tagNon-EroticPlease Believe Me

Please Believe Me

bymeko©

My name is Cheyenne Davis. I must say that back in the twentieth century, I thought we would've been riding around like The Jetsons by now. But, you know what? Nothing's changed much. It's the same, but different.

In case you haven't figured it out, I'm an old woman. I celebrated my one hundredth birthday yesterday. January twenty-sixth two thousand seventy-two. It's amazing. I used to smoke cigarettes – two packs a day, but then around February two thousand one, I quit smoking. I've been nicotine-free ever since. I'm sure that contributed to the fact that I am now one hundred years old.

Actually, I didn't expect to get here though. I'm not what one would call extremely optimistic. I believe that we should live the very best we can with each day we're given, but I don't think it's a good idea to call out days and years on how long we're going to be here. Who the hell knows? Did I know I was going to be one hundred years old? Hell no!!!

The funny thing about all this is that I feel as vibrant and alive and frisky as I used to be when I was thirty years old. I'm not lying, y'all. I feel great. And as far as sex drive is concerned. Shit! Let's not go there. All I can say is that I can still give somebody a run for their money. Uh-huh, I sure can. Please believe me.

I guess by now you're wondering what I look like since I'm talkin' all this shit about my sex drive. Well, y'all remember what Eartha Kitt looked like when she was about seventy years old? That's what I look like as far as skin, body tone, and fitness. If I do say so myself, I look damn good for my age. I exercise every single day (although the exercises aren't strenuous as they used to be, mostly stretching, pilates, yoga, etc.) mind and body stuff, you know. 'Cause age is just mind over matter anyway. Sort of like smoking cigarettes. If you make yourself believe you need something poisonous to keep you calm all the time, then you will become dependent upon that particular element. And when you let go of the element (once you've convinced yourself that you don't need it to keep you calm), the withdrawals are hell on you. Please believe me.

I'm a writer. I've written only five novels, three short story collections, and two volumes of poetry and essays. (Oh, I forgot the partridge in a pear tree!) I'm just kidding. Don't pay me no mind! I get to babbling on and on much like right now. Anyway…I don't write until I feel I have something significant to say or share with others. Every single piece I've ever written has been based on me and my experiences throughout life. It's fun to write fiction. I can tell my truth and lie at the same time. It's like a drug. I get high off the fact that I'm creating something totally new and knowing that no one else can tell that story, but me. It's my story to tell, you know.

At the age of thirty-five, my first short story collection entitled Bitch did pretty well as far as sales were concerned. I did the usual traveling for the book tour. I hated that part of it. To me, it takes away the experience of people actually reading the stories. But that's just my humble opinion. I mean, I like to do record the audio books, but I don't feel like I should have to stand in front of a crowd of people and read parts of the stories to them in order to peak their interest in the story. What are the inside flaps on the book cover for anyway? Hello?

I'm sure you can tell by now the title "Bitch" for my short story collection does my personality justice to a certain degree. But I don't think it's unreasonable to question things. To question the "usual" processes of different things we're used to doing. I like to change the rules. I like to stir up things. I like to keep people guessing all the time. Life isn't very interesting if you know everything that's going to happen before it happen or if you know how a person is going to act and react to every situation. Life becomes boring when that happens. I can't stand it. I don't want to know about what's going to happen tomorrow or the day after that. All I care about is today. This moment. Right here. Right now. Perhaps, that's another reason why I'm still here after one hundred years of living. Because I don't focus the destination. I focus on the journey. Each day – one at a time.

What's the use in getting yourself all upset and pessimistic about the future when there's so much to behold in the present? It only takes away years from your life when you worry about things like that. Please believe me.

I've done everything I set out to do with my life including getting over my fear of flying. My first airplane ride went to Atlanta, Georgia for my first book signing when the "Bitch" collection came out. I thought I was going to die right there in my seat when that damn plane took off, but I didn't die. I'm still here. Like we used to say back in the nineties, it's all good.

Although, the more I think about it there is something that I never followed through on. But, it was something that I always wanted and it was on the top ten list of things to do with my life. I never finished it. I never accomplished that one goal. And I know it's too late now, but I can't help it. I think it every day. How I ran the one person away that really did love me and wanted to be with me. So…yeah…I've been single all my life. I went out on some dates and of course, on occasion, I got sex when I needed it. But, I never had the real thing. Love. Damn! It's funny how you don't realize that shit until the person is gone. I guess Joni Mitchell was right.

***

I met Blue Carmichael at an insurance company where the two of us were employed at the time. I had been there two years before she arrived. We clicked immediately. I wasn't sure if she was a lesbian and yes, I was afraid to ask. Although, I was bisexual and not entirely "out" I wasn't good at telling who was or wasn't gay, lesbian, or otherwise. To me, there's no such thing as a radar built into a person, so they can automatically tell who's who. I always figured I would have to actually talk with someone and get to know them first. Hello?

Anyway…Blue was very cute. I guess she was what people in the gay community would call "butch". Although, I hated using those labels on people. I hated them so much. I just saw a woman that I was attracted to instantly. It wasn't looks though. It was her personality – sense of humor, attitude, and overall persona just drew me to her. I never dealt with that type of attraction. For me, it usually happened at a slow pace because I was always convinced that if anyone really got a chance to get to know me, they wouldn't like me. So, I gave people a hard time. And I'm sure I ran away some good men and women before I even met Blue.

