Thursday, March 11, 2010

Part Three: Will His Nighttime Thoughts Disappear at Sunrise?

"I can't say I came prepared
I'm suspended in the air
Won't you come be in the sky with me?"

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Did you miss PART ONE and PART TWO?

I was at the podium, reading to an adoring crowd through black-framed glasses.

As I lifted my gaze from the pages, I saw a sea of clapping hands—but could not hear applause. I beamed from my perch. This dream was interrupted by my phone and my doorbell, simultaneously yearning for my attention.

Sleepily standing at my door, I knew who it was before the voice even came through the intercom.

"It's Aaron," he said. Instinctively, my heart jumped. But my mind, my brain, the practical part of my body, at past 1 am, was frankly not in the mood.

I had grown beyond weary. I was tired of traveling on this roundabout with this man who on so many occasions made it clear that we were not a we; we were just he and I.

As I heard his shoes meeting the stairs of my building, I was reminded of something Carrie said after she gallantly threw rocks at Aidan's window on Sex and the City: Why is it that when women make bold gestures it comes off as psychotic, stalkerish, single woman behavior, but if a man does the same thing, it's considered romantic?

Waiting at my door, I anticipated letting a boozed up Aaron into my home. We'd be in bed and I would listen to him unload his emotional dirty laundry unto me: how much he missed me and needed me in his life; how he wanted and wished he could give me everything; and how much he loves me.

"You know I love you, right?" he's asked me on so many other nights that mirrored this one.

These were Aaron's nighttime thoughts, revelations and feelings and thoughts and confessional quips that somehow felt safe in the comfort of the evening's darkness.

It reminded me of the time in Their Eyes Were Watching God, when Tea Cake told Janie, "You got me in the go-long," and Janie doubts him because these thoughts were said at night when it seemed having sex was a possibility. To Janie, Tea Cake's confessional thoughts would disappear with the rising sun.

But Janie wakes up early the next morning to Tea Cake at her door: "Thought I'd try to get here soon enough to tell you my day time thoughts...You needs tellin' and showin', and that's what I'm doin'."

So there Aaron was, standing in front of me. He wasn't sweaty or drunk. He wasn't apologetic. His stare was pointed as if he had something to say. I moved out of his way to let him in.

I can't remember exactly what words were exchanged because I shut myself off. I turned off the constant flow of narrative that usually streams in my mind on nights like these. I stopped expecting anything and just received, like a one-way radio receiver stuck on a slow jams channel.

On this night, Aaron played DJ: He told me about his night, how he left his house and happened upon my street. Then he corrected himself, "No, I left my place looking for you. I wanted to be here with you." He told me he was tired of agonizing over his next move, over whether or not he should or had the right to call me.

Lying beside me in my bed, he said, "I'm tired."

I could hear it in his voice. He was ready.

This whole time, from our very first date, I was ready and now he was finally on the same channel. Finally, after nearly a year of traveling on this relationship roundabout, we were listening to the same station.

It was then, while he lied still at my side, I turned off my receiver and gave myself to him:

"Make room for me," I pleaded. And his answer was, "Okay."
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