Sade's Return

IX

  The week went by pretty fast. Jack and I go to the local cafe every day for lunch. We sit at the same spot in a little corner in the back where the avant-garde paintings are hung and the tables are customized with mod podge newspaper clippings. I order the same every day, chai tea latte with almond milk and he goes for the straight-up small black coffee. I get a blt on rye and the same for him. While enjoying lunch we have captivating conversations along with the occasional comfortable silence. This only increases my attraction to him. In the back of my mind, I think about my date with Ronny and how I want to break it. I'm definitely going to visit his place tonight. Jack breaks my chain of thoughts and asks if I'm ready to go back. I just nod my head and we're up and out of the cafe.

We cross the extremely busy street that seems to have a never-ending flood of pedestrians, can't help but feel bad for the people driving their cars. As we continue to walk the block to the Art Factory, I'm light on my feet, honestly, I feel unrestricted. I don't feel the pressure of this society and that's helping me feel better emotionally. It should also get my creative juices going.

  All a sudden he pulls me in for a hug I hug him right back. We're in each other's embrace and it feels so right. Just silently we're still as if this chaotic word isn't happening around us. "I like you, Sade," he murmurs. "You are the only woman I've met to have a soul so free it makes the time I spend with you the only part of my day I can relax," he says with the utmost sincerity.

  "I like you too, Jack" that's all I can manage to say. But my expression must speak volumes because we're both just staring at each other like a couple of idiots. He pulls away from me reluctantly before we walk in "So today I can't give you a ride. Will you be okay?" He asks.

  "Of course I survived without you before, I'm sure I can take care of myself when you're not around"

  "That's not what I meant, Sade. I know you can take care of yourself. You know that." He explains.

  "I know, I know I'm sorry that I took your words out of context."

  I go back to my class and the class is full today. The new teacher is here today. She has bright red curly hair, wears a tight leopard print dress with red stilettos and gold hoop earrings. She looks to be in her 60s. She definitely turns heads. "Hey is there any assistance I can offer you?" She asks.

  I smile. "Well, I'm stuck."

"Stuck?"

  I laugh. "Yes, stuck. I can't figure out what to create. I'm just sketching random objects until I come up with something."

  Tucking a strand behind her ear. "What I would do is take a look at my daily activities. Maybe something will pop up from there. Looking at objects is too one dimensional. It contains no emotion. Life involves more observation, more interpretation of things with your own emotions." She advises me.

  I'm excited. I must say that I neglected to see things that way. I've been in a bubble these past few weeks. I nod my head. "Oh my gosh thank you for your advice. You don't know how much I need it." I get up and hug her. I'm sorry I didn't mean to invade your personal space.

  "No no that's fine I wasn't expecting it that's all," she says as she laughs. "Okay, then I'll let you get back to work."

  I lean back on my chair and tap my sketchbook with my pencil. I start sketching things that just come up. For now, I just sketch my mother. I haven't seen her since I left the hospital. I really wanted to surprise her when I got my life on an even keel. When my meds are stabilized, I have my apartment decorated, and I exhibit my first piece of work. Now I feel overwhelmed. I need to breathe. I get up to gather my stuff and tell the class to have a nice weekend because I won't be in on Friday.  I leave the class and go to the vending machine to get a bottle of water and take a Xanax. 'Sigh' It's time to get out of here.

  I walk to the bus stop and see that it's crowded. As per usual. The sign is rusty and close to falling off. No bench. I guess we're not worthy enough for one. I feel bad for the pregnant lady. But we do have an ashtray. There's a community of bums gathered around it and smoking. Maybe they want to cut down the population or something. I need to stop over analyzing everything. The bus is here already and it's full. Everybody pushes each other to get on they even push the pregnant lady. An old man with a pushcart is standing in the back with his jaw on the floor watching this. I can't help but shake my head. Finally, people are on. By on I mean standing and practically crushing the person next to them.

  I'm at my apartment stinking of cheap cologne and cigarettes. I haven't even been to the club. 'Ugh,' I'm in a serious need of a shower. I take a frozen burrito, put it in the microwave to warm it up, and go take a shower. While I was in the shower I guess I received a text. While I'm wearing my fluffy robe and eating my burrito I read the text:

Mom: honey call me ❤️ya

Me: okay in a lil bit eating a burrito

Mom: okay

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