Here's to a year. . .

Dear you know who you are:

It’s been a year.

A whole 365 days have passed since you nonchalantly passed me your business card and I thought you reminded me of Russell Simmons.

A whole year of lazy Saturdays and pickups at the bus station and hotel getaways and meeting me at my first 10k and fighting over what to eat only to have it be the same damn thing and you showing me a whole new side of the world I keep passing by.

A whole year of my half stepping and your self assuredness. My fright and your maturity. My cool nonchalant Brooklyn chick attitude colliding with your world traveling I make music but I really work to buy sneakers and more toys being. My not being impressed with your past or your future deals but just wanting to spend my time and heart energy on a good person. You’re support and unconditional love and attention  and even that annoying way you subconsciously don’t want to let me go so when I try to get out of bed at the last minute in the morning cuz I won’t get up to pee in a deep sleep… I find your arm pinning me to the bed. You’re kids, my adamant stance in being the slow bloomer that I am. Our new jobs and cars and changes. A whole year.

I still wanna be your Kimmora if you’ll be my Russell, I don’t yet understand it, but I’m learning. If only you will stop trying to make me  jealous with talks of “supa star coochie” Let it be known I don’t believe you! (for my own sanity) We can build our empire and lead a generation. Keep real music pumping up from the Underground and if your ok with it… I will be the Whitney to your Bobby.. cuz you say no one knows who you are and you’re fine with it ( . Let’s just substitute the crack for candy. (

You who knows who you are… Thank you for loving me and being there for me and supporting me and fighting with me and hating me and loving me again.

Let’s see what the next year brings,

Love,
J