Sparks Will Fly

Love Me Not

Love Me Not

"Hey, I know that this ain't nothing that you used to out of the ordinary, unusual. I know you had your whole life planned out. So to watch this pan out I know this shit gotta confuse you. I know you wonder why I had to choose you. Don't wanna take you for granted or abuse you."- J. Cole

Nolia

I've never been to New York City in my life and I had no idea what to expect. It's about six o'clock at night, and I'm standing outside of Cody's brownstone waiting for him to unlock the door. Thankfully, Cody got us some food from Fumo Harlem that he had his driver pick up before picking us up from JFK airport. We ate that food as soon as we entered the car and because traffic was terrible and long— we had enough time to eat the food and digest it by the time we got to his place.

On the plane ride here, Cody kept telling me that I was going to have a great time experiencing the culture of New York City, including its hustle and bustle culture but in all honesty, I could care less about any of that. I'm just glad to be here with Cody as cliche' as that may sound. I get to spend an entire week with Cody uninterrupted. My mother agreed to watch Sol for a week while I'm in New York and Kevin agreed to pick Sol up on Friday to spend the weekend with her and give me a moment to readjust to being home from New York before Sol arrives. As much as Kevin gets on my everlasting nerve, I am deeply appreciative of his willingness to accommodate his schedule for my happiness... I mean it's the least he can do.

"Babe... you okay?" Cody asks, while carrying my luggage up the short flight of steps to his home.

I can feel my mouth slightly hanging open and I tug on the strings of my winter coat viewing the scenery of Cody's very well tailored New York City neighborhood. It's November and the holiday season is approaching in the next weeks or so and as usual the weather is getting colder. All along Cody's neighborhood street are brownstones in various shades of brown and reddish brown, cars parked along each side of the street, and tall trees with it's branches extended over into the street giving a false illusion of shade for those walking down the sidewalks. Despite the cold air, I see windows of some of Cody's neighbors open, and I smell something warm, savory, spicy lingering in the air that's accompanied by hearing the iconic Luther Vandross's song Superstar/Until You Came Back to Me playing from someone's home. I smile, as Cody opens the door to his home.

"Welcome to Harlem, baby" Cody beams with pride, while opening the door for me to enter the entrance way of his brownstone. I pause in the doorway as my eyes fall upon the wooden staircase, the living room with a fireplace nestled in the center of the wall underneath a flat-screen television, and a kitchen that looks like it has all stainless steel appliances and a marble kitchen island.

"Cody" I pause, "Your home is fucking beautiful" I whisper.

He snorts, closing the door behind him and locking it. He drops our luggage at the bottom of the steps, wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the side of my neck.

"Thanks. I decorated myself."

I turn around and swat his arm, "Are you shitting me?"

He chuckles, and holds his arm pretending that I had the force enough to hurt him through his Canadian Goose coat.

"Ouch, and yes... I decorated it. I'm multifaceted, you know?"

I laugh, while taking off my shoes and coat, resting them on the stairs banister. I have to inspect every inch of his home because I can't believe that he decorated it and actually made it homey. I have never met a man that turned a house into a home on their own. Cody really did that.