Sugar Cane Chocolate: Rooted Jealousy

  It's been a complete week since the day I had been given those flowers from a complete stranger. The event is still fresh enough in my mind to make me smile like it actually meant something. Of course Faye is completely convinced that it had to of meant something - flowers are expensive people don't just go throwing them around for nothing!
    I wave her notions off as often as I can, but it's fun to think that it could mean something. Then I remember I have a boyfriend to be faithful to.
    Speaking of my boyfriend, I'm always reminded of how much I have to wait for him. Like currently it feels like I've been waiting millions of seconds for this boy. I'm leaning against a building along a busy New York City street. I'm standing here waiting for Brian, but he's running late.  It doesn't upset me that he's late, I just don't like being alone in the city, despite the fact that I've lived here a while now. I'm still not used to any of the daily life there.
    I look up and see that yet another building is under construction. There is never a restful moment here, and something is always breaking down and needing to get fixed. It seems to be an unspoken rule that if nothing is happening in a city something is wrong, and something needs to be broken right away. There always has to be motion and progress, and for me that's weird. There always has to be sound coming from somewhere, while I was used to almost constant silence growing up.
    Growing up I was a little field mouse. We lived on a little put together farm. I live with my brother in Chelsea now, I work in a little flower shop down the road from us so I can help some what with the bills. My brother, Brendt, composes music for people though, he gets paid pretty good, and rarely needs me to pitch in. That's how I met Brian. It was while I was helping my brother set up for a gig. He came up to me and we talked for a while. Despite how much we seem to like each other, he's sort of an awful boyfriend, but occasionally he cares enough to stop smoking weed long enough to take me somewhere nice.
    He's really not that bad, he's just not the best. Everyone always tells me I could do better, but I don't really care. Of course I can do better, there is always someone better. But I guess too a lot of my friends think Brian is as low as it can go sometimes. Maybe because he smokes pot a lot, with the occasional drug I can't pronounce mixed in - but I'm the only one out of my friends who doesn't do some sort of drug so I don't know what they're talking about at all. I'm the only one who doesn't drink either my cares away either.
    So while I'm languishing here against this building waiting for Brian, my mind can only slip to the obvious which is he probably can't wake up this morning, or forgot that he was supposed to meet me here. I'd bet all of my money on him sleeping though because I sent him a few texts and he hasn't gotten back to me yet. It's no big deal. "It's fine, mom!" I say under my breath in a mock, deep tone, and quietly laugh at my inside joke.
    A few years ago Brendt, my oldest brother, the one I live with, jumped from a cliff into water and landed awkwardly, and while he was being helicoptered away my second brother, Jordan, kept repeating that phrase over and over while he was obviously not fine at all. Collapsed lungs, and he's fine mom - he's fine - he's fine mom! We still laugh about that.
    This wasn't fine though. This was probably the tenth time he'd forgotten about me in the last 2 weeks. Recently I've been thinking maybe it's time to move on, but I've never had to break up with anyone before, so I don't know if I can. He's just there now, and we're comfortable with each other. I'm almost afraid to know how it feels without him around, and, God, he'd probably be the kind of person to stalk me for a little while afterword too.
    I step forward to start heading to his apartment to get him out of bed, and someone knocks into me... Or I knock into someone, either way. I'm swiveled around and caught by my arm before I fly into traffic.
    "I'm so sorry," I hear as I stare at the wheels in front of my eyes, and straighten up to watched my life flash before my eyes. It's incredibly boring so far. "I've been doing that more than I want to today, I guess that's what comes from having too much -" We stare at each other a minute and I recognize this face, and he recognizes mine. "On my mind - if it isn't the little girl from the flower shop - what are you doing popping out of the shadows?"
    This is Dante. I fondly remember again that he bought flowers for me last week, and how I now have them hanging upside down to dry them as decorations.
    We stare at each other a moment before I can feel my face grow hot, and I look away to try and think of some excuse. "Uhm - I'm waiting for someone," I don't want to say my boyfriend, "But he's late so I was just gonna go find him..." He looks at me, and dips his head down. We're sort of standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and I hate the feeling of people walking around me. I feel like they're all judging me heavily.
    I try to stand straight, but hours of hunching over a computer writing short stories makes it hurt. "How long have you been waiting?" He asks and I quickly pull my cell phone out of my pocket. I stare at it a while, asking it for help with my mind because I'm so awkward!
    When I've pieced together the minutes I've been leaning against that building I'm surprised. "About an hour, maybe?" He raises his brows as if shocked.
    "I would have left long before now," He says, and is that - concern on his face? I don't know if I should tell him that he doesn't know Brian and how freaky he can get when things don't go according to his half-sober plans.
    "It's not that big of a deal, really, he could show up at any time," And I realize I'm making excuses for a grown man. I sort of feel like Brian's secretary for a moment.
    With dozens of people walking past us he reaches for my chin tilts my head back to stare at my face seriously. I do my best not to freak out at the touching. Trying to block out the thought that he's pretty much a stranger. "You look tired," He states quietly, "And sad - do you even sleep at night?" I give into my need to freak out and flail my arms in front of him so he'll let go, and he acts as if he's offended. "You don't have to get all dramatic."
    "You're the one who's getting dramatic - I sleep fine." I'm lying.
    Just in that moment I feel a hand on my should, and it turns me around roughly. "Hey, babe," The words are thrown in the air like they mean nothing, "Where've you been?"
    "Over there," I offer as explanation to Brian and point to the exact spot I was standing for an hour, "I've been waiting for you."
    "Never mind," Brian tosses again, flipping his hair a bit, "Cindy's waiting for us at the cafe - if we don't get there soon we'll miss her number." I nod, and he grabs my hand. I turn my head back as I'm pulled away to say something to Dante as we leave, but he's already gone. Heading back to his original destination before I walked into him. He's somewhere in the busy sidewalk where I can't see him, and I purse my lips. I would have like to at least gotten a number.
    There's no telling if we'll ever see each other again. Everything seems to be chance with him, and we've never been around each other long enough to get any contact information. So I sigh as Brian pulls me across the street, and I jog to catch up with him, smiling up at him as I match my steps with his and saying something about how I'm excited for Cindy. He smiles back, and tells me that Cindy has been writing this particular piece of work for a while.
    Cindy is a poet, and a very close friend to Brian. They've known each other since birth pretty much, and are like sister and brother. Cindy's mother even fostered Brian for a little while when they were still in grade school. Cindy and I connected because we're both writers, and she constantly tells me that she wants me around all the time because she finds me inspirational. I scoff at that, but she means it in a serious way. So I am excited for her. I would never be able to stand up in front of a crowd and read things that I poured onto paper. It's just not how my minds built.
    Cindy also has a super supportive boyfriend. Nothing like Brian.
    So as I look up at Brian and think of Cindy, I'm jealous.
    Not the raging kind of jealousy only the quiet kind. The kind that takes deep roots and makes you sad over time unless you do something to uproot yourself.
    I also wonder what kind of love Dante would be, and I have to physically shake my head to remove that thought.