Stories

Slow down. You have time. Take a breath. Drink a glass of water. Close your eyes. Take a bath. Go for a drive. Watch your favorite movie. Sit outside. Take time to think. Don’t rush. You have time. Slow down.

My boy and I are two different shades of color. He is a rich color, and I lean more toward the fair, warm cream tones. He is my boy whether or not he is dark skinned, light skinned, yellow, or red. I love his beautiful skin. He calls me his pale Queen. He also calls me demanding at times, and says “Yes, my vanilla sprinkle.” We are cookies and cream. We are icecream; a chocolate vanilla twist. We have two flavors, one love. We have one race. We have the same God. We have the same emotions. We have the same look in each other’s eyes. We’re more interesting than a cookie cutter couple stamped America, Africa, India, Germany, or France. The human species was not born with all these genes so that we would reject variety. I look at my boy and see beauty. He is not the same as me, and he’s beautiful. It isn’t interracial love. Since when are we a different race? Since when can’t a hospital help someone dark skinned but not someone fair skinned? Since when are chocolate and vanilla not both counted as flavors? I am dazzled by our differences. Beauty and love never chose only one color to bear their names.

she didn’t want much. she wasn’t after the love they show in movies and novels. she just desired a love that she knew she deserved.

Travelling isn’t always about running away from things, sometimes it’s about running into what you truly want.