Unknown Love

By Allecyn A. G. Howard

Unknown Love is the journey of two people, Erin Johnson and Peyton Alexander, who want the classic fairytale but lack the blueprint for what to do when love gets real. After spending their first summer together, Peyton knew that Erin was her soulmate, even if

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: May 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885041560

Book preview

Unknown Love

Allecyn A.G. Howard

New Degree Press

Copyright © 2022 Allecyn A.G. Howard

All rights reserved.

Unknown Love

ISBN

979-8-88504-504-9 Paperback

979-8-88504-607-7 Kindle Ebook

979-8-88504-156-0 Ebook

For those whose love has been (at first) unrequited. 

Every woman I have ever loved has left her print upon me where I loved some invaluable piece of myself apart from me so different that I had to stretch and grow in order to recognize her. And in that growing we came to separation, that place where work begins.

-Audre Lorde

Author’s Note

When I was younger, I always dreamed I would meet the person I was destined to be with. The story I imagined paralleled many of the popular fairytale classics I know and love. What was missing from those stories was the element of time and the struggle it takes for two people to be in sync with each other at the same moment.

Time allowed for life to happen and for the person I loved to truly reveal herself. I created my own fairy tale which paled in comparison to stories I had been told. This story is not riddled with all the plot twists one would expect from the movies, but there are relatable elements I believe resonate with most people who have ever been in love.

I first met my wife in 2005 when I was a student in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. When we reconnected and became a couple twelve years later, I realized our narrative paralleled great love stories I’d read about with two significant exceptions. They never starred people like us—Black and queer identifying women—and they never showcased all that goes into building a life in pursuit of happily ever after. That’s when I knew this story had to be written.

For as long as I have been an avid reader, stories with same-sex characters, particularly those who succumb to love, seem to be rooted in the physicality of love and lust. The hyper-sexualization of this character type has a tendency to alienate readers, such as myself, who desire a more storybook approach to the evolution of love. Stories of same-sex persons also occasionally have a tendency to be undermined by the assumption family or religion serve as a barricade to these relationships. This can lead to feelings of loneliness, which is the catalyst to depression in LGBTQ people. While this may not be true in all cases, it is often traumatic to read about that level of isolation, especially if a similar experience impacted you.

Love like mine has existed and been written about, but not as explicitly as this and frequently from an erotic perspective. Heteronormativity, the idea heterosexuality is the only valid sexual orientation, and structures of White supremacy and patriarchy dominate the love story narratives that line the bookshelves of mainstream society. If more stories like mine were shared more broadly, they would give young people who question their ability to love and be loved hope for what is possible. There are far more of us who experience love in the margins than most would think.

Personally, I have always believed in the power of love. I have always loved love stories, despite not seeing my identity reflected in these tales. I hold space for the presence of others’ stories in my book by sharing their language through my words. Unknown Love is for those of us who want to see our story represented by one of us. This is a universal story many people, regardless of their sexual orientation, share.

While this is a pervasive stereotype about lesbians that has been placed on the community for some time, not all of us move quickly. This hastening has been dubbed U-Hauling. Once you meet someone, you hook up, and within two weeks you move in together and begin planning your happily ever after. And while it is possible to meet someone and fall in love fast, this is not that story. The relationship that evolves between Peyton and Erin takes place over a ten-year span of time. It is operatic and foreign. An experience contrary to conventional media’s message that would lead one to believe love happens overnight. The bottom line is reaching such a level of devotion to another human being can, and often does take time.

Writing Unknown Love has been a therapeutic journey of reflection. This book is a modern story showing the ebbs and flows in a relationship between two Black women navigating unchartered territory. This is not the narrative I was exposed to when I was learning to love. It is the story I needed to know existed when I was coming into my own identity. And though Erin and Peyton’s story is not the treasure trove of joyous occasions often touted when learning someone new, it is hopeful. Its existence may have saved me from some of the trauma I experienced early in my love life. 

I was once given the advice long-term love lasts because both people never fall out of love at the same time. At least one person has to show up every day to keep the journey alive. 

Love is a verb. It takes action and time. More often than not, it takes a lot of time. Love is also the link that translates across all differences. Loving someone else fully has been one of my most challenging undertakings. Choosing to give all that is required to a life partner takes unlearning what I envisioned it should be and leaning into what it is. It is not copy and paste. Despite similarities to others’ stories, both fictional and real, romance ultimately becomes what the people involved make of it.

one.

It wasn’t until the moment I sang out, You’re no good for my health... that I realized no one knew where I was. Beyonce´s Poison was blasting through the speakers of my small rental car as I drove down Baltimore-Washington Parkway toward DC. I was finally going to get closure with Erin, whom I hadn’t seen in over a year. 

I was heading to DC for one last meeting to tell her how I felt and apologize for everything that went down between us. Given I married Kelley and had a child without telling her, I had no expectations for anything. Not even forgiveness. 

I don’t know why I felt the need to have this meeting with Erin, but I did. She had given me no indication she wanted to talk to me, let alone see me.

