And with that, he was off.
The following day was easier but still dry. I had dance class that evening. I gave my number to Tamia's tune a test drive and everyone went wild. Jimmy was so elated that he announced that he was planning a showcase for our choreographed numbers in a couple of months. He said that he had planned on making the announcement in a few weeks or so but seeing how much work people were putting into them his excitement wouldn't allow him to hold onto it. I was immediately thrilled at the thought of Azmir being there to see me perform the song that we'd christened there in my makeshift dance room at my place. Then reality slapped me in the face that he was out of town and that it would be days before I see him.
As I reflected on A Purpose Driven Life I had a revelation. Why am I holding back on the one person who is asking me to love them? Why do I think that I have to mourn alone and be alone on everything? Would it be a foreign thought to believe that Azmir’s presence in my life is a gift? That his love is in my destiny? I wanted to shake this shell that towered around me, that I somehow convinced myself was for my protection. Could I just lift it a little to receive love as God intended? I knew that he didn’t exactly have in mind for love to be this unofficial, but I felt like I needed to start somewhere and with the only person willing to take a risk with me.
At home while letting Azna out to do his thing out in my tiny yard it hit me: I'm moving into Azmir's place! It was that quick, that spurred, that simple. Why succumb to long days and lonely nights when a wonderful man—and one of Azmir's status—is practically begging me to join lives with him?
What's the worst that can happen?
If it doesn't work out, I knew I’d always have a home to return to. In the back of my mind I had haunted reservations of whether or not I was doing this to avoid loneliness, but I immediately heard Michelle's voice admonishing me, “You alone are worthy of love!”
Once Azna was done handling his business, I scooped him up and said, “We’re moving, dude! Let’s pack!”
It was late that Wednesday, about ten thirty at night when I hauled a duffle bag and Azna's crate and other belongings into Azmir's high-rise.
I had a car full of my immediate needs, but took up what I could bare. While I schlepped my things from the elevator, down the corridor and into the apartment door butterflies started to evade my belly. When I pulled out the golden key, turned the knob and pushed the door in, nervousness overcame me.
The lights were off except for the ceiling bulbs aligned down the corridor and overhead of the stove in the kitchen. I turned on the foyer light and let Azna out of his cage.
“This is home...for now. Let’s get comfy.”
About an hour later, after showering, I went about exploring. I started with Azmir’s home office. I flipped the switch and watched the room illume. His work room was fairly large and was centered by a huge wooden desk. I sauntered in, observing the artwork on the long walls and countless books on the shelves. Azna followed behind me exploring the floors. I sat in the oversized desk chair and exhaled. I wondered how much work did Azmir actually do here. I touched the mouse and the computer lit up. It must have been in sleep mode. The last thing he had up was his itinerary for the business trip he was on.
“Okay, well he wasn't dishonest,” I said audibly. Reservations were made for him alone. “No mistress?” I laughed to myself.
“You’re technically not his girlfriend!” was the voice of pessimism that had always haunted my subconscious. Not today. Not anymore. I was determined to step out of my shell.