She prayed for clarity and you charmed us all.
Thought you were the angel sent to add a ray of light to an already comfortable soul.
We all bigged you up, started speaking about the things you did for her. The flowers, impromtu nights out dancing the jig and the numerous meals you would procure at various restaurants throughout the city.
You knew your shit, had the game on lock. Made her feel good about the reality of having a dude that was as fond of the city as she. Hell even I wrote about you, mentioned her newfound glow and asked if you were here to “disrupt her flow.” Her beauty was elevated and it was nice to witness that euphoric delight. She would beam to her girlfriends in a jovial tone about this recently discovered bliss. But the tide shifted and became a windstorm.
She prayed for clarity. You would vanish for a few days and return with that same-sad-shit about time spent with your mom. And the lascivious sex that had become a part of your daily routine... she knew something was up when even that became a burden. There you lay, a drained lump of a man, your fatigue robbing her of a mere ten-minute high. But no spring chicken, afraid to face the truth and call you on your shit was she.
And she did. Many times. Again you come with that same Motherly excuse.
(Why are mothers always the irrefutable alibi?)
She prayed for clarity. But your performance was inevitably coming to a close. She knew something was up. If not for the passing of your grandmother she would have told you that night. She tried comforting you, even told you she would abandon her visitor to be near to you in your time of mourning. You resisted, said you were going to be with your mother and family.
She relented. Denied her own emotions and took the backseat to a dead ancestor, went about her business and enjoyed the beauty of a NY skyline. With you still on her mind, she stopped that night to respect the cry of an empty stomach. Thai, which thanks to you was a new favorite of hers.
A city of 8 million people can’t conceal a snake. Surprise, there you are. But not alone. Didn’t think you would see her ass did you? Wait..you didn’t see her. She saw you. And with a tap on the shoulder she made sure that you saw her see you. The look on your face was priceless. Couldn’t even finish your food. Yet she ate all of hers...amidst the laughter and irony. And with that chic? You dissed her for that? Is that what mourning looks like?
She prayed for clarity and received Divine Intervention.