Chapter 1
“I never really prepared for our winter, because I held onto our summer.”
— Keilah
When Keilah’s mom told her André called, she smiled. She knew André missed her because she missed him too. No matter what, or who, he was doing, she always felt she was his heart. In the back of her mind, she always knew she would forever be a “special one” and never “the one.” Her heart reluctantly lagged behind; dragging bags of memories, making getting over him difficult, like one emotional hurdle after the next. She was reluctant to return his call. Time passed and she was able to put her feelings in check, even though she knew, deep down past the apathy, the anger, and the hurt, love still endured. He seemed insistent on seeing her, and she was curious. Did he miss her? Did André finally want to share how he had been a fool all this time and beg her to come back to him? Ha!
As Keilah sat across from André, she heard nothing but the three words he casually slipped into the conversation. The clatter of dishes and the chatter at nearby tables were barely audible. Keilah’s concerns about the little pimple, which formed along her right temple, seemed minuscule. Even her weight gain was of no importance at the dropping of those three words.
Breathe, Keilah, breathe.
Keilah learned to hide her emotions. Through the years, it had become something of an art form. She quickly learned how to pull lipstick from her purse when she felt her bottom lip quiver, gliding a fresh coat of paint across a false grin. The stiffening of her jaw line could easily be camouflaged by resting it casually within the palm of her hand, while she averted attention to something else in the room. Yes, awkward moments brought out the actor in her.
Yes, that is what the hell he said. Get it together.
Keilah played repeatedly in her mind, how she’d run her lines, the gestures, the movements . . . this one moment she unwillingly prepared for. The one thing she didn’t factor was overwhelming her, the solitary tear. One monumental tear, burning the more she tried to hold it back, was building up in the well of her left eye. There is nothing capable of holding back that type of tear. Unlike actual crying, where each tear has its own specific emotion to attend to, a single tear must do the job of a million tears and contain every emotion within itself. As she sat across from André, absorbing the shocking news, she felt like she was trying to hold back a tsunami. That one salty tear was filled with so many powerful emotions—shock, hurt, anger, surprise, mourning, hate, jealousy, envy, and remorse.
After all those emotions built up that one tear, love ran from the back, thrusting through emotional commotion and desired nothing more than to submerge itself deep within that one solitary tear. Aligning itself on the rim of her left eye, love took hurt and anger by the hand and dove in. Hoping to be overwhelmed by hurt and anger, love rode the wave from the corner of her left eye, sliding quietly down her cheek, only to be caught by a napkin and tucked away for later. Hate laughed because love wanted to drown and die—surprise and shock looked on, wondering what was next. Jealousy and envy joined hate and mocked love. Remorse sat close by and wept. Mourning hugged love tightly and whispered, “You know you can’t die.” Love pushed through and she hated it. She heard those three words clearly. “I’m getting married.”
André had found her.
“I never really prepared for our winter, because I held onto our summer.”
— Keilah
When Keilah’s mom told her André called, she smiled. She knew André missed her because she missed him too. No matter what, or who, he was doing, she always felt she was his heart. In the back of her mind, she always knew she would forever be a “special one” and never “the one.” Her heart reluctantly lagged behind; dragging bags of memories, making getting over him difficult, like one emotional hurdle after the next. She was reluctant to return his call. Time passed and she was able to put her feelings in check, even though she knew, deep down past the apathy, the anger, and the hurt, love still endured. He seemed insistent on seeing her, and she was curious. Did he miss her? Did André finally want to share how he had been a fool all this time and beg her to come back to him? Ha!
As Keilah sat across from André, she heard nothing but the three words he casually slipped into the conversation. The clatter of dishes and the chatter at nearby tables were barely audible. Keilah’s concerns about the little pimple, which formed along her right temple, seemed minuscule. Even her weight gain was of no importance at the dropping of those three words.
Breathe, Keilah, breathe.
Keilah learned to hide her emotions. Through the years, it had become something of an art form. She quickly learned how to pull lipstick from her purse when she felt her bottom lip quiver, gliding a fresh coat of paint across a false grin. The stiffening of her jaw line could easily be camouflaged by resting it casually within the palm of her hand, while she averted attention to something else in the room. Yes, awkward moments brought out the actor in her.
Yes, that is what the hell he said. Get it together.
Keilah played repeatedly in her mind, how she’d run her lines, the gestures, the movements . . . this one moment she unwillingly prepared for. The one thing she didn’t factor was overwhelming her, the solitary tear. One monumental tear, burning the more she tried to hold it back, was building up in the well of her left eye. There is nothing capable of holding back that type of tear. Unlike actual crying, where each tear has its own specific emotion to attend to, a single tear must do the job of a million tears and contain every emotion within itself. As she sat across from André, absorbing the shocking news, she felt like she was trying to hold back a tsunami. That one salty tear was filled with so many powerful emotions—shock, hurt, anger, surprise, mourning, hate, jealousy, envy, and remorse.
After all those emotions built up that one tear, love ran from the back, thrusting through emotional commotion and desired nothing more than to submerge itself deep within that one solitary tear. Aligning itself on the rim of her left eye, love took hurt and anger by the hand and dove in. Hoping to be overwhelmed by hurt and anger, love rode the wave from the corner of her left eye, sliding quietly down her cheek, only to be caught by a napkin and tucked away for later. Hate laughed because love wanted to drown and die—surprise and shock looked on, wondering what was next. Jealousy and envy joined hate and mocked love. Remorse sat close by and wept. Mourning hugged love tightly and whispered, “You know you can’t die.” Love pushed through and she hated it. She heard those three words clearly. “I’m getting married.”
André had found her.
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Kenda
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