Objects in the Mirror Are Right Next to the Rotisserie Chicken

“The Awakening of A Woman: Burnout."
~Cinematic Orchestra. Get you some.

It’s the perfect song for this blog. The perfect Segway for yesterday.

Me, my sister and my niece all went to our favorite store in the world, Fresh  Thyme. I’m not sure how many are in the city, but I know of three: two on 82^nd/86^th street and one in Greenwood. I’m NEVER in Greenwood so needless to say that’s the only one (of the ones I know about) that I haven’t been to. …until yesterday. I had actually forgotten that there was a FT out in Greenwood. For whatever reason, life perhaps, my sister wanted to go to that one. Even if she had have told me that’s the one we were going to, she would have received no opposition. For what? I LOVE Fresh Thyme!! We got there and the store was HUGE. It was the bigger of the ones I’ve seen.  We went in and that’s where things get concerning……...

I filled my cart up with stuff and as I walked past the fruit one last time, I noticed a man with his back turned to me, standing over the organic oranges. Maybe he was standing over the lemons. Honestly, I was looking at his arms. I’m an arm gal. I’ve said that. I didn’t know what his face looked like so in a sense, I was letting my MALE side out (wait – is MALE an offensive term now??? I’m so confused in this new world) for a little time to play in the field of objectifying. I stared at the back side of his arms and thought ‘does he work here’ ? I've never seen any beefcakes working at Fresh Thyme but things change. I didn't think anything else about it. It really was an unconscious situation. 

Only moments later, I saw him again. But this time, he saw me as well. Where ever in the store we were passing each other, we were facing each other. We locked eyes. I wonder how there was time to ever even think “OH He’s cute!!!-…

.....before that thought could finish itself (a tenth of a second seriously), I recognized him and thought he too recognized me.

We broke the simple stare quick and I didn’t know what to do. The inside of my mind must have looked like a computer mash up of algorithm & information.

The very next thought, this one lasting, was OMG THAT’S #MuseWeasel!!! The original muse of this blog.

I didn’t know what direction he went in but I was so positive that it was MuseWeasel that instantly, I almost walked out.

No, you don’t get it: I almost ABANDONED my groceries, left my sister and niece, at my favorite grocery store mind you, and went to my sister’s car to stand in the sun cause Lord knows I didn’t have keys.  The urge to leave came as if I had no right to be there. But then I said NO!! He can’t have my fucking store!!!!!!! He can’t run me out of my store !!!!!  What if it’s not even him? Here’s a thought I never had: What would HE do (MuseWeasel) if he saw me?

Before I go further let me say this: I don’t care. I’ve never thought that far because I don’t care. I would assume he would act like he doesn’t know me because it’s the safest thing to do. But I honestly don’t know. And since I don’t know, this only made me more secure in the fact that it was him. I felt his arrogance. I felt his insecurities. And I felt the rabbit hole of his dimples….it was him.  I felt an unexplainable fear coat me like a trench and my emotions were in a frenzy. 

I ended up in a standstill next to the rotisserie chicken and across from the coffee. I couldn’t move once I got there. The basket stopped and my feet locked up. I looked and saw my sister and niece a little ways away from me, eating chicken salad samples. I started to walk over to them but I was stuck. My heart started beating really fast and this crooked, confused smile fell over my face and wouldn’t let up. I fought it because I couldn’t understand what I would smile for? Was I happy to see this muthafucka? BITCHPLEASE!! is what I heard in my head in response. #Facts

It wasn’t a smile really. It was just a loss of comfort taking over. Facial expressions not knwoing what to do. A temporary loss of control of muscle spasms. Call it a terrified smile. So many thoughts happened. In all the years I’ve dated and loved and lost, I’ve never been in a position like such. I mean, of course I’ve run into ex’s before, but this isn’t my Ex. Everything that existed between us was made up and created by me and my poems...He’s just an X.  .. And before, I was younger and still full of oats to sew and a mild stripper mentality. Getting over niggas was a strong suit. Now is different. This is someone that I have prayed to NEVER cross with again. Not even at a traffic light. He’s a Kroger nigga living in a Barbie world, so I couldn’t see him being all the way out in GREENWOOD, at Fresh Thyme. But I was all the way out in Greenwood too.  And Fresh  Thyme is a great store. His girl has kids….i’m sure she’s heard of it. oh.Shit.Is.She.Here.Too.?????

