Happy birthday.

In January 2002 Kesi made his intentions known. He saw me in the hall one day and said to me, "I broke up with my girlfriend." He had this tone that hinted at how his brain completed the sentence: "...and we can get together now." At first I chose to ignore this advance, asking myself why he would tell me this and what was he trying to achieve. Then I gave in, kissing him in front of everyone and telling him I really enjoyed it.

On our first date as a couple, we went to the movies and made out through "How High." There was this passion around us that made us kiss and grope at every opportunity. The presence of others was probably the only thing that kept us from undressing each other publicly.

We had never really been alone. Even at the movies there was another woman in the theater, sitting in the front. She left halfway through. I don't know if that was because of us or the fact that it was a Thursday and late afternoon, when people usually are doing other things.

Later that night I "accidentally" told him I loved him and had to explain to him that I was not in love, although I could be, but wasn't at this time. He understood and told me he loved me too, as a friend.

The next Tuesday was my 18th birthday. Kesi had tried to wait until then to ask me to be his girlfriend but I was impatient and tired of smooching without commitment. People would ask, "are you two together?" and I would reply, "I don't know, are we?" in what was decidedly a "tone." I decided I wanted to smoke a little that day, and since it would be our one week anniversary, I wanted to be with him.

We went to his mother's house. He lived all the way in stone mountain at the time and my brother was at my house, so this was the only option. It was such a nice house, so clean. There was a fountain in the livingroom and white furniture. I wondered how she managed children and a clean house, remembering my aunt Diane's zebra striped couch and what the four kids that she'd helped raise did to it. There was a dimmer light over the big couch for "mood lighting," which I didn't notice at the time but definitely would become acqainted with in the future.

Simple conversation turned to talk of kicking each the other's ass, which led to wrestling and eventually kissing on the couch. I wore a white, off the shoulder top with a rose printed on the front, and impossibly tight jeans which were happily removed. Around the time my pink under-shirt was removed, I went to the point of no return.

"We need a condom," I whispered over the loud bass playing. As he got up to find one, I sat there with my thoughts: oh god, why did I say that? It just came out! What if he can't find one? What if he doesn't want to do it? He's so cute. Can't fuck this up. Don't wanna look stupid... What is this music that's playing? He's taking a while...

He returned...

We lay on the floor, I on my stomach, half covered by the blanket we were also on top of. He lay completely exposed, hovering over my back. "right shoulder, left shoulder..." he punctuated each statement with a kiss. "I'll be back." I watched him as he got up to go to the bathroom, embarrased for him at the fact that he didn't cover up, half wondering if I should look away. He didn't look back to see if I was watching.

I spent the next few minutes alone with a half-smile, thinking back. He was so sweet; kept asking if I was ok. But what happens now? It had only been a week! It was a really good week, but 7 official days none the less. I closed my eyes as Kesi re-entered the room.

"has this been on repeat?" I'm not sure who asked but we both realized what had been playing on the stereo for the duration of our time there. Three 6 Mafia's "tear the club up" was anything but love making music, yet it had been playing on repeat for over an hour. We shared a laugh and the desire to hear something else.

I changed into some of his clothes so mine wouldn't smell smoky, and joined him in the kitchen. He stood over the table in an a-shirt and black skull cap, and took a meticulous, long drag from the blunt I had acquired as a birthday gift from our friend Kris. I immediately began to laugh. "you look like a crackhead named Leroy!" we laughed together at the image in my head.

The weed had managed to make me pseudo phylosophical. While in an embrace, kneeling in a chair to reach him, I placed my head on his chest. His heart beat so slow. I asked if it was because he was high, and he told me it was always that way. I tried to explain to him that he was like two people to me. "When I look at you, its like, there's my friend Kesi, but then I close my eyes and listen to your heart beat, you're, like, my boyfriend, and when we kiss, you're my boyfriend, and then I look at you, and you're my friend again. You know? And when we're on the phone you kinda switch back and forth." (that's still true today, although I can articulate it better.) He was too high to follow along.

We stayed like that: high, talking about this and that, in each others' arms. It seemed like hours but hadn't been very long at all. Eventually we melted to the floor, he crawling to something in the livingroom while I warmed myself in the small rug on the kitchen floor. "you're a bad influence." I had told him that twice that day and this time he had to wonder why. "we had sex, skipped school, and smoked weed. You're going to lead me down the path to destruction."

"I would never destroy you." by this time he was over me, staring into my face. "I want to reassemble and build you."

Well, what the hell do you say that? I could not think of one logical sentence. I looked into his eyes and saw that he wasn't being cheesy or just trying to insure that we would have sex again. He really wanted me.

I just wanted to kiss him. And keep kissing him. And I did.
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