“I know you can’t bring every single one you meet home…” – Drake, “Put It Down”
Seasons and reasons. The two methods people come in and out of our lives. And more often than not, the wildest times in life result from the people who disappear as quickly as they arrive. Maybe a year ago, possibly a year and a half, my buddy introduced me to a friend of his fiancé’s. Because I was close with both he and the future Mrs. Friend Of Mine – and seeing a picture beforehand – not much hesitation was involved.
She was employed with a great company. She had a nice place in a safe neighborhood. And she made good money. Not that I was after that, but the comfort of being reassured such helped cushion the situation. Fast forward a few weeks, and we’re kicking it every so often. There’s no real dates involved. Instead, we’d always end up routinely meeting at bars, cookouts and things of that nature. The strip club, too. Come to think of it, she never cooked any of the times I visited. I can’t even remember seeing a dirty dish or any evidence that she ever put in work in the kitchen. The only items in her refrigerator were wine, an occasional pizza box, leftover food from Cheesecake Factory and, of course, pineapples. In any event, there was no discussion of “what this was” or “where we were heading.” We were young. We had things going for ourselves. Most importantly, we enjoyed each others company, especially drunk.
In the back of our minds, however, what we were was “temporary.” That’s all we wanted. Hell, that’s all we needed. Things continued between us for maybe five or six more weeks. Then, as effortlessly as autumn leaves replaced the warm nights and colder drinks of summer, we were over. No calls. No texts. No Twitter. Nothing. And personally, it shouldn’t have been any other way.
We weren’t meant for one another. Instead, we were compatible at that short period of time during our mid-20s; the sensitive age where living carefree is only rivaled by the looming expectation of commitment. Not every person we meet is meant to be in our weddings or the ones we send Christmas cards to every year. Sir Michael Rocks’ Teyana Taylor-featured “Reservations” video – from August’s Lap Of Lux – conjured memories of said nearly-forgotten point in my life, and should more than likely revert everyone back to a relationship of the same ilk. The Bonnie and Clyde theme represents a dope flip as well, complimenting the overall vibe Cardo lays forth with an instrumental as under-the-influence as a blunt of kush and shot of Henny.
Dealing with people and understanding how they can impact life positively – especially in the short-term – mirrors the drug game (or so I’ve heard). You get in, get what you need, and get out. The longer we stay, the more risk we run at jeopardizing everything.