The Secret, Volume 1

Here I am, writing about people that are discarded by individuals and by society, and yet there I found myself, dancing at a reggae bar in my neighborhood with my cousin and a guy who I found to be cute, wondering if he would kiss me, wondering if he might be able to distract me from the dark, brooding cloud hanging above me.

I was going to have to dispose of him. Well, not this guy in front of me, who was clearly a little drunk, having a good time, and trying to not look at me in the eyes. Yeah, he was a sure thing. I could easily play the ingénue, but also the cool girl, so that he would feel both special enough to fuck a “good girl,” but also feel that there was limited liability on the back end of it. On top of that, he knew I was the one that his friends lusted after but couldn’t have, given both their marital status and my free-spirited butterfly engagement. I’d float in and out of the crew, hovering just long enough to be a colorful distraction, to point people in the direction of fun things happening, connect folks with others, and then flitter about just out of reach.

So yes, it was definitely a sure thing when we eventually sat in the corner at the Regge bar in Bedstuy, then he looked at me in the eyes and leaned in just a little, and I matched him with a gaze that suggested someone who was shy but also sexy and open.

It was a ruse.

Because, I was hiding a secret.

Well, he did know I was fucking a married man. He found out from a “best friend” of mine who spilled the beans easily in hopes of solidifying his attention soon after I introduced them given their geographical proximity, assuming they would become friendly neighbors, not that they would dig into my own tortured situation and throw it all up in my face.

But we both pretended that my secret was not present between us in the room.

He probably cared very little.

I cared very much.

My heart was bleeding, broken and bruised. I wanted my secret to stay a secret. Because well I couldn’t bear to say the truth. The truth being, that the love of my life had disposed of me.