There Will Be Love

Sometimes going is easier than staying
Sometimes staying is easier than going
And sometimes, you don’t have to choose between easy and hard because wherever you go, there will be love
~Wherever Love, Brittany K.W.

Hey Beloved,

Before we get into it, it's been a while. So, I want to begin by saying I hope you are well. I pray that you've been a recipient of divine miracles and blessings. I pray that you've been taking really good care of yourself-- your heart, your body, your spirit, your gifts...all of the things. I pray that you've been casting your cares down at every sunrise, picking up joy, love and peace every rising. I pray you've been pursuing the vision and the life you have dreamed of, and while in pursuit, I pray you've still found room to be gracious with yourself, because in spite of all of these prayers and hopes, life can still be hard. It can still break your heart. It can discourage and disappoint you. But it's up to you to keep going in spite of it all. It's up to you to not make a home of the lows, knowing you deserve and will have the life you deserve and desire.

I pray we all never lose sight of that-- that we keep pursuing the life and love of our wildest dreams. I pray that we never forget that all has to work out on our behalf-- that we never give up in our pursuit. May we find solace in knowing that all is well because it is. May we all always be loved, be loving, and be love. 

--

Westmoreland, July 2024

"May you pass me the lighter, Mel?"

Che` was sitting on a large rock at the entry way to the river that flowed through the grounds of the town she was exploring with Melody and Imani. There was something about the joy of the children jumping off the cliff into the unknown depths below the crystal blue waves that could wash away your cares, if you let it. Something about Aunt Helen selling jerked chicken, rum punch and edibles in the yellow shack at the top of the hill, while simultaneously offering watermelon, mangos and coconuts for free, made you feel like you were in heaven-- in it's simplest form.

Within minutes of arriving at the river in their ATVs, Imani entered into heaven's yellow walls through the green-painted screen door. 

"Wah gwan, baby," said Aunt Helen, as Imani entered.

Ensuring she was loud enough for Melody and Che` to hear, Imani responded, "Mi deh yah!"

"This girl wants to be Jamaican so bad." Melody laughed as she walked toward Che`, who was leaning forward swaying her free hand in the water.

"Leave my girl alone," responded Che` defending Imani's culture dreams.

Two weeks ago, she knocked on their apartment door and asked what they would be doing the second and third week of July. With Melody being able to work from home and the freedom to take days off, and Imani being on summer break, having declined working summer school, Che` offered to take the two sister-friends to Jamaica. 

Che`s paternal grandmother grew up in Clarendon, before her family moved to the United States when she was 16 years-old. But she'd never been back to her homeland, and she knew Jamaica was Imani's happy place. 

"Thank you for putting this together, Miss Che`," Melody said, as she squatted down on the rock to Che's right. "If for nothing else, our girl needed to get away."

"First, thank you for allowing me to have some of your time," Che` responded, before she used the Rastafarian colored lighter gifted to her by their tour guide. "I know you and Mr. Marcus can't breathe without each other for too long."

Melody was appalled by Che`'s wit that came out effortlessly. 

"Not true!"

"When's the last time you slept alone Miss Ma'am?"

"You know what?!" 

They bursted into a simultaneous laughter that caught Imani's attention from inside the shack.

"What happened, what'd I miss?"

Imani came down the rocky steps; the result of erosion and man-made sculpting.

"Not a thing," responded Che`. "I was just over here thanking Mel for giving up some of her Marcus time to come on the trip."

Imani almost choked on the haze that she was in the process of inhaling. 

"It's not that funny," Melody said, rolling her eyes at Imani.

"You're right; it's hilarious," Imani wasted no time correcting her. "I haven't had to cook in over a year because mom and dad keep food on the stove."

"And I oop," Che` turned her back, sipping on the fresh coconut water Imani brought to her from Aunt Helen.

"Mani, I'm going to throw this shoe at you! You bett..."

Before she could finish her sentence, Marcus's name popped up on her phone, and Aunt Helen was calling from the kitchen.

 

"Baby gyal, the food done cook."

"You're so lucky, but we see that name, gyal friend" Imani teased, while raising herself up to go get her jerked chicken, mangos and Red Stripe. "Gwan go ansa yuh man."

"Imani, if you don't get yourself on," Mel chuckled, flicking water Imani's way as she walked off.

She turned to see Che` staring off in the distance. 

"You alright?"

"I'm better than alright," Che` responded, gently placing her head over her shoulder to look at Melody. "I'm just in awe of this moment and grateful that God chose me to love on you both in this season of your lives. Loving you both and watching you both grow in and be taught by love has healed me in ways you don't even know."

"We've helped you heal?! Do you know what you have done for us?" Melody's hand rested on the heart that Che` held together through breakups, breakthroughs and fearful walks in love. "Do you know what this trip is doing for Mani right now?"

--

Bedford Stuyvesant, July 2024

On the morning of their 7:50 am flight to Sangster International Airport in Montego Bay, Imani had felt for the love  she went to bed to and expected to wake up to. After a few seconds, she realized the silhouette that was her home wasn't there. She felt the side of her bed, searching for the switch to turn on her bedside sunset lamp, before sitting up to make sense of the present difference. On the other side of the bed was a letter from the love she had come to know. Instead of a kiss on the forehead like she was used to at the sound of her alarm, she found italicized-like handwriting, forming a note on a custom sage green index card. Her favorite color.

