I approached her after church, but that was only after I went back & forth on it about a hundred times during the service. I sat near the back, I was new & I hadn’t been going there a month yet. Still needed to feel my way through. She sat towards the middle. She had an aisle seat. She had on all Black. Black shoes, Black skinny jeans, a Black buttoned down collared shirt with a Black leather jacket. Black rimmed spectacles. Her jet-Black hair pinned down, I couldn’t tell whether or not it was long or short. Didn’t matter. I’d take her bald. My eyes were fixed on her the entire time, watching her leap up & down to all of the songs, flailing her hands around like tree branches in a windstorm. When she wasn’t doing that, she teetered back & forth like a seesaw. She was digging the music, all the while I was digging her. I liked how free she was. She wasn’t bound by anything & she didn’t care how she was perceived by the church or maybe even the world. I wanted that freedom. I wanted that level of liberation for myself. I knew I always had it, but I kept it bottled up inside. She made me wanna let loose with her. 

Dismissal. I got my things & acted like I was leaving, but would kind-of stall, as if I was waiting on somebody to walk out the door with me. I could pull it off well, because everybody was filing out of the door. Had to have been over 60 of us. I looked back & noticed that she was talking to somebody. So, I walked over to her from behind [where she couldn’t see me] & I tapped her on the shoulder. She swung around super fast, you would’ve thought I smacked her butt. I stuttered, but I managed spill out, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She looked back at me with her widened eyes bursting through her lenses & said, “Yea.” She excused herself from whoever she was talking to & I apologized for interrupting the conversation.

I said, “Hey, I’m a little nervous, but I just wanted to say that you inspire me.” I don’t know where in the Hell that came from. I mean, it was true & all, but I didn’t mean to sound so dorky about it. I wanted to sound like a 22-year-old man, but I ended up sounding like a 13-year-old boy. She chuckled, leaned in close to me & said [very slowly], “Awww! That’s so sweeeet! Wooooow!” I was trying to figure out if that was some sort of speech impediment, that’s how slow she was talking. Then she asked, “You got a Facebook?” I lied & said no. I can’t be showing people I just met my Facebook. It ain’t nothing bad on there, I’m just funny like that. I said, “But I got an Instagram?” She smiled real hard & said, “Me too! Let me look me up on your page.” I gave her my phone & she found herself. Boom. We Instagram buddies now.

& from there, it’s history. We have been best friends ever since. I haven’t found anybody who truly “get’s me” like she does. We are EXACTLY alike in so many ways, that we have prayed & fasted to God to reveal to us whether or not we are destined to be together. She’s 27 & although we are close friends today, we never really shot down the idea of us being a “thing.” But I’m content with our friendship & I know that she is too. I won’t put her name out there, but I know she’s reading this. I love you, girl. You’re my joy in sorrow & my hope for tomorrow. In my loneliness, you show up. In my sadness, you cheer me up. & I’ll never, ever forget you, no matter where life takes us both. In you, I find love & refuge. You mean the world to me, girl. My joy in pain. My comrade. My home girl. My everything.