بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

So, after graduation from Pasteur, which was horrible because my mom wouldn’t let me celebrate with my friends, who were allegedly with N.E., if I remember correctly.

I had to go out to dinner with “them.” (My family) I cried. I hated/hate my mother.

I wrote that in my diary B.I.T.D. and my father read it and left her. I hate him too. I almost wish they had never hooked up. :/

I am the result of the only pregnancy they planned, so something of good came out of them. Allah is THE BEST PLANNER.

Anyway, I was also upset because ALL of my friends were going to Hamilton High. That’s where I wanted to go soooooooooooo badly. 😥 But I had to go to L.A. I didn’t know ANYBODY who was going there. 😥

But on the first day, I saw some familiar faces.

One of these faces, was this Sister who was in the same Fourth Grade class with me and my Habibi ❤ at Trinity.

We were walking near the rear gate at my school and I saw a Brother. I don’t know what it was about him, but I was immediately intrigued.

I asked Stephanie something I have NEVER asked about any Brother before or since, WHO IS THAT?

She casually replied, “Oh, THAT’S A.J.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize my Honey-Stick! But, I was thinking, “A.J.!?! Hmmph! He Must Think He’s All That.” At Trinity, he was Jamal. I guess he grew up and got cool.

Anyway, we hooked up, of course and became inseparable once more.

 We understand each other like other people will NEVER understand us. When our classmates ripped us apart they called us “LOONEY TUNES” We both love music. I don’t know about the Looney. But, probably to them.

We enjoy things that, it seemed, only certain people (certainly, no one we knew) enjoy together. He gets me and I understand him better than anyone else. I LOVE YOU, HABIBI! ❤ ❤ ❤ 😀

When other people made fun of us individually, we had each other. They used to try and belittle him, in front of me all the time (still do) in a useless attempt to make me stop LOVING HIM. Crumbs. NEVER. GONNA. HAPPEN.

Years later, one night at the club, he was standing near me and my so-called friends. This one was cracking on his suit so badly. I felt sorry for him. But he just acted like he didn’t even hear her. He was just watching the dance group working it out on stage. ( “THE ❤ POSSE” ) So, everybody’s watching the group and my “friend” is continually talking about my Honey-Stick, when next thing we know, he leaps onto the stage, which had to be at least four feet high and finishes the routine with the group – THE STAR OF THE SHOW!!!

(PISSED – NO RAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
(W T F WERE YOU THINKING???!!!!!!!!)

EVERYBODY WAS DUMBSTRUCK, ESPECIALLY MY “FRIEND.” I don’t see how you can still befriend her, Habibi. I blocked her a long time ago. But, I have never been more awestruck in my life! I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t there!

 He is a little older than I am. That’s really no excuse. I never knew that Brothers could be hurt from love. That’s no excuse. It’s true. But it’s no excuse, Sir.

I was fourteen in September, 1985. Only six (6) years after we first met. Seems like much longer. But there we were meeting again for the second time. He was “A.J.” now.

When you’re a teenager, you don’t really take the time to analyze things. Things just happen. You don’t think about why and what could be the result.

I had a journal, of course. I had kept one since I met him and our teacher (Mrs. Bacon, can you believe that? :/ I was shocked to learn there was a Mr. Bacon too) introduced us to composition books. I think I’ve owned one ever since. I have a chartreuse one now. 😀

 I hate when people tell me “No.” or “You’re not supposed to” or “You can’t do” something. I think a little bit more than ordinary people. So, I’m a rebel with a cause but without a pause.

I remember, one day we were on the stairs in this corner of the school that nobody uses.

I didn’t even know they were there. So we could isolate and listen to this little red radio we got from one of my “friends.”

Music has always been a part of our lives. In fourth grade I would write down the lyrics (I don’t know if I used to print them or write in cursive. I guess after I learned how to write in cursive I wrote them in cursive 😀 ) to the Love Songs we had the sheet music to.

I stared taking piano lessons when I was seven (7) but my mom would allow us to go to the music store and buy sheet music for R&B songs as an alternative to the classical. If I had had the notion I would have bought some Ellington.

I saw some of his sheet music for the first time about a month ago and it blew my mind! I didn’t want to stop playing. I had never seen any music written like that in my life. #nowimonamission 😀

So, we were on the stairs (supposed to be in class 😉 I don’t know why everything that’s supposed to be wrong is so RIGHT when we’re together. EVERYTHING!) listening to Patti and Michael. I HATED that song! Now, I know why. Interracial relationships are shameful!

I’m pretty sure this was after I allowed him to be the first man to kiss me. So, there was probably some making out on those stairs. But I had never been more at ease. My Habibi just makes everything right and exact.

So, when this teacher came ambling down the hall towards us, we didn’t even pay him any attention, I didn’t anyway. Until he said those dreaded three words:

“Go To Class.”

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