Monday, May 12, 2014

Letter to My Younger Self



When you're nineteen, and almost a junior in college, you will receive a phone call. You'll be smack dab, in the middle of a house party, watching girls tipsy two-step and boys lust from dark corners. You're only two drinks in, so you know the number is one you genuinely don't recognize. You've never received this call before. You'll wish you'd never answered.

You are bored. A random phone call is better than trying to assimilate, at the typical house shindigs that you abhor, but your friends always get you to go to. You disappear into the bathroom, catching the phone call on its last ring.

There's a famous emcee on your phone.
You have mutual friends and you've seen him perform once or twice.
However, you never thought he'd be calling you.

You will immediately cast away your wherewithal. Ignore the fact that it's 11pm. Completely disregard that there's no context, for this phone call. Swallow your inquiries, with your next drink.

Enamoring isn't it?
Having an almost stranger call and tell you things about yourself you wouldn't know unless you were a fly on the wall.

He spoke a foreign language. It was called compliment:

"I was at a cipher today and a young girl told me that she looked up to a female emcee. I was nervous, because I thought she'd say Lil' Kim or Foxy Brown. I'm a conscious rapper. That would've broken my heart. However, she said Riva. I didn't expect that. I heard your name a few times before, but I didn't know you had a little following. I called a few friends and got your number. How could I not have a woman who loves what I do and inspires the youth, on my side?"

Stop slinking girl. You're far too comfortable in the nook between the toilet and the bathtub. You're ignoring the knocks on the door, begging for entry. Your eyes do that glazing over thing they do, when you're in like or love. It's been fifteen minutes. Get a hold of yourself.



It's me. Grown up you.

I am your repercussion.
I am you, after the storm, whole and solidified.
I can tell you what the rain feels like.
I know you haven't experienced it yet, but it always starts as just a drizzle.

You will be invited to concerts. You'll sit in the front row and he'll direct verses to you, letting the women in the crowd envy your smile. You'll wear his favorite color, because he asked you to, knowing that he notices every time.

& then you'll notice another girl in the same color, in the same row.
& another.
& another.

You wonder if this coincidence or plain disrespect. You ask him. He lies.

I know you don't want to hear this. You've got a good thing, why mess it up? You think I'm here to revitalize your ways and tame you.

I'm not. In fact, I want you to stay right where you are.

Naive.
Clinging.
Anxious.
Praying for love.
Wondering where your rainbow is.

This tremble and shake will make you the rock you are today.

It's with this man that you'll learn what fidelity doesn't look like. You'll understand the error of a man's ways, before he can enact them. You'll learn the difference between the truth and a lie. You'll spend hours making excuses for why he hasn't called or shown. You'll figure out that your excuses are far more interesting than the ones he never bothered to give.

You will take this information and use it to your advantage, in the future. You'll maneuver the maze of male idiosyncrasy like an expert. Be prepared to know things you'd rather be ignorant to. Get ready to be an advocate for love and all things faithful. Know that this is a plight. Sometimes a lonely and courageous one. Live it up, right now.

Because you're in for some serious solid ground. Unwavering.