘weddingy and marriedy’, the least you can do is write about how you think of the whole thing and acknowledge that it takes a lot to feel these colours and songs. Maybe continue stalking this famous couple I have been stalking for years, still do even after they left Washington. Somewhere in one of the books about them they say his car had a hole and she could see the tarmac as the car moved (I hope I didn’t read my own things). Whenever I want to write someone off for a shallow material reason I think of this. I also think of the fact that he was trying to get himself together and go after his thing. She had her goals too.
I guess whenever I think of my wedding I also want to write something.