Friday May 18 2012

[i]

It’s early in the morning – daylight shines dimly through the shades. She’s lying sweetly beside me. We’re both half awake. I assume the big spoon position. I try to convince myself this is some kind of hazy dream, everything...her showing up last night at random, wanting my touch and comfort. And here she is...touching and stroking with anticipatory pleasure. I’m dying of desire right now. I return the pleasure and not long after I’m pumping her from behind while she emits emphatic responses. God I missed this. Her. Me inside her. The ecstasy. It still feels natural and good...at least in this moment. For years she’s been the only one worthy of fucking. Afterwards we lie down out of breath and cuddle...

Me: “So the boys must’ve not been hitting you up last night.”

Her: “No.”

Me: “I can’t always be your default you know.”

I start relaying to her the events from last night and recite quotes from her ridiculous drunken monologue. We both find humor. But she refuses to hear anymore.

Me: “I want you to listen to yourself.”

Her: “No. I don’t want to hear it.”

Me: “You need to hear what you put people through.”

...

Me: “I was on a detox and my drug just showed up at my door.”

Her: “Start over.”

Me: “No. But I’ve been making emotional progress.”

She mentions some new male names in conversation. One I remember her bringing up before...

Me: “Did you kiss him?”

Her: “Yeah. But he has a girlfriend.”

I’m not as affected as I would’ve been weeks ago.

Me: “It’s okay. I figured you would try to branch out right away.”

...

Me: “I haven’t kissed anyone yet. But I’ve been seeing new people.”

Her: “You’ve been seeing some bitches?”

She gets slightly possessive and threatens to “slap a bitch”.

Her: “They need to know what they’re dealing with.”

I giggle in response.

Her: “They need to know who you belong to.”

Me: “What? I don’t belong to anyone.”

This whole conversation is playful and sweet though and not so dismal as I might’ve expected it to be. A few I love you’s are exchanged. And I instigate one more sex session.

...

She’s leaving now. We stand there looking longingly into each other’s eyes for a minute.

Her: “Bye bye.”

Me: “Bye bye beautiful.”


Iced Oatmeal Breakfast Bar. Orange Juice.


Running errands. Organizing all my stuff at the new storage unit.


Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Salsa. Raspberry Lemonade.


Kristin’s here now. We hang out in the living room. Browsing through her iPod...

Me: “How do you not have all of the Smashing Pumpkins albums? You only have half of Mellon Collie!”


[ii]


Subtle affection on the couch. Then we migrate upstairs to my room. In the bed we discover something...a chemistry...an overwhelming sensual chemistry. I was reserved before but now passion takes another turn. I’m blindsided – kissing someone else for the first time in a long time and it feels right – a shared intensity. Her lipstick smears around her mouth created by the behavior of my lips, which continue to explore the geography of her neck and shoulders. Both of us mesmerized...

We halt and take a break from the fire. She looks up at me and says, “I think that was really good chemistry.”

Me: “I couldn’t agree more.”

Her: “You’re so adorable...I like you. Do you like me?”

Me: “Yes.”

Her: “What have you sucked me into? Like, I’m here. This is real. Like, it’s more real than I’ve had in a long time.”

She tries to assure me despite this epiphany that there’s no pressure into anything serious. In other words, it’s okay to simply enjoy the moment and not worry about strings attached just yet.

...

We get ready to head out. She’s taking precious time putting on her makeup. Playful talk...

Her: “Dude I’m way cooler than any of those people you hang out with.”

Me: “Have some humility.”

Her: “I’m just a pawn in your game in getting over things.”

Me: “No. That’s only partially true.” 

...

Then, we’re off to the storage unit. Josiah and James Nee are there playing music. I’m offered a PBR. Josiah enlightens us all on his theory about universalism in music. She’s starving and so am I.




Driving home.

All the spots are taken up on our court. I go on a one-PBR-drunk-tantrum about parking spaces.

Me: “I can’t even park in my own parking lot! I deserve respect in this neighborhood!”

I’m being more than halfway sarcastic and she finds it humorous. I find a far away spot on the street.

...

Inside. She allows me to prepare dinner to appease her appetite.

Beer-Glazed Black Beans with Coconut Oil, Onions, Garlic, Kale, Mushrooms, and Rice.

Kristin: “This is such a China Wok dish.”

Me: “I can’t help it. I love these one dish meals.”




Afterwards, we’re back in my bed experiencing more and more of that endorphin-inducing chemistry. No sex though. Just passionate teaser trailers. As hot as this heat is between us there is an apprehension for obvious reasