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WriteHer™

“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
―
Audre Lorde

​
Ms. Deborah, Olivia, Destiny, and Porsche seem like the stereotypical black women but it's more to them than meets the eye.
​Read HER story...

"গত রাতে (The Last Night)" - Porsche

4/21/2017

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​"So how did that experience at the ice cream parlor make you feel, Porsche?" Dr. Brinson asked.

My voice cracked as I replied, "My innocence was taken from me as the officers escorted me from the ice cream parlor to the police car. Everyone in the neighborhood knew I was a good kid and still, no one came to my rescue, not even my parents. From that moment on, I knew that no matter how good I was, some people would think negatively of me because I'm black."

Tears rolled down my face, and Dr. Brinson passed me a tissue. 

"And why did you feel that way?"

"When my parents got to the ice cream parlor, Mr. Key continued to fabricate the story of me stealing. My parents didn't defend me, even though they knew that I would not steal. Instead, they offered apologies and gave Mr. Key ten dollars for his troubles and the candy that went missing. Mr. Key decided not to press charges, and I was released back into the custody of my parents. From that moment forward, I knew that my parents couldn't shield me from pain and I began to rely on myself for protection. My friendship with Emily slowly but surely ended. I bottled up a lot of pain and anger throughout the years. I didn't realize the effect that the ice cream parlor incident had on me until my camaraderie with Paisley ended."

"Who's Paisley?"

"Paisley was who I wanted Emily to be."

"Do you care you elaborate?"

I sat and closed my eyes. My mind traveled back ten years ago to 2006. It was my last semester at Walker University, and I was living the life. I was able to enjoy the perks of being an adult, like brunch in Midtown Atlanta and partying until the early morning, but didn't have to worry about the responsibilities of being one, like paying rent and major bills, since I was still a student. Since I completed most of my credits, I was barely at Walker. I spent most of my time as an intern at the Atlanta office of The Maketa Group, a global marketing and PR firm. That's when I met Paisley.

I worked with Paisley on one of my projects at Maketa. She was a photographer and had an eye for seeing beyond the surface and finding the beauty in anything or anyone. She was able to capture a moment of time and translate it into art. Marcus, the Executive Director of PR and Marketing and my boss, liked her so much that he hired her full-time. Since she was the best photographer at Maketa, I used her on all of my projects. My experience at the ice cream parlor when I was eight hindered me from befriending white people, but Paisley was different. She was very progressive and open-minded. When we would go to out, Paisley had my back. Whenever I experience racism, she would defend me. 

Six months into our friendship, Paisley got a promotion. Marcus pulled some strings and Larry, his counterpart in the NYC office, hired her to be the Chief Photographer in New York. When she told me that she was moving, I was hurt, but she assured me that we would keep in touch and always be friends. The night before she left Atlanta, I threw her a surprise bon voyage party at a restaurant and lounge called Luvvie's in Buckhead.

The evening of November 23, 2007, was the night things changed between Paisley and me. It started off like any other Friday night in Atlanta. I was sitting in a cab listening to V-103. We were in bummer-to-bummer traffic on I-85, but the tunes playing on the radio kept me sane. When I arrived at Luvvie's, Gracie, Paisley's roommate and best friend, was there to help me to decorate.

"Hey, Porsha!" Gracie said.

"Hey, Gracie!" I responded. "How are you?"

"I'm feeling happy and sad at the same time. I'm so excited that Paisley has this new promotion, but I'm sure going to miss my best friend."

"I am too! But look, we get to visit the City when she gets settled in. Times Square, Broadway, and Hell's Kitchen all await us."

"You're right," Gracie said laughing. "Look at you looking at the bright side of things."

"I have to remain upbeat and optimistic, so I don't cry."

"Touché!"

Gracie and I decorated the VIP area for Paisley's party. The color scheme was Paisley's favorite colors. Lavender, silver and black balloons and decorations covered the space. An hour later, all of the guests arrived waiting on Paisley's arrival.

"Porsha, everything looks amazing!" Marcus said. "You may have a future at Maketa hosting events for our clients."

"Oh?" I asked, not certain if he was trying to impress the woman that was with him. "How about we discuss it on Monday?"

"Will do. Oh! Let me introduce you to my date. Porsche, this is Destiny. Destiny, this is my assistant, Porsche."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Destiny said. 

