FLAME*

I put an asterisk on that title because it’s subject to change. I intend to have it altered to a Latin version of that word. I know as much about Latin as I know mathematics. Perhaps the Latin scale is even a notch higher. That explains why a lot of things don’t add up to me and I rarely ever make calculated moves.

Flame is a feeling,flame is a person. It takes a whole load of courage and deliberations to write about this. Here’s why. I met flame a couple of months ago. Solid enough to sit a year but because I don’t see him every other month let’s cut it down to months. He doesn’t strike me as someone we would click and start making the long calls into the night,the one I’ll talk to about my fears and insecurities without being judged or loved less. Flame and I have strictly professional interactions,basketball. He is my coach. I talk to him in between drills,respond to his dark humour with my extremely dark humour and appreciate the much confidence he had in me.

As a player,having a coach that believes you can do things you’re quite unsure of is divine. Bring me my crown please. Then we veer off the game,I notice he’s pushing me a lot more and texts too. I am good at returning the energy I get so I take a ride. I’ll let you know about the day I lost my phone and he became the hero in my story,insert doe eyes. Fast forward to a few weeks later I begin to talk to fLame a lot more often. He gasses me up about my looks (I am not all that) and then we hook up by the riverside and talk the evening away.

He qualifies to my Thanksgiving list because he’s a newcomer with so much energy. He knows a lot of distorted truths and neat lies about me for someone I haven’t known for long. I feel safe because that embrace is warm and it makes me forget to hold myself back. I am here for who flame is,not what he can do. I hope the embers last the long cold nights. Thank you for putting me to perspective and being my go to person .Pick a love, a heart or a girl on your way out.

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