Not Your Average African-American

My eyes popped open and I eyed my calender on the wall above me. It was the 31st; today was the day Sean was going to come and see me. The minute my feet touched the floor, I remembered….

He can’t come.

I stopped in my tracks, and my shoulders slumped. “He can’t come,” my brain reminded me again. I flopped back into my bed and heaved a sigh of defeat.

All day…I’ve looked longingly out of my window, with a glint of hope. “Well, maybe he was just jerking my chain…and he’s gonna come anyway” or “Maybe he’ll pull up any minute” Any minute now, he’ll drive up out of nowhere and I’ll run outside and throw my arms around him. Every time a car came near my house, my head would pop up and I’d look anxiously out the window. No luck, whatsoever.

My mind told me over and over again today, “Norissa, he can’t come. He can’t come” But my heart screamed, “He’s coming for me. He’s coming; I know he will.” Such a battle for my insides to fight. My mind, fighting with my heart. And right now neither one is prevailing. Because my soul is winning. It says:

“Forget whether he’s coming today or not. Forget if he can or can’t come. Know that whether it be next week or next month, you will see him again….

“You will”

And that made me smile.