Less than forty-eight hours before arriving in Baltimore, she agreed to meet me face to face one last time. I left my office in Little Rock and drove six hours to Atlanta, a midway point on my chosen route. It would only be ten more hours to get to DC, but because I hadn’t slept since this whole idea popped into my head, I needed time to rest.

I hadn’t seen my parents in a few months but was too exhausted to entertain them when I arrived at their home south of Atlanta around 10 p.m. Instead, I retreated to one of the extra bedrooms in the back of the house to get some sleep before resuming my trip up I-85 to the Nation’s Capital. Between the anxiety of the inevitable and the noise from my family, sleep was amiss. I laid in bed imagining all the possible options I could take. 

There was a voice in my head egging me to go back home, but I had come too far to turn back now. Time definitely wasn’t on my side if I was going to make that drive in the morning. At some point between my worrying and trying to figure out my plan of action, I passed out. When I awoke the next morning, I sent Erin a text.

Can you meet me halfway?

I knew it was a long shot for her to agree, but I felt like I was all out of options. My idea was good in theory, but there were still too many details I should have figured out before I put this plan in motion. 

Why would I meet you halfway?

This was your idea. I have plans, so don’t worry about coming.

All of the air rushed from my body, and I went numb. Had I not been laying down, I’m sure I would have collapsed. I walked outside to get some fresh air. I’d been inhaling the stale smoky fumes caused by my parents’ incessant cigarette smoke since I’d arrived. I couldn’t breathe. I had to figure out what to do. This would haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t see it through. 

Never mind. I’ll figure it out and see you tonight.

Yo, I can’t go through with this! I told Dana as I paced on the front porch. It was early December, but in the South, the weather felt like late summer. She lived in California and had been one of my best friends since college.

Where are you? You don’t sound like you’re driving. Her voice ticked up at the end which meant she was worried.

I’m still in Atlanta. I’m tired of driving. She won’t meet me, so I don’t know what else to do but walk away. I sat down in a chair and shook my head. I was disappointed in myself. Another ambitious plan down the drain. 

You are going to meet her tonight if it’s the last thing you do! Do you have somewhere to stay?

After confirming the details, Dana booked me a roundtrip flight to Baltimore and a rental car. I’d return the next morning and drive back home. 

I confirmed my sleeping arrangement with my cousin and told her I’d see her later that evening. Not wanting to divulge too many details over the phone and have her talk me out of it, I told her I would fill her in when I got there if she stayed up. 

Once at the airport, I passed through security with just the clothes on my back: jeans, a button down, short-sleeved polo and matching red polo hat, and black golf jacket. My outfit was adequate enough for early December in Atlanta but an insult to the cold of the mid-Atlantic, as I would soon discover. 

As I walked to my gate, more panic set in. Was this really happening? I had no idea what to expect, but if I didn’t have a plan, the situation could get out of hand. I needed a drink. I called Dana back for a pep talk before stopping at a bar kiosk near my gate. Quickly, I downed the Jack and ginger before making my way to the plane.

Once on board, I took some notes in my phone before dozing off: No matter what happens, don’t raise your voice, don’t curse, and no crying. If she says she doesn’t love you, walk away and leave her alone. Forever!

Back on the ground, there was no turning back. 

Should I come to the Chateau?

That was the name I’d coined her house years before when we discovered our shared love of France. It seemed to stick. 

I was belting out my song when I finally received a response. 

No, I’m out.

How naïve to think when I told her I was on my way, she would forego her plans and wait with anticipation and baited breath for my impending arrival. Without a destination and no real time frame for when we would actually meet, my stomach reminded me of the neglect it had endured over the past thirty-six hours. 

I’ll meet you at the Lincoln. 

The National Mall is a beautiful sight to behold at night. The spotlights on the grounds illuminate the grandeur of the individual monuments and memorials, but only when I got close enough could I feel the magnitude of the moment. 

I had always loved the Lincoln Memorial. His distorted legacy resonated with me on so many levels. Though he is given credit for freeing enslaved people, that was not his primary goal. He wanted to end the Civil War and save the union. Abolishing slavery was a means to an end. He desired to do what was necessary, even if under the guise to serve a greater purpose. 

This gargantuan statue held another place in my heart and seemed most fitting for this occasion. In the fall of 2014, we had gone there on a date. The evening culminated in climbing the fifty-eight steps to arrive at the feet of the man who saved the union. It was a romantic gesture. One that remained with me always. Even in the face of what could become the worst day of my life at a place I deeply cherished.

After inputting the final destination in the map, I settled in for the remaining thirty-minute drive. I called my sister out of necessity. If I didn’t make it home tomorrow, or anytime thereafter, someone needed to know where I was. It seemed like the responsible thing to do. 

I’m in DC. I’m going to see Erin. 

I could tell she was taken aback. My sister is never short on words, and in this moment, her silence was deafening.

I needed to talk to her face-to-face. I need to know if she still has feelings for me.

"No. You want to know. But okay."

I hated when she was right. This wasn’t about that. I really did need to know. If only to put my mind at ease. 

Either way, be careful, she said like she was the older, wiser sister. 

I will. And if I’m not back by noon tomorrow, something is wrong…or right, I said with a smile. "I’ll let you know when I’m back