Every Girl I've Loved A Lifetime Ago

Aaliyah

Aaliyah talked fast, laughed loud, and wouldn't take your shit.
Her nails were always done long and colorful, her Afro frizzy and beautiful, her smirks enticing and seductive.
Aaliyah listened to Missy Elliot when I was trying to study, majored in economics, and always tipped the waitress way too much.
Her best friend hated me, but I thought she was funny enough.
Aaliyah adored comic books and always made fun of me for reading novels with no actual pictures.
Aaliyah kissed me slow and sweet, laughed abrupt and long, cried like tears were acidic and dangerous.
She was taller than me by two inches, tried to go vegan when she was twelve but gave it up at seventeen, and never lost a game of Mario Kart.
Aaliyah's sister said I was dope, her mom immediately loved me when I complimented her cooking, her dad was won over when he discovered I knew a lot about cars.
My roommate gave me grief about how much I brought Aaliyah over, but I knew they got along fine.
Aaliyah's dorm room smelled of weed, dirty socks, and vomit.
Her and her roommate, Gia, were competing to see who could have the messier side of the room by the time the semester ends.
I hated Aaliyah's uncleanliness, just as much as I hated her lenient spending.
When I was younger, I'd blow off money, not because I could afford it but because I didn't care.
Now, I do.
Aaliyah calls me cheap, I call her reckless. She called it none of my business, I call her bound for bankruptcy.
When Aaliyah was truly angry, she'd speak in a calm, controlled voice barely containing all her rage.
When I was truly angry, I'd let it all lose and scream my emotions out loud.
Anyone on the receiving end of my anger might get a shattered eardrum, but with Aaliyah, people feel uncomfortable, unsettled by the pent up tension in her tone.
She used that voice on me a lot.
I rarely used my voice on her.