The worst of enemies make the best of friends.
It's very hard at times for a person to understand the opposite gender. Sometimes trying to relate to a person of the opposite sex is like staring at a brick wall and then asking it to explain the meaning of life. You will never get an answer. Enigmatic is how I would describe women. Most times, women are even a mystery to themselves.
The relationships that women and men form often develop from strange first impressions. For example, when I was in elementary school there was this very beautiful girl that I was just dying to talk to. I was such a shy person back then that I couldn't even fathom the words that would peak her interest.
The name that seemed to roll off her tongue so gently was Kenyatta Hill. She had eyes that were passionate brown, skin the color of gentle mocha, straight brown hair that flowed with golden highlights, a smile that eclipsed the sun, and the face of a goddess. She was what we called "mixed". Her mother was Caucasian and her father was black. Kenyatta was new to the area, so she had absolutely no friends yet. I was such a dork back then. I used to wait by the cafeteria every morning before breakfast started just to say hi to her. Did she ever notice me? I don't even think that she did. When I used to greet her, she glared right through me as if I was a window in a dark and secluded room.
One day in class our teacher, Mrs. Jackson chose to assign the class a project. Mrs. Jackson made me and Kenyatta partners. I was finally going to get a chance to get to talk to her, or so I thought.
To this day I can't remember what exactly went wrong, but Kenyatta and I started to argue with each other. Mrs. Jackson calmed the class down and sent the both of us outside to remedy the situation.
After a ten minute talk and a threat to call our parents, we pleaded to Mrs. Jackson that our conflict was over, but I could feel that our conflict had just begun. Soon after we were pressured into making up, the school bell rung and we were back at each other's throats like boxers on a Friday night.
She was actually trying to fight me! Passersby gathered around us in a circle screaming for us to fight. She swung at me but I moved out the way. I called her a stupid bitch as I became even angrier at her. When she heard those words cross my lips, it was as if time froze and she couldn't believe what she heard. She moved with Godspeed as she tried desperately to strike me with all her might.
It was then; I knew that I fucked up. My father always told me to never call a woman a bitch, now I know why. I didn't want to fight her. I liked her! She was supposed to be my new wife, not that I had one before but nonetheless she was going to be it. After about two minutes the commotion was over and our parents were called to the school.
Kenyatta was furious; we didn't talk to each other for about two months. All of a sudden, one day she started to talk to me. She even came to sit next to me during class. Was this just a trick, or did she really get over our little disagreement? I wasn't sure but I was open to find out.
Soon Kenyatta and I began to have full conversations. She told me about her life, her family, and her dreams. She wanted to be the pink ranger when she grew up, and I wanted to be the red ranger. It was perfect. I felt that we were connected, but then again I was young, so what did I know? All I knew was that it felt good when we talked.
We used to have so much fun hanging out after school and on the weekends. She became one of my best friends. Her and I went almost everywhere together. Inseparable would be the best word to describe us.
I wanted to ask her out so badly, but I never did. To this very day I wonder what could have been. Then again, we were just in elementary school. We probably would have dated for about two days, and then broke up because I didn't share my peanut butter and jelly sandwich with her. But, it would have been nice to know what might have happened.