Farewell 2015

In 2016 the man that I love will bring me a book instead of flowers for our first date (I won’t be able to stop smiling during dinner just thinking about this). We’ll get to know each other in coffee shops and independent bookstores about the town. He will tell me about his favorite books, and how he keeps a small jar of Oil of Olay in his medicine cabinet because the smell reminds him of his mother, and the thing that happened under the blacktop that he’s never told anyone before. And I’ll tell him about my best friends and the thing that wakes me up at 2:30 am every night, and how the scar that looks like blood splatter on my right knee came to be.

And though I’ll try my best to look nonchalant when he finally introduces me to his book collection, I will be particularly impressed with his selection (especially the Jane Austen and social justice works). In May, when he grabs my hands excitedly, pulls me close, and asks “Have you read this Tanehesi Coates article yet?” good (PG-13) things will happen for everybody.

After we’ve spent no less than 3 months discussing James Cone and Black Liberation Theology, he’ll stop mid-sentence with a furrow in his brow, lean across the table until our faces are inches apart, and whisper: Jada, I think it’s time for us to start a revolution.

And THAT’s when I’ll know that I’ve found True Love.

Perhaps your vision for 2016 has nothing to do with love or books (my weaknesses), but whatever it is that you dream of, I want to encourage you to dream (big and out loud) and then go forth and conquer. (I’m cheering for you). Happy New Year.


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