UNRAVELING AMAYA.

1

I studied love. It's like diving into a sea of emotions, exploring its depths and currents. And you know what I found? Black love.

As a child, I remember admiring the way my parents looked at each other, the tenderness in their embrace, the laughs that filled our home. My dad was never shy when it came to loving my mother—It was similar to the way Kenny swooned over Maxine in Soul Food.

And then there were the black romance novels I devoured like candy, each page filled with passion, longing, and hope. They transported me to a world where love knew no bounds, where every obstacle was just a stepping stone on the path to happily ever after.

In public, I admired black couples holding hands, stealing glances, sharing inside jokes. It was like watching my favorite scenes play out in real life, a reminder that love is all around us, waiting to be embraced.

But as I grew older, I realized that love isn't always a fairytale. I saw the troubles, the hurt and all of the ugly that came with love. I saw my parents split, I saw Quincy leave Monica before he went pro, I saw Harper's lies nearly cost him Robyn, and I saw Jason's past almost destroy both him and Lyric.

Sometimes, it feels like maybe love is just a cruel joke, a game we're all destined to lose. Maybe there's no such thing as happily ever after, just moments of fleeting happiness before reality comes crashing down.

But then again, maybe, just maybe, there's still a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark of light in the darkness. And maybe, just maybe, love is worth fighting for, even when it feels like all hope is lost.

Girl, you are so fine.

I wish that I could get you over here, girl

Tonight, so I

Could get my grown man on with you

The weekend was finally here.

I sang along to Lil Wayne, already feeling lighter. This meant no Rhonda, no errands, no demanding texts. Nothing. Just rest and relaxation(for the most part).

I sported my off day attire—a satin pajama set with my hair still in the rollers from last night. Since I was aimlessly shuffling through my apartment, I figured I'd do some cleaning too. My loft was just 2 bedrooms so it wasn't much to clean, except for Adrian's room. It wasn't exactly his room but whenever he was around, he'd sleep there.

I guess it didn't matter the age, all boys were rank as hell. I couldn't believe the amount of chip bags, soda cans and marijuana roaches scattered across the room. At a grown ass 26, he still didn't understand the concept of a trash can.

I spent the day looking over Rhonda's emails and making sure I had her weekend scheduled accordingly—despite the weekend being my time to rest and reboot, I was still on call. It wasn't easy being an assistant; Rhonda was a high profile woman for many reasons and was always being tugged in every direction, meaning I was getting tugged right along with her.

A knock peeled me away from my laptop.

I didn't see anyone standing at the door so I slowly opened it. I was met with two bouquets of roses, an edible arrangement and gift box sitting on my 'Welcome' mat. I raised my eyebrows and reluctantly brought them inside. "How cute." I chuckled. I found notes in both of the bouquets. The first one read, 'My "I do" would not be the same without you. Be my bridesmaid?' I smiled, opening the box; inside was a miniature potted succulent, a bottle of Moët, a custom bridesmaid robe and a small photo album. My bestfriend, Cordelia, was getting married and it was very on brand for her to be this extra.