Page 69 of He Don't Play About Me
After I ate, I walked back down to my car and my trailer that was attached with some of my shit. I was on point with my planning and delivery times because while I was out there getting lil’ shit, my big furniture pulled up.
I was so thankful to those nice, strong men, cause after a lil’ bit of flirting, not only did my bed frame, dressers, and side tables get put together, my trailer got unloaded without me having to lift a finger.
I stood there for a second after they left, and the silence wrapped around me. I walked around looking at everything: my living room set, my bedroom set, and boxes that I had everywhere. The place was a mess, but it was okay; it was my mess.
I kicked my shoes off and got right to it, wasting no time opening boxes, folding clothes, and hanging things up. My music hummed around me low, bouncing off the walls as I sang along. Hours passed, and I barely noticed. I was moving off pure energy at that point, running on adrenaline and the want to feel at home.
By the time I slowed down, everything wasn’t down, but it was enough, enough for me to breathe.
I took a break and stood back with my hands on my hips, looking around.
I nodded to myself; my home was coming along.
I went and took a quick shower, letting the hot water hit my back, trying to wash off the long ass drive, the nerves, and the past few weeks I had been having. I wanted it all gone. Wishing I had a reset button.
When I stepped outta the shower, I put on one of my oversized shirts and slid into my new bed for the first time.
I was looking for something to watch when it hit me, like really hit me. That I was single, alone, and in a new city. I stared at the ceiling, the city lights peeking through the window, casting a slight shadow across the room.
And just like that…
Gio.
My chest tightened before I could even stop it. I looked to my right—a whole bed to myself. No arm pulling me closer. It had been weeks since I’ve felt it, and I should have been used to sleeping alone, but this time felt different.
I turned to my side, grabbed my pillow, and hugged it a lil’ tighter than I needed to.
“This is what you wanted, Islah, it’s what needed to happen,” I whispered, reminding myself.
I was away from Gio and free to move how I wanted, but for some reason, it still hurt.
The next morning, I was up early. I sat up, stretched, and looked around my room. A small smile crept on my face.
I got up, made myself something quick to eat, and took my time getting dressed for work. My nerves were so bad that my hands were shaking as I tried to apply my makeup, tie up my hair, anything. I was just about done with my morning struggle when I heard my phone ding. I looked down beside me, and it was a message from my momma.
Mom: Have a good day, baby. Your father and I are so proud of you. You got this!
I smiled and instantly calmed down. I grabbed my keys and my bag and looked around my place to see if I forgot anything and left out.
The hallway was quiet. I pressed the button and waited for the elevator. When the door finally opened, I stepped in and caught my reflection in the mirror.
My scrubs fit right, my hair was laid, my lip gloss shining. I looked good through all my nerves.
The ride to the hospital gave me time to really take in Atlanta. The traffic was different, the people moved different, and even the way they drove felt more aggressive. I turned my music up and tried to vibe out while learning my surroundings.
By the time I pulled into the parking garage, that nervous feeling hit me again. Not overwhelming, just enough to make me turn down the music and focus on my breathing.
I parked, grabbed my shit, and took one more deep breath before I hopped out.
“You got this, you are that bitch,” I said to myself.
I walked into the hospital, and it didn’t take long for all the feelings I had to ease up.
I stood at the floorboard, trying to figure out where I needed to go when I heard “Islah?” coming from behind me.
“Yes, that’s me.”
The woman smiled big while holding her hand out.
