Photo: tinybuddha.com

Airbnb Chronicles, Day 2: Not Saying Goodbye is Much Easier than Saying Hello

So, my friend, the Black girl who is an actress and actually well-settled with her hubby in San Francisco announced that she was leaving the following morning. I had just returned to my quarters the evening after we met.

She was supposed to sign up with a talent manager earlier that afternoon, and she did. I was scheduled to work out and then head to Starbucks for a caffeine-filled day of literary mayhem — and I succeeded.

The house was expectedly full when I got back, and as I approached my door, I was once again bleakly contemplating whether or not the bunk beads I had left empty — were now embodied with a new crop of bodies.

Sweet relief!

As the door opened, my fears were assuaged. It was just her. And she was surrounded by her things which wasn’t unusual — except they seemed to be primed for evacuation.

She was leaving.

When she briefly left the room to run last minute errands — I found myself glued to my bunk bed. I have always scoffed at the idea of selling your soul to the societal requirements of being ceremoniously bound to a man for better or worse — because I reject the notion that it is the only way to feel like a complete woman.

Bullshit! It’s because I can’t find anyone crazy enough to have me. Or maybe it’s the other way round?

After enduring three years of financial strife and worrisome future projections — I have to admit that having that support system from an able-bodied male — would’ve been a most appreciated respite.

She was beautiful and talented. I feel like I can easily fall into that category except beauty and talent aren’t measured equally in the eyes of those who judge. She was drawn to me from the beginning and assumed I was an actress — so I guess that proves that we aren’t at all that different.

I was jealous of her life that appeared to balance out quite well. She was pursuing her dreams of being an actress in Hollywood, and she had a husband who supported her efforts by providing the stable foundation away from the chaotic energy of her weekly abode.

She returned sooner than I thought she would and I snapped back to social mode.

I casually mentioned how bummed I was that she was leaving — and she seemed touched by my admission. She asked if I was on Facebook and I proudly declared that I was inactive. She offered Instagram and I readily accepted.

I took a quick shower and returned to the room to find her immersed in the offerings of her multi-purpose gadget. I began to prepare for the night. I wasn’t tired. I was down for anything Netflix could toss my way.

I prayed that there would be very little disruption — due to the spotty Wifi services and for once — my wish was granted. I needed something bold and new. I refused to give into the vices of alcoholic temperance — so, I definitely needed a form of entertainment that was strong enough to remove me from the tendencies of self-loathing.

Stranger Things more than measured up to the hopes and dreams of a girl who is a woman but still thriving as a girl.

The sci-fi drama starring 90’s instituted ingenue — Winona Ryder — is insanely good. In fact, it’s brilliant beyond measure.

Aside from the potent homage to the 80’s which will always get my attention — the music is stellar. It’s the only show that gets me riled up every time the opening credits dominate the screen.

After four episodes — I was out.

I woke up multiple times throughout the morning. I knew when she left. I pretended to be asleep throughout her process. I hate goodbyes and after she admitted that she would most likely choose a better place to lay her head the next time around — I understood that I would never see her again.

It was easy to not say goodbye — but that victory only enhanced how much harder it would be to say hello to the new occupants.

He spoke and I listened.

The poem I wrote while riding a bus on a morning that began wrong and recalled all the reasons why I choose to live despite the ones who chose to die — garnered over 25K views and set me on a path that I still adhere to — with disciplined fervor.

Medium made me understand the power in staying true and consistent — even when the chips become oversized. I was reminded that there is hope — even in the midst of dangerous confusion.

The rays of the sun forced me out of bed and I began the regimen of the day.

Whatever I find won’t ruin me. That’s the choice you make when the odds are waiting to be stacked by you.

Saying hello won’t hurt quite as much as I feared. I’m in control. Now.

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