Part One
Our love story begins in the loft. It’s another beautiful Baltimore night with old friends, drinking Brewers Art Ozzy, and listening to 90’s punk rock courtesy of his archaic 2nd generation iPod that seems to be everywhere he is. A conversation ensues reminiscing over old times. “What do you think man? I feel like if she didn't acknowledge the flowers in any way, a text is probably the most appropriate mode of communication.” Advice on whether or not to call or text the girl the ‘child’ has been with for four & a half years is much needed. It’s her birthday and they hadn’t been talking.
Maybe our story begins on a drunken bullet rye filled weekday night in April, alone in the loft barraging HIM on the theory of blessings. The child has been told by all that love him, one day he will be broken, and everything that appeared so easily will spill through his fingers. “Fuck you! Just fuck off.”
Or here; begins with a trip home to Detroit in 2014 for Memorial Day, surrounded amongst all the loved ones the ‘child’ cares most for. Yes, here where the longing and chasing meet in one distinct moment.
Perhaps it begins on a stunning July 4TH night, when a beautiful, soulful and deeply enchanting woman, aged twenty four, wearing red lipstick on her perfect brown skin, pulls up in her car smiles to a best friend a smile so full of unadulterated love, it made the ‘child’ question his understanding of the word.
It may have been in the daily and continuous pursuit of false treasures and successes in the form of worldly gain.
The love story could’ve possibly started with the lost child struggling to find his light and sense of purpose. It had been a lifetime since he remembered who he really was.
I am the child. I am the child of 33 years. The sensitive child. The kind and generous child that creation waits in eager expectation. I am the child rallied for great things.
This love story began in a suburb of metro Detroit in summer 1989. The third child of one of the great love affairs was about to be born to a tall, blonde haired, blue eyed, independent woman created to make the world laugh and to a dark haired, extremely handsome Italian man created to serve and let his love show. He was given the name Alexander which means leader of men, and was dedicated to HIM, in hopes that the collective love would pave a path of light forever on.
This is where the love story began but is not where we are going to pick up…
-A.D. Verville