It was Sunday, and as I sat at my kitchen counter eating grits, bacon, and eggs, something finally settled. The entire week had passed in pure silence from Layla. No hey girl texts. No random check-in calls. Nothing. And honestly- I was okay with it. I didn't need distractions this weekend. I needed space. I'd been journaling more, sitting with myself more, listening instead of reacting. February has a funny way of doing that to you. It's the month of love, and sometimes we're so focused on giving love and waiting to feel it in returned that we forget to turn inward. To love ourselves. To romance ourselves. This weekend was dedicated to the most important person in my life- me. With Valentine's Day just days away, I wanted my space to reflect how I wanted to feel. I dug through my coat closet, pulling out every red, pink, and mauve accent I owned. As I scattered them throughout my apartment, something shifted. I felt feminine. I felt safe. I felt held. With my floor covered in decor, I paused to make a cup of coffee. I still had a few beans left from the bag Layla brought over. Noir Lux Coffee had really been on time with this launch. Lace and Pearls were next on my list after Love Me, Love Me not surprised me in the best way. Who was I? Instead of a hot cup, I went with an iced fudge brownie latte. The aroma filled my apartment like something baked with love. As I sipped, I swapped out the couch pillows, replaced all of the candles with peaches-and-cream scents, and hand-washed my Valentine's mugs and glassware. I placed my ice coffee on a marble, heart shaped coaster and smiled. My apartment looked how I felt. Lovely. "Siri, play Beyonce-I'm That Girl," I shouted. I shook my iced coffee as I noticed the caramel slowly sinking to the bottom, when my phone rang. Layla. She explained her silence-how she realized how I was right about her not really being into Chris and so she decided to end things with him. She asked about my Valentine plans. Since Russel and I hadn't discussed anything, I told her I was free for a Galentine's night of food, drinks and no expectations. Not long after we hung up, my phone rang again. It was Russel. With a FaceTime call. I wasn't ready to be seen. I ran to the bathroom, snatched off my headscarf, added a soft pink lip tint, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my loungewear. "Good morning, beautiful." he said. "Good morning," I replied smiling more than I meant to. We talked forty-five minutes checking in with each other and about our Valentine's Day plans. Truthfully, I hadn't planned on spending the day with him or Layla. I wanted to be alone. But who doesn't enjoy getting dolled up for a man as fine as Russel? As I finished the last sip of my iced coffee, my thoughts drifted. Was Galentine's really just for lonely women or was it simply another way to love your girls out loud? Does the timing of a Valentine's invite measure a man's interest? Or do we just accept the invites because we're desperate for someone to want us? Do the single women ever get tired of waiting? Somewhere between love and frustration, I landed on the simplest truth. The easiest love is the love we give ourselves. It's unconditional. It's uncomplicated. And it's always right on time. And how I planned to enjoy this Sunday was just enough.

                                                                          To be continued....