So, today I woke up with every intention of going to New York for my cousin's baby shower, but when I looked outside at 7:55 am the sight of beautiful white dust topping my neighbor's roofs and littering the streets negated that inclination.
I laid back down, notified my family of my impending absence and called my boyfriend. Long distance pillow talk under the covers, the second best thing since sliced bread. My real want to be warmed by his presence and the routine in which I was all too familiar with, moved me to ask him would he make it out to see me. True to form, he ran off his list of things he had to do for the day and followed up with a "We'll see what happens."
Well, see what happens:
It's almost 3:00 pm and for the first time in months, I woke up this morning cooked, cleaned (quite the domestic aren't I) and planned my Saturday alone in Philadelphia, without the hopes or wants of the people and things of the place called New York.
Listening to Nas, starting my day. And it's the end of the year, and God has me right where He wanted. Where he told me to stay in January.
Home. Brewing ice tea, writing to you.
Alone, but never by myself.
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