Rashad...

We met when he was almost 16 and I nearly 20. For him it was love at first sight, for me it took me a while to get over the age difference. But after a couple of dates and meeting his mom and sister I let go of my fears and plunged into a semi-serious relationship with him. His mom encouraged me to visit often, loving the fact that I was a nice, quiet girl that was in college and hard working. She taught me a lot about parenting, now that I think of it. My mom wanted me to abstain from sex until marriage. Shad’s mom felt that sex was inevitable. If you’re going to do it better to do it safely, privately, with the proper precautions. She inquired about my condom preference and as much as it embarrassed the hell out of me to admit it, I told her. She provided exactly what we needed and her son provided me hours of pleasure.


Rashad taught me boldness both in and out of the bedroom. He taught me not to be afraid of voicing my thoughts. He introduced me to a variety of music and was the first to expose me to Erykah Badu. He was so funny and bold and brash. But of course he was immature too. And jealous. But my God he was a great lover. The things that boy did to me makes me blush now. But, many of those things he did, I taught him.

Eventually though the immaturity issue drove us apart. I lacked the patience to deal with someone I now deemed to be a child. I hated to part from him. I cried and if memory serves me correct so did he. Four years later we had a chance meeting at a hospital. I had just finished visiting my grandfather and he was there for… I don’t recall. I was pregnant, but not showing and desperately unhappy with my relationship. He saw me at a distance, called to me and when I drew near to say hi he immediately kissed me, smothering my hello. He’d always done that to me, no matter where we were or who was around. It was one of the things I loved about him and missed. As guilty as I felt, I followed him home and sat talking to him about his relationship, about mine, about my pregnancy. He asked if I was happy with my life and I admitted I was not but I was committed to making it work. He asked if I loved him and I said yes. He asked if we could try our relationship again and I said no. One of the hardest decisions I ever made at the time. He pleaded and I just couldn’t… and I left.

I haven’t seen him since that night.

Until last week… in our local Gotcha! paper. The paper that is printed with photos of most wanted criminals.

Damn, Shad…