Langston turned out to be a challenge, but in the best way. I was very used to the type of man who didn’t deserve me. I craved someone with patience and depth. I even prayed for him. It’s funny how we all have an ideal way we’d like God to answer prayers. I often imagine He’d hand me what I asked for, decorated in a big red bow, right into the palm of my hands. Happiness would be a petite, glittery box. Patience would be in a bigger, less flashy box. True love might require FedEx. But that’s not how prayers are answered. God presents us with opportunities to use the tools we’re asking for.
Langston is the answer to many of my prayers. Not in a fantastical rom-com kind of way, but in the way I described above. I prayed for a man like him. He may not be in the package I imagined, here at the time I wanted, or in the same city with me like I wanted, but he’s here and his presence will teach me valuable lessons about myself.
But Langston’s not my man and I am not so sure he has any intention of filling those shoes.
“What’s up girl?” Langston text me around 7am on a Monday morning.
I was getting dressed for work and replied to his message immediately, “Up and at ’em. You?”
“Can I call you?” Langston replied.
Before I could give him an answer, my phone buzzed with his name across my screen.
“Well…” I started.
“Well, good morning,” Langston said. “What’s up?”
“I’m getting dressed for work. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” I asked.
“I wanted to hear your voice and I prefer to call you,” Langston said in his raspy, syrupy slow voice.
“That’s nice,” I smiled.
We proceeded to talk about his work, his coaching, his bus driver therapist, my family, my job and hatred of the necessary evil of working out. He laughed when I revealed my stalling tactics for starting whatever set my trainer asked me to do. I picked on him when he told me his bus driver therapist had to let him know he was taking a day off.
Before I knew it, two hours passed and I was officially late for work. “I’ve gotta go Langston,” I regretted having to cut our long conversation short.
“Can you call me later?” He asked.
“Then I’ll call you,” He said.