Soldier of Love

What's Done in the Dark, Comes to the Light

I locked my car doors and walked up the concrete driveway that led up to Fatou’s Arabian decorated three story house. It’s pretty self-explanatory that the home was that of an Arabian heritage. It sat at the top of a small round hill, much like most of the houses here in Beverly Hills Chicago.

Unlike some of the homes in Ashburn, where my family resides, these houses were huge. They ranged from 3-5 stories and 3-6 bedrooms. These rooms weren’t small either, in fact they were quite spacey. I’m sure you’d be able to fit two classrooms inside of each room… or maybe I’m just over exaggerating.

After a two minute walk up that long ass hill, I was finally approaching the five steps that led up to her dark red door. I walked up the small concrete steps and rang the doorbell which rang in a soft ding. A heard a little shuffling, but afterwards, Mrs. Diaz appeared.

            “Marhaba!” She said in a cheerful tone. “Hello! Fatou isn’t here yet. She ran out. She shall be back soon, though. Would you like to come in?”

            “Oh, no.” I said smiling shyly. “I’ll just wait out here on the patio.”

Mrs. Diaz nodded and closed the door. I took a seat on the two seating swing and swung a little. The early August wind flew around me and my fishtail moved around in the wind.

Moments like these are when I sit back and observe. I take in everything and just think. I think about whats currently going on, whats happened, and whats possibly going to happen.

I have an active mind 24/7. Im easily distracted and sometimes I stop speaking in mid-sentence. Any and everything can catch my attention.

Sometimes I like to sit and think and plan out my future. Right now, my future looks really bright. I’m a college student at UCLA with writing as my major and music as my minor. I’ve got thousands of dollars saved up. Breezy is getting drafted in California which means she’ll be close by and my relationship is pretty good. The only problem is the awkward after my graduation.

Ever since I stopped our moment that I initiated, Daniel has barely touched me. He kisses me and all, but not too much. He stops before things escalate, almost as if he knew what was going on inside of my mind.

And of course, I blame myself. Jacob is in the way of my sexual happiness. I can’t get him out my head. It’s been a damn year and everywhere I go, there’s a reminder of him. Partially, because we have so many memories, but still. I appreciate Daniel for putting up with this and bearing with me, but he deserves better. He deserves someone who’s not strung up on their ex a year later.

But the truth of the matter is that I’m still a little scared.

I gave Jacob all of me, all of my love and all he made was broken promises.

Not all men are the same, but my heart hasn’t healed.

I miss Jacob.

I love Jacob.

No, I’m still in love with Jacob.

He makes me so depressed and confused outside of everything else in my life, that I even wrote a song about it. Yeah, that’s how lost and confused I get when it comes to him. Not only did I write him a song, but after we broke up, I wrote this long ass letter dedicated to him. That was the only way I could express my feelings. And maybe one day I’ll send it to him, but for now, I’ll save myself the embarrassment because I know for sure all he’d do is laugh at it. He probably wouldn’t even read it. Just shred it up into pieces.

"Do you know how dumb you look sitting out here staring out into space?"

"Shut up, Fatou!" I said laughing, without even looking up