I didn't know how to tell you this, but I got accepted into a culinary fellowship program in Kenya. I leave today, too. I'm grateful for all you've done for me in the last two months. I just didn't want to break your heart. And I know I'd never be able to love you right. You deserve better. ~The One Scared to Love and Be Loved by You

She grabbed it, before walking into the living room, where Melody was doing some last minute packing. 

"This was left on my bed, but I'm going to get myself together first," Imani said to Melody, before giving her permission to read the note.

"You don't do that to people," Imani said carrying the weight of her tears in the levees of her lower lids, pacing the living room floor of their earth tone painted brownstone. "You don't just discard of people like that-- you don't leave people to be broken without explanation.

"You don't initiate experiences with people, then run because you're scared you'll drown in the depths of them. We are grown... communicate! What is wrong with people?!"

She collapsed into the couch, massaging her temples, as her elbows rest atop her knees. 

"It's lack of emotional maturity and responsibility," said Melody, who was packing their polaroid into her carry-on duffle bag. "And it's grueling because innocent people get hurt in the crossfire."

"You can do everything right, and still, they will run-- still, they will hurt you. Disappointing."

"Extremely disappointing, but don't you let this harden your heart. Keep giving love a try."

"Marcus got my girl out here being love's advocate," Imani chuckled while tears simultaneously streamed down her face. "Paging Dr. Love."

Melody looked up to chastise her sister-friend, only to realize the tears had come. 

Imani didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. She was a really private lover, but a heartfelt lover. Spending over a year in solitude, she finally let someone in. No rush to commitment, just an agreement to allow love to flow. And just like that, it had slipped out of her grip.

Knowing she hated hugs when she was most vulnerable, Melody offered to make her infamous avocado toast, while Imani got herself together. 

"Well, if that's not the best pick me-up, I don't know what is," Imani replied. "Absolutely, and I'm thinking pre-airport mimosas."

"Duh! I'll go knock on Miss Che's door to see if she's down."

Once she heard the door close, Imani used the deafening silence as the hands to hold her screams and cradle her as she cried in the corner of the living room, alongside the women pictured in gold frames above the fireplace-- her grandmother Alice, Aunt Ngozi and godmother Helena.

When she heard the apartment door open and the tussling of Che's suitcases in the hallway, Imani wiped the remnants of an emotional hurricane from her high rising cheekbones, and walked to the bathroom, where she washed her face, before massaging a mixture of jojoba and vitamin E oil with Black Girl Sunscreen into her freckled melanin cheeks, to lighten the dullness that results from disappointment. 

She looked at herself in the mirror before coming to the realization that she had cried before she could even brush her teeth.

"What a damn joke?"

Being a stickler for multi-tasking, she walked to her room to grab her phone so she could check-in on the JetBlue app before arriving to the airport. Before she could walk into her room, her phone rang, but the call disconnected before she could get to it. A text tone followed. A voice note notification. 

My Person: [4:26 a.m]

I hope you have a safe flight. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I'd love to talk when you return. I was overwhelmed by how deep things seemed to be going, and I took the first escape out, opposed to just talking to you. But now that I've committed to it, I have to follow through. I'll be back soon. Maybe then, I'll be ready, but I never meant to hurt you. 

"An absolute joke. Jamaica me, puhlease!""

--

Westmoreland, July 2024

When they looked up, Imani was being spun around in a circle by their tour guide, Prince, as they sang along to one of her favorite songs, with Prince singing the ad libs.

"So I'm leaving."

 "I'm leaving, yes I am." 

"This time I'm playing it smart. I'm going to walk away from love."

 

"Walk away from love."

"Before love... Breaks my heart!"

"Weh yuh kno bout da song deh?"

Prince was surprised by the ebony goddess before him whom was from a land he never touched foot upon.

"It's one of my favorites, and is my whole life right now."

"Smaddy bruck yuh heart?"

Throughout the excursion, she envied and admired the ease in his ability to transition between his native dialect and hers, but she admired him even more when he spoke in his own.

"Broke it? No. Mishandled it? Suh fi true. But we live to see another day and find love again."

She was staring into the mountains beyond the landscape surrounding the river, while he stared at her.

"Strong gyal."

"Lover gyal."

When she turned around, Prince was holding out his Red Stripe beer midair, waiting for Imani to notice him. Chuckling from embarrassment, she held up her own to cheers with the handsome man who looked directly into her eyes, as if he was reading the story she wasn't telling beyond the surface.

"So what are we cheering to," she asked in a soft intensity, as if whispering for only him and her to hear.

"To the lover gyal," he whispered back.

--

So Beloved, I hope that, in the time since we've last entered this space, you've heightened your discernment. I hope that you stopped accepting mistreatment. I hope that you realized that, while loving someone is beautiful, it is not enough to justify you staying in spaces that don't honor you, or allowing people to come in and out of your world based on their feelings alone. Yours matter too. 

You deserve to be handled with care-- even in transitional phases. You deserve to have experiences with people who won't disappoint you. You deserve to be in community and communion with people who see you and love you. You deserve to put the weight down and let love in, again. And when it returns, I pray that it is healing and beautiful. 

Talk to you soon. xo- BrittanyK.W.🌹