Destiny was a beautiful, modelesque woman. Marcus was cool, but there were rumors that Marcus was involved in some shady activity. Hopefully, she was as smart as she was pretty and didn't get too close to him.

Shortly after my interaction with Marcus and Destiny, I got a text from Paisley's father. "We're 5 minutes away!" the message read.

"Ok, everyone. Get ready; Paisley is on her way," I yelled above the music. Everyone stood up as they awaited her arrival.

When Paisley walked in, everyone yelled "Surprise!" Paisley looked stunned with her mouth open. "Oh my God!" she said as she placed her hands over her mouth.

Paisley usually wore a bare face with her sandy blonde locs down, but tonight, she wore her hair in a bun and wore light makeup. She traded her signature jean overalls for a black sequined bandeau top, black high-waisted trouser and black platform sandals. She was naturally gorgeous, but tonight she looked stunning. 

I walked up to Paisley and her father. "Mr. Beeson, how did you get Paisley dressed up?" I asked Paisley's dad.

"It wasn't easy, but I persuaded her by telling her that the three of us were going out to dinner to celebrate." he answered.

"Oh, so you would get dressed up for me?" I jokingly asked.

"Of course! I love you!" she responded. The way she said I love you was different than any other time that she told me, but I brushed it off with a smile.

"Let's get this party started, shall we?!" I yelled to the group.

The hostess brought us appetizers and bottles of liquor. Everyone ate, drank, and danced. As the night continued, we got merry, full and drunk. After a few drinks and shots, I wobbled in my heels to the restroom and saw Gracie. 

"Hey, girl!" I slurred.

"Hey!" Gracie said. "You threw one heck of a party. But I'm sure Paisley would like to spend some time with you afterward. How about you guys have a sleepover before she leaves tomorrow tonight?"

"O-K!" 

When I walked out the restroom, I saw Paisley leaning against the wall near it talking to Gracie. They both looked at me and smiled.

"See you later, Porsche," Gracie said. She winked at Paisley and walked away.

Paisley took my hand and said, "Thank you so much for throwing me this party. I appreciate you."

"Awwww, thanks, girl. I appreciate you too!"

"But I do want to spend some time together, just us two. How about we blow this Popsicle stand and go back to my place?"

"Let's do it!"

Paisley and I got into a cab and headed to her apartment. When we got there, we went to her bedroom. I took off my shoes as she rolled a blunt. We sat back and smoked. 

"Porsche, you know I care about you, right?"

"Of course I do," I responded with a laugh. I was drunk and high, and everything was funny to me.

"There is something that I have to tell you."

"Shoot," I said laughing, as I pointed a finger gun at her.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met. You are the total package. Not only are you beautiful on the outside but you also have a beautiful spirit. I know you pretend like you are a tough girl but deep down inside, you are compassionate. You are smart and funny, and anyone would be lucky to have you.

"You're too sweet," I said as I touched her face. 

I leaned back on her headboard and closed my eyes. Moments later, I felt her lips on mine. I kissed her back. Our tongues began to move in a forbidden dance. She slowly started to take off my clothes as I took her off. We both were naked in her bed, exposing ourselves to each other. We explored each other's bodies with gentle touches and kisses. Our moans made melodies of pleasure. After we had reached the moment of orgasmic ecstasy, we held each other close. Not a word was spoken as we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. 

I woke up around 6 am. I sat on the bed and gathered my clothes. I called a cab, stood up, and put on the off the shoulder black dress that I wore the night before. Paisley was lying on the bed naked, sleeping soundly. I admired and appreciated the beautiful physique of her body: the curl of her lips, the suppleness of her breast, the roundness of her butt, and the thickness of her hips. I kissed her gently on her lips and crept out of her apartment into the darkness.

That was the last time I saw or spoke to her. She called nonstop later that day, but I didn't answer. She left voicemail messages, emails, and sent letters to which I never responded. After a few months, the calls and messages decreased until they stopped altogether. She was the first white person that I fully trusted after my encounter with the police all those years ago. I let my guard down with her and became vulnerable with her. I will never forget the way we connected that night, but I knew that I could never love her the way that she loved me. Out of embarrassment and fear, I let go of one of the few people that loved me unconditionally, and I suffered for many years until I met Victor.
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