Sunday, April 10, 2005

It's Like Water

Early Friday morning I found myself drenched. At 2:00AM after two and a half hours of conversation with Fresh Rain I was lying in my bed soaked with the satisfaction of hearing him whisper the words “good night.” His was the last voice I heard before I went to sleep and mine was the last sound he heard before he too drifted off to Slumber Land.

I met Fresh Rain two weeks ago today standing outside a club here in DC. I was eagerly waiting on Mr. Kane to finish a conversation with some random guy so that we could rush to the car and make ourselves ghost. At that moment a more friendly spirit placed himself in front of me. Around my height, a little thicker than me, a dark chocolate man with milky white teeth asked me a question. Immediately I answered – for there is no question I seem not to have an answer to. He smiled, I talked, he listened, I flirted, he talked, I listened and we exchanged numbers. For the next several days we exchanged phone calls, a game of phone tag that lasted until the following Friday.

When we finally were able to connect the conversation was pleasant. Our conversation flowed naturally. There were no awkward pauses or moments of silence. Topics seemed to flow like water down a stream, effortlessly and cool. I found myself interested in him and he repeated many a time that I was intriguing. Personal backgrounds, education, hobbies, interests, travel, past loves, fear of leaving comfort zones and we even broached the topic of comfort level with self. I could hear Lauryn Hill on that guitar plucking and singing, “It’s like water and I ain’t felt this way in years.”

When that initial conversation closed I was confident that we would speak again. Days went by and another game of phone tag and busy schedules precluded us from speaking again until Thursday night that took us into Friday morning. That second phone encounter was longer and even more engaging than the first. This man seemed so genuine and careful in his nature. He wasn’t rough around the edges nor was he a smooth operator. He just was. He was a man with a gentle voice and hearty laugh. He was a man with an open mind. I was growing more and more captivated with him. I hadn’t felt this way about anyone since I had first met Langston.

It’s like water and I felt this way in years.

The more I learned about Fresh Rain the more I wanted to know. What also made him attractive is that he wanted learn more and more about me. He was not afraid to answer my pensive and probing questions, as many are, and he wasn’t afraid to ask me questions. Moreover, I could expound on my thoughts and not be afraid I’d lose him to disinterest or wayward thinking. Even when we talked about my philosophy of life as a relay race he listened and absorbed, walking away with an understanding of how at times I see myself and others and the world around me.

Fresh Rain and I made tentative plans to go to brunch this afternoon. I called him last night to confirm and he informed me that he’d have to reschedule. I expressed my disappointment and sad to say I lamented over the phone with him. But he suggested we meet for cocktails as early as both our schedules permit. So rather than brunch today with Fresh Rain I enjoyed a beautiful spring day in the District doing other things I love to do though I was alone. I took a walk and talked to my neighbors. I visited my shoe shine man at Nordstrom’s who I hadn’t seen in a while. I finished reading a book. I helped a fraternity brother out by arranging a speaker to come to his class to speak. I napped. I enjoyed an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and strawberry ice cream. I danced to a great song in my apartment all alone just because I felt like it and ‘my song was on.’ I didn’t have Fresh Rain today, but I won’t knock my sunny day. Maybe, it’s a sign I will be able to enjoy the shower when it truly comes.