During the time that we met she was in a "serious" relationship with a woman named Michelle. They lived together at the time. I wanted her, too. However, I knew better than to push myself on her. I made it known verbally though how I felt. But, I left it at that, you know.

About one year later, Blue and Michelle broke up. But, I still didn't approach about getting together. So, I left it alone and just ignored her, which I found out later was the wrong fucking thing to do.

I think her feelings got a little hurt. Although, I can't blame her, but I didn't know how to express myself very well "out loud", which is the major reason why I write, you know. I can't verbalize my feelings worth shit. I'll be the first to admit it. Anyway…about five months after they had been apart, Blue called me one Saturday afternoon out of the blue.

"Hey," Blue's low yet whiny tone of voice came through the phone.

"What's up?"

"Have I done something to make you mad at me? You haven't been speaking to me. That's why I haven't been speaking to you."

Silence took over the conversation. I didn't know what to say in response to her question. She was right. I hadn't been speaking to her. And I already knew that's why she wasn't speaking to me. She was persistent. She wouldn't let my occasional sullen attitude discourage her from talking to me. I was impressed. She was one person I couldn't run away…at the time.

"Well," I took a deep breath trying to come up with the right words to explain my side of the story, "It's not that I didn't want to talk to you, Blue. I just know how I feel and I think it's too soon to put myself out there where you're concerned."

"What do you mean "put yourself out there"? We can be friends and stuff," her voice annoyed the fuck out of me.

"I know that, but I know me. And I know how I feel about you. You know how I feel about you. I just can't get caught up right now because you haven't been out of your relationship that long."

"It's been almost six months. Can we get together today and hang out?"

"Well, it would be nice to hang out, but I'm broke this weekend. But thanks for asking though." I smiled from ear to ear.

"If we go out on a date and I pay for it, then you don't have to worry about money. We can just go out and have a nice time. What do you say?"

"Okay…we can do that."

"You wanna go to the movies?"

"Yeah, that would be cool."

"You got a newspaper?"

Damn, she ain't prepared at all, I thought. "Hold on for a second, I'll get the paper."

"Okay," her voice, now giddy and full of cheer. At the beginning of the conversation, she was dragging her words so long and in such a sad ass tone I thought she was gonna break out in some damn tears or something. And the Lord knew I wasn't ready for that, at all. But, she didn't cry. We made our date deciding on a movie to go see.

Later on that evening, she picked me up around seven. We made a little chit-chat in the car, but very little. We talked a little in the movie, but not enough to miss anything. Actually, we didn't talk much until after the movie when we went to a little coffeehouse in our area. She stared me a lot, which is what I remember most about that date. She kept staring me like she was sizing me up. I'm almost positive that's what she was doing. She was desperately trying to get to know me without asking me any questions. I've tried that shit before and it doesn't work. No matter what, any human being thinks. YOU HAVE TO VERBALLY COMMUNICATE!!! You can't try to engage each other in that mental communication bullshit. We're intelligent beings, but not that damn intelligent. The words that comes out of people's mouths and their actions after they speak those words will tell everything you need to know. Please believe me.

Needless to say, our date was good, but I figured out a lot of shit about her. I knew that she wouldn't be able to give me what I wanted at that time, which was simply a "serious" relationship. So, eventually I let go of her and decided to not date or "hang out" with her anymore because I knew my love for her wouldn't die. It would only continue to grow more and more. Before Blue Carmichael, I never believed in love at first sight. I have to admit. The first time I met her I fell in love. I knew and still know that she was the one for me. The one I had been praying for all those years. Just because she wanted to date other people for awhile. Just because she needed time to find herself and what she wanted. Just because she actually "wanted" to get to know me and take her time with me. Just because she didn't want to jump into bed with me at the drop of a dime.

I let go. And now I know that I shouldn't have done that. I should've hung in there and remained her friend and developed the strong relationship that I knew we had the potential to have between us. But…I let go. She knew me so well. She knew that if we had sex too early that I would get caught up in emotion with her and she wasn't ready for that. I knew she wasn't ready for that either, but I wasn't thinking. I wanted her to throw caution to the wind. But she didn't and I let go.

As far as my love life goes, I spent the rest of my life…alone. Just me and my African Grey parrot named Yafia, which means beautiful in its original spelling of Yaffa. But I didn't think Yaffa would sound too good for a parrot, so I tweaked the name a bit.

She passed away around the age of eighty-five or eighty-seven years old. I miss her so much. I found out from some mutual friends during the time of her passing that she never had a committed relationship. She died all by herself. The same way I'm going to die unfortunately.

I'm sure she knows how much I loved her. And how much I still love her. Can y'all feel what I'm feeling right now? Do y'all understand how I messed up? Don't make the same mistake I made a long time ago with Blue. If there is a special someone in your life that you love and want to be with and you know they're the one for you. Whatever you gotta do within reasonable means, you need to do it. If you have to wait for awhile after they've had a break-up, then wait. If you have to learn some patience and gain some understanding, then learn and gain. You see what I'm saying people. Don't make the mistakes I made with her. Or you'll die alone. All by yourself.

Please believe me.

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