How to leave? 

How to confirm? 

What to do? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

??????????

  ………….!!!!!!!!!!!!!! //////////////………… #(*&$(@&%(*Y$(%&(&$*#($

I tried to sneak a couple more looks at him to confirm or deny while I stood there in my panic. I peeped his arms but this time I wasn’t looking in a grocery store lust. I was looking for identifying markers. I needed to confirm reality so I could process what to do. There was a problem tho: I couldn’t remember #MuseWeasels arms. I’ve placed him in a box that no longer exists, not even in my repressed files. I couldn’t recall if he had tattoos and even as I type this, I still don’t remember. All I remember is that frat brand on his arm. I remember it because I used to trace it with my fingertips. I searched briefly in quick stints for that branding on the guy in the store’s arm but was too scared to look at him long enough to actually survey and locate. Then, I couldn’t remember what arm the branding was on, in the event it was who I thought it to be. I didn’t stare too long on my own. I was still stuck, still standing, or maybe hiding, next to the rotisserie carousal with my heart beating out of my chest. I feared he would feel my eyes and look at me again and I would know it was him and then wouldn’t know what to do. I kept standing there, looking over my shoulder. Like LITERALLY looking over my shoulder and trying to side-eye my way into his whereabouts. I mean, it was Greenwood. Black people were few and far between so it wasn’t hard. 

I stood there for at least ten minutes. I couldn’t remember if I was done shopping. I hadn’t decided to leave or stay. I was just stuck. My sister walked up by this time and in a panic, I let her know that SOMETHING was going on but I didn’t say what. I tried but I couldn’t decide if i should say “I just saw #MuseWeasel or ‘I thought that guy over there was #museweasel’.  Since I wasn’t sure that he wasn’t him, I just said ‘we just gotta stand here for a minute’.

 I appreciate having a sister. All she said was “ok’’.  

She didn’t ask for details or anything. Just ‘ok.’  Some of my panic toned down in that instant. Since I didn’t want to say what was going through my head until I knew right from wrong, I just started talking, about what I don’t know. Seeing as though we were right there next to the rotisserie chicken, it was only natural that we started surveying the options. By this time, I had asked my sister to locate the guy but didn’t tell her why. As we circled and studied which chicken breast looked the best, he started heading our way. My sis told me ‘here he comes, look that way’….it was really childish perhaps in the grand scheme of things. We were like little high school girls looking at a crush. Thing was, if he wasn’t who I thought him to be then I was really displaying childlike behavior.  And if he was, then I just showed him that he is STILL able to penetrate me. Oh vey, #SoulTies.

But I didn’t have time to care about that. He was right in front of us, at the effin coffee. My feet started to unglue themselves from the store floor out of necessity.

 I couldn’t stand there. I tried to recall if he drank coffee. I couldn’t remember.

I looked at his legs, searching for those pronounced calf muscles. I couldn’t remember anything significant about #MuseWeasel except the change in my life he brought. 

This man’s legs were a little skinnier near the calf but not enough to convince me. 

I went back and forth mentally, toggling between it IS him and it’s NOT him. 

I couldn’t figure it out and truth was I was more convinced that it was him. And not because I wanted it to be. But because reality bites and you can block people from social media, but life is everywhere you are. LIFE is EVERYWHERE you are. And you are not the controller.

To shorten a situation that must have lasted for 15 minutes, there was at least one more time that we caught eyes again. And again, I thought it was #MuseWeasel. I had managed to avoid this potential day for the last two years. I have not seen so much as a peek of that nigga’s car since November 2013. I didn’t want to get caught looking at him because if it was indeed #MuseWeasel, THEN WHAT???!!!! Like for real, then what? Do I leave the store once I’ve confirmed his identity? I KNOW I don’t speak. I would never speak to him again and maybe that makes me petty but I know for a fact that if I saw him (I know even more now) that while HELL might be available if necessary, it wouldn’t necessarily be a hellO.

I had finally started walking. I gave the green light and me and my sister and niece took off walking to the register. As we walked and got in the line (I told her I was done shopping as soon as my feet were unglued), I told her who I thought it was. I asked her to see if he had a branding on his arm seeing as though, in this big ass Fresh Thyme all the way out in Greenwood, he was still close by. She didn’t see one. I thought again that it wasn’t him afterall.

 Then I suddenly had the most ignoratchet of urges: I started to go talk to him !!!!!! I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me besides being a glutton of heart punishment but um, I really did start to go talk to him and spark conversation. FOR WHAT KENDRIA??!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! AND THEN WHAT???

EVEN IF HE WAS INTERESTED, HE WAS A FUCKING DOPPLEGANGER FOR THE NIGGA THAT CRIPPLED ME FOR OVER A YEAR !!!! So what would be the point in sparking a coffee in the morning conversation with #MuseWeasel's apparent twin? That thought came expediently thank you God.

I mumbled a FuckTheseNiggas and walked quickly out the store without looking back.

And just like that, we left.  As we sat in the car getting ready to back out of the parking space, I saw him leave. I wasn’t able to see what car he got in to leave so truthfully, it could have been him. I don't THINK it was. But I was mortified by how closely he resembled ....  they could have been twins. It wasn’t a case of me seeing someone’s face on someone else like in the movies. Nah. This was like me and  Zora Neale Hurston in some of her pictures. They resembled, at least to me, so closely that I got stuck in the grocery store, right next to the rotisserie chicken and couldn’t move my feet.

A near panic attack. If I had have been alone, it probably would have gone all the way in. Or, I would have left. Or both. Both are definitely an option.

The funny part is how little to not at all that I think of him. The days of me fearing ending up in the same space and same time as him have long passed and I’ve replaced him with newer, fresher mistakes, mishaps and even a GED.  This day was a page from a book that doesn’t even rest on the shelves anymore. It scared me. When I was standing there, stuck and by myself, I thought of how much this signifies it’s time for me to go.

Indianapolis is small. VERY small. It’s been nothing short of a Wool-Haired God and lucky wabbit footz that I don’t see that dude anywhere. Between the poetry shows and fashion shows and just random places and spaces, it’s surprising that we never saw each other again. And I’m glad. I can say that it didn’t pull up undiscovered or hidden emotions and feelings about him. I really have let all that anger and hurt go. Or at least I thought. I don’t think this moment in time means I am still harboring feelings. I’m not.

Did I love him? Shit, maybe…..

 if I did, do I still? Shit, nahtrilly.

If I didn’t love him and don’t  now, was it just infatuation ? Shit, maybe….. I don’t have these answers. I don’t want these answers or care. Where he is concerned in my heart and mind, there is nothing more than blank space. This person never comes to mind anymore unless I’m blogging. Yesterday brought him beyond my stopping point; or right up to it.

Yesterday scared me.

That unexplainable feeling of impending doom and fear that people have when they are having a panic attack is the best way I could describe it. I’m caged here. I’m fully caged here and my wings are too big for this canary living space. I’m a whole Golden Eagle. I want out of Indianapolis. But it’s not just as simple as me wanting out. I’ve begun to feel PUSHED out. Maybe by God. The universe. Destiny. Life. Maybe it’s just time for action on my part of leaving.  I was ALL THE WAY OUT IN GREENWOOD yo. I live in ‘midtown’. I live in the hood. I’m a full 30 minute highway drive from Greenwood. And he lives EAST !!!! 

.....I went all the way to Greenwood to get stuck trying to tame a panic attack right next to the damned rotisserie chicken.  I can’t wait for the day Indiana is a memory. It will be a beautiful one. I’ve turned into a whole woman here. I’ve learned how to spit poetry here. I’ve found love in hopeful places and family in friendships. But Indy is my cage.

Indy is my cage.

Yesterday ……Indy showed itself just how much of 'my cage' it really is. And I stood still, right next to the rotisserie chicken, trying to break free from the pause button. The mirror has it right. 

Objects are closer than they appear. I took this picture shortly before we went to the store.  I tried to make this much shorter. #Splat. 

"You did not break me 
I"m still fighting for peace 

"Well i've got thick skin
and an elastic heart
But your blade, it might be too sharp
i'm like a rubberband until you pull too hard
i may snap and i may pull
you won't see me fall apart
i've got an elastic heart" ~Sia, Elastic Heart

 (I wasn't actually playing this. But it's befitting. I was playing Stankonia. Let that marinate).