Java Scott: "Dear Love, I Wrote This to Move On."

Java Scott: "Dear Love, I Wrote This to Move On."
Posed by model. Photo: Clarke Sanders.

By Java Scott

Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope you see this.

More importantly, I hope you feel this.

I told you months ago I was writing you a letter, you just left before I got a chance to finish.

Here goes nothing…

Dear Love,

How come we were locals of the same city, but had never crossed paths?

Although I had gone twenty years of my life unaware of your existence, fortunately, on the day of your birth, you helped me breathe new life into forever.

By the grace of God, both of us took the road less traveled and ended up on a wild ride.


It was July 10th, 2016 when I scrolled Twitter to find your face plastered on my TL as if you were a local celebrity.

Come to find out from your fans, it was your birthday and everybody was on you like white on rice. I wasn’t following you at the time, but when I seen that avi, lisssssten, baby, I had to slide in okay?

I remember wishing you a happy birthday and your response to me was, “I don’t like attention.”

You embarrassed me in front of my friends, my family, and my Pastor.

From then on, I knew you were a NO GO…

Or so I thought.

July 13th rolled around and I made a visit to a friend’s for a little kickback. Feeling a little bit of the red wine (and myself), I posted a selfie. Cute little grey dress that hugged my hips, some comfy Toms for running in case things transpired, hair in a black Rapunzel braid, with the side smirk.

By this time, I forgot you even existed, chile.

Okay,yes, it was only three days later,*BUT* fool me one time, shame on you. Fool me once, I can’t get fooled again. I was the definition of a Beyonce, Nicki Minaj collab: feeling myself. And DEFINITELY not you after that stiff armed rejection.

Well, so I thought.

Somehow, my selfie gathered dust on your timeline, leading to the legendary tweet that began it all:

“That Java girl on my timeline cute.”

Just three days ago, you wouldn’t even give me a glance if I was a glass of water in the middle of the desert.  Now, all of a sudden, you think I’m cute?  Okay, sis.  Whatever you say. But being the forgiving woman of persistence I am, I slid into your DMs with the fire-ass greeting:

“Hey big head.”

Hook. Line. Sinker.


Again, I thought like shit.

You got my number and we texted for maybe all of two weeks.  We had a lot in common from music, to values, to faith.  You made me laugh until I cried and you were able to read even the most tucked parts of my mind.

You seemed perfect, a little TOO perfect, and I knew that I had to run.

I had already drilled into my head that there had to be something wrong with you and that that two week trial was enough, so I stopped talking to you.  I knew that by me just not responding to your texts, you would eventually leave me alone and I would be dodging a bullet.

Again, what did I do? I thought.

Months passed without contact, and I was okay with that.

I mean, even though we were both from Columbia, me being in Charlotte meant that I would never run into you or have some kind of awkward collision at the grocery store.  We had only texted for two weeks so I wasn’t emotionally attached.  I was getting back to just focusing on me and my life, not knowing that you never really left.  I didn’t know that you were just waiting on God’s cue.

I sat in my bed saying my nightly prayers.  I would talk to God every night about being the kind of woman that He would want me to be, but this particular night, I spoke to Him about the kind of man that I wanted, that I deserved.

I asked God to give me a man that was caring, passionate, and encouraging.

I closed out my plea to God by telling Him that I would wait as long as it took as long as the guy had those characteristics, and above all, a tightly bound relationship with Him.  I actually had a long list, but I remember those things for a specific reason.  As I hung up the line with God, you just so happened to be calling.  That night, ten minutes after my prayer, after not talking for months, you texted me:

“Hey I just wanted to tell you that you can do anything.  You have favor and God is on your side. Don’t give up.”

I haven’t ignored a call or text from you since.

You drew me in with a simple text.

We went from texting to falling asleep on the phone like teenagers.  You sent me thoughts of love and light at the beginning of each of my days and at the end of each of those newly sweetened days, you sang me to sleep until my snoring woke us both.  You listened to my rants and calmed my fits.  We bonded over Travis Scott, James Fauntleroy, and Frank. I was consistently being touched by angel I had never met.  So I decided to make you tangible.

I remember the day we decided to meet.  I lied and told you I had to come to Columbia to schedule classes for school.  It was the beginning of November.  Where the HELL could I possibly have been scheduling classes?  You knew I just needed an excuse to meet you.  So I drove to Columbia and we met at McDonald’s on Huger.  It took you thirty damn minutes to get there… from FARROW ROAD.  Although I was tired of waiting, the time you took gave me a chance to wrestle my anxiety.  I remember thinking that you would think that I was weird, or too tall, or too goofy, or too much of everything that I didn’t want you to think.

I remember seeing you walk in, look at me, then walk RIGHT back out and my heart fell. to. the. floor. You were a goner.

Or so I damn thought.

You walked back in and just sat down without saying a word, staring in my face.  I thought maybe I put on too much foundation or my wig was crooked or something.  When you finally spoke, my heart was able to beat again, but this time with a flutter.

“I’m sorry.  You’re just very beautiful.”

After laughing at the crowd in McDonald’s to break the ice, we moved to the car and you put me to the ultimate test.  You handed me the aux.  I knew that THIS would be the deciding factor.  Either you would bomb by not liking my music, or you would not know the words to some classics.  I knew that that would decide our fate.

I sang a verse of Thinking About You and we became entranced by the melody.

We sat in silence, staring at each other directly in the eyes for what felt like eternity.  You didn’t know it then, but I could never stare at somebody that long before without being goofy. But, you felt familiar.  Speaking of feeling, I wanted to feel your lips so bad, but I didn’t want you to run home and tell your sister that I was a hussie.  That was the first moment you ever read my mind, you asked for a kiss.

I grinned all the way back to Charlotte.  But a piece of me felt sad knowing that I had to leave.  I wanted to bask in your presence forever.  Those couple of hours with you felt like the start of forever and I wanted to know more, to feel more, to always be around you.

You came to me and we had our first official date.  You drove allll the way to Charlotte on that bad tire and you picked me up for a date.  You asked me what had to be 58 times where I wanted to go.  I had no clue, so we just drove.

I remember driving and Give You Love by James Fauntleroy graced the stereo.

We unintentionally met eyes, but I believe we met minds in the same moment.  We ended our cruise at a big, beautiful lake, and  with the view of an equally beautiful set of stars. We sat there for hours and let the music do all the talking.  When we did speak, it was nothing short of magic.  Four different times that night, you grabbed my hand and kissed it.

I knew, then, that you were the missing piece to life’s puzzle.


That was the night I fell in love.

For months, we talked about love and life, God and peace, you and I.  We became one mind.

Being apart became draining, and I decided to make that move back to Columbia.  It was hasty, but it wasn’t like I was moving to some foreign country, alone.  I was going back home. Regardless, I considered anywhere with you home, not knowing that theory would be put to the ultimate test.

January 14th, I found myself homeless.

No house, no bed, no couch, not even my car to sit in and think.  I remember calling you and telling you to meet me at a Starbucks.  Before you had pulled up, I sat there crying, praying, asking God why this had happened to me.  I saw your little silver car arrive and I felt God telling me that I was taken care of.  I had only known you for like 5 months at this point and there was no way I expected you to help me.

You got me in the car, drove to a secluded spot, held my hand, and you let Travis Greene sing “You Keep Me” through your speakers.

I looked over and saw you subtly wipe tears from your eyes at the end of your prayer.  You then drove me to warm blankets and Bojangles for breakfast.  I woke up absolutely astounded.  I had met a man that had decided to take care of me, no judgement, no questions, no hesitation, while simultaneously allowing God to lead.

Right then, I knew.  This wasn’t anything that I could comprehend, but it was everything I needed to understand.

You prayed for me, held my hand, walked with me right into the door of a new home.  A home where we slept on the floor, ate on the floor, hell, damn near became the floor.  But each moment on that carpet with you felt warmer than any bed I have ever had the pleasure of sleeping in.

We became a unit.  I had found my whole and I never wanted to be a half again.

You sold clothes for shared Chinese plates.

We shared gas.  Both in the car and the body.

We watched Baruto until I was dreaming in Japanese.

We picked each other’s noses and drank each other’s last sip of “drank.”

We had arguments in the mall parking lot about dumb things.

We pissed your sister off by annoying her in her sleep.

We prayed in times of turmoil and in times of joy.

You rubbed my back every night.

You kissed my head every morning.

You laughed at my singing, but not at my jokes.

You challenged me to do better than I did the day before.

You picked me up when I wanted to drop everything.

You cleaned my scars, literally and figuratively.

You made me feel.

You made me heal.

You drew me close when I pushed you away.

You fell out of love.

July 10th, the birth of our love, turned into its death.

Months passed, when you decided to take me to the lake, kiss me, and half whisper you love me.  I had never felt you so somber, so dismantled, so drained.  I knew then, that you had given all that you could, and that at that moment, I knew.  This wasn’t anything that I could comprehend, but it is still everything I wish to understand.

We were locals from the same city who had never met.  Now we’re strangers in that same city.

But although we are now traveling two different roads, my path will always lead me to yours if need be.  I loved, I laughed, I LIVED with you.

I wrote you this letter for my peace.

I wrote you this to say thank you.

I wrote you this to say sorry.

I wrote you this to move on.

I wrote you this because I love you.

Thanks for everything,


Java is a talented 21-year-old writer and blogger. Follow her on Twitter @_ApplaudJava

Java is a talented writer and blogger. Follow her on Twitter @_ApplaudJava.

Java Scott is a talented writer and blogger.

“My goal in life as a vessel is to heal through words, however that may be,” Java says.

Follow her on Twitter: @_ApplaudJava.

Photography: Clarke Sanders.


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