patiently, i exist.

"alright, i'll come meet you at four" turns into, "okay, come here, she really wants to see you."

she would first appear to us in a sari, with her head in a tight bun, and bold black lined eyes. we would be timid children, confusing our evolution as something near the brink of adulthood. this was a mistake. she knew this, so she came in, with her handful of texts - laid it on the table. and said, "well, hello. god is dead." later, at the end of class, i will scurry up to her, with my arms wrapped around my books, and my blue v-neck, floral shirt. the one that cut down real low, (because i was on the brink of adulthood, see?). i rushed up to her, eager to ask her about every aspect of her life, and how i come to be where she was?

today, i know the answer is self love. then, i just understood the possibility had finally presented itself.

she handles most situations incredibly delicately - with a sense of patience and briskness. so, i go meet them - and we sit at a table, discussing all the questions that had been bubbling in my head at that time - that i was too fearful to ask. all my brown questions, i call them. i say, "you won't answer any of them!" she pauses, smiles, slowly nods, and says, "i'll answer them."

but before the walk - before she decides i have an issue with specifically coloured men, and before she acutely summarizes the complexity of brown skin on white skin, ("what's wrong with white men? they're just a lot of... pink flesh.") - before that, there is the flinching moment. the moment that sticks with you, and that you think about for days after.

clearly, we are, eager for "advice" - whatever that is. and there we sit - two accidentally heteronormative women, and one homosexual male. and so the two women lament over men, and this generational issue of not being able to participate in any sexual experience with men - without sacrificing some degree of intelligence. (even when we are willing). and she turns to the woman across from her and says "it's not that hard," and then turns to me and says, "but you'll have to be quite patient."

i flinched.