My affair with Alima started in an odd way. Heartbroken from my split with Camry, I was seeking solace in D'ware. To be frank, I had contemplated moving on to something new and the crazy thing was that a few hours before my trip to D'ware, I had almost committed myself to another. I guess life had other plans for me. I first laid eyes on Alima in Delaware...there was something different about her. Her picture was captivating, you could see the hurt tattooed on her body, hinting to a previous violent relationship. But through the hurt, she still held her head up high, and it was impossible to ignore the class and self esteem.
'Nike was the "go-to-guy". He set up the meeting, the introduction and basically made all the moves. Itz hard to tell if he fell for Alima while he was on his mission or not, some truths are better not told i guess. Either way, August was the key month, by then desperation had set in and I was exposed. She was a source of warmth when I needed it most. Every man has to take care of his lady, so I am proud to say I did spend a good sum in making her forget her past. The pride on my face after her makeover is something I'll never have the opportunity to describe... Sleek and feline, smooth and well-curved...twas impossible not to fall for her each time she smiled at me.
To be sincere, I never knew she was African! Itz funny how you spend so much time with someone and you never realize where they are from! I always thot she was Asian! Don't ask me how I got that all mixed up. She did bring it to my attention while we were in Ottawa. Riding to Ottawa with her was bliss, singing along to music and breathing in the clean air...beautiful... Looking back at my past relationships and the trail of hearts behind, I can only pray that this one lasts a little longer than the others...Fingers crossed!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The morning air feels pristine, garnished with the aroma of fresh pastries and freshly brewed coffee, sublime european flavour. The chill factor is incredible, purges the senses and leaves him with a clear head to think. Walking down the clean streets, snug beneath the layers of sweaters and scarves, a mumbled "bonjour" escapes his lips in greeting as he crosses path with the early morning crawlers...
The national museum is beautiful...there are no other words to describe it. Standing beneath the huge paintings, u can gradually feel the hands of time grind to a halt, and slowly u r catapulted back in to the past, till u can taste the texture of the canvas in ur senses...with my eyes closed, I could picture my scarves and sweaters slowly turning into robes...soft words whispering in the air in different languages...
Climbed to the peak of the hill...glanced down @ the city sprawled beneath me...crazy view! With my arms spread aloft, itz easy to feel weightless...the tune in my head is from "Lark Ascending"...enchanting, like a ballerina floating up to the peak of Rio...C'est la vie! The wind drags u back to reality...mercilessly, it vacuums the illusions from my head...till I am left with a gaping hole again...Ottawa