TAKERRA ALLEN

Should we or shouldn’t we? That’s been the question. Me…I could’ve gone either way. I know how to adapt.

So, when life threw Mrs. TA some curve balls as life does for us all, detouring the plans, I let her know I’ll sit tight. We can have the best intentions and manifest all we want. But in the end, we are all on God’s time. And the way I watch her try to hold onto the reigns of her creativity and ride it to the end while life bucks underneath her like a wild bull – I respect it. I respect any of those artsy types. I’ve never been that. No, I’m an analytical girl. I like to deal with controlled variables. One plus one is two. So on, and so on.

So should we proceed with my letter even if I’m not up next…yet? That was the question. I know waiting on the conclusion of Tahli and Vin’s story has you all barely hearing me right now. (I do know the ending by the way. Winky, winky. And it is something. A story that truly needed to be told. I believe it will help others in the future. There’s always a lesson there when she’s doing it.)

But, here in TA Land as the natives know, patience is a virtue. Before you know it, it’ll be 2025 and you’ll be meeting me for real this time. Ms. Tahli wasn’t the first to bypass me. No. I was supposed to come before the second Mrs. Hill, as well. But, by now, most of you know how she is. She wants what she wants and often, goes to the extents to get it.

I don’t mind the wait for the story of me and…him.

I mean, the story of him, period... that requires tact. He’s such a complex yet, divine being. It takes time to weave correctly. Everything that he is and what he represents, if TA doesn’t take her time with it, you could miss some things. All of those puzzle pieces that make the man that’s turned my mundane realm upside down… the man that opened my eyes to a world that was existing around me that I never knew… Forget the readers. If she doesn’t get him right, Mrs. TA gon’ have to see me about something.

Don’t get defensive. I respect her. I’m just really territorial when it comes to him. You’ll see. You’ll see what he’s done to me. Things I never knew possible in the real world. I was that girl. Shackled to mediocrity, even with the madness happening around me. Pure madness. You’ll see that, too. Hopefully you’re finding yourself in better times than we were when our story was captured. Although, I doubt it. The world is ugly and only getting uglier. But what we created in the midst of chaos was so, so exquisite.

When she came along and proposed telling our tale, I checked her track record. You sure? This is…different for you. We are…different. But she wanted to be challenged. Something about those artsy types. They have the craziest imposter syndrome. Don’t ever get that sense of fulfillment. Always trying to stretch and grow and prove.

So she was sure. So we started to talk. I could see the excitement tap-dancing in her pupils as I recalled our extravagant meeting. The intensity of our pull. All of the details. She wanted to capture it all. Every emotion hanging in the air between us before we even spoke words to one another. The way my heart grew feet and ran away from me when we locked eyes. She wanted it all. My good. My bad. My ugly. My heartache. My desires. I didn’t realize how personal we would get. I thought books made people sound great. The girl was pretty and confident, kept the man on a chase. The guy said and did all the right things that men don’t really say and do but women writers make them. They’re muscular, testosterone-bred six-feet plus models of perfection who never lie or cheat and have wild anger issues but only to everyone else in the world except their women. Where’s that author? “I thought you wanted to write a love story? Don’t you have a reputation to protect?” And with the blankest look, with a slight smile and just a tinge of arrogance under her humility, Mrs. TA looked at me and replied, “You must not know me or my reputation.” At first, it worried me. Now, I like it. Because I see the vision. She looks at us objectively. She gives a voice to our reasons – the what ifs, the whys, the considerations. She humanizes the flawed. She condemns the close-minded. She tells my story in a way no one else could have.

So, I’m Brae. If you attended her intimate event, you got a sneak peek into me. But if you know her, then you know she didn’t give you much at all. It’s all left in these pages. And it’s coming your way, soon and finally. But not before you land safely from your parachute ride. I look forward to you meeting me…to meeting us. Maybe we can help some people, too. Or better yet…maybe you can help me. Because, chile, your girl desperately needs it. - Brae