The Thug Roommate

21)Bipolar

When we were alone, Saint told me we had to leave the Jackson's home tonight. When I asked him why he didn't say anything. After Saint healed with help of their home remedies, the day went by with helping the Jackson's pick their berries, and cook dinner.

At the dinner table, there was never a dull moment. We shared laughs and stories that I'd never forget. This house gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. I wanted to be this happy, and settled.

The young girl went off to bed at 9. We all grabbed glasses and sipped wine with some slight age on it.

I watched Saint and how he sipped his wine. He pressed it gently to his lips then only took a sip. The wine was sour so that was easy to do.

Mrs. Jackson turned some music on and we all vibed to it. It was very soft. A mixture between Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, and Brian McKnight. All of which, I knew.

Anthony Hamilton- never letting go was my current favorite song. It came on.

Saint urged for a dance. I blushed while he tugged on my arm.

"Dance with the boy!" Mr. Jackson said.

I sat the wine on the counter top and stood. He took a step toward and placed a hand on my waist. He left it sitting gently there. I wrapped my arms around his neck, like poppa taught me to.

He used to teach me how to dance. Momma would say in Spanish, 'one day you'll dance with your very own husband.' Poppa would tell me to step on his feet. He twisted and twirled me around, like he did to momma.

I pressed my head on his chest. I felt some type of security with him. He was a man that wanted to get to know my mind. A mind that held worry, insecurities, and loneliness.

Oh love you're like heaven to my eyes
Each and every time I see you
Young love so powerful
It's so intoxicating
I'm all in, got my tail steady spinning
Don't know where I'm ending
I found a heart that I believe in
I found a heart that I was needing

Why was I so damn emotional? Why did I want to cry now? I have so many damn questions. Like why does Saint want me? I'm not pretty. I don't have pearly white teeth, or confidence that can kill. I had insecurities. I'm young. With barely any damn guidance. Why did he want me? I couldn't cook or look sexy 24/7.

There it was, the tears/ I was crying. Like a damn fool, I was crying at a good moment. I wasn't crying because I was happy. I was crying because I didn't feel good enough.

The song was coming to a slow stop,. Luckily, so did my sobbing. He pulled me to face him. He didn't say anything, he just looked. I pulled away from his grasp.

"To young love" said Mrs. Jackson as she cheers.

"To young love." we all say in unison as we raise our glass.

At 11 we were saying our goodbyes. Saint said we had to leave before midnight.

We gathered and hugged one another. Mrs. Jackson pulled me to the side. "Remember what I told you darling. If you want him, get him." said she. I nodded while looking at Mr. Jackson and Saint.

"I think he's a keeper." I said to her and nodded.

Saint grabbed me. We left their home. For some reason, we were running. From whom or what, I didn't know, but I ran too.

The cornfield was thick and annoying to run through.

We stopped running after our bodies were drenched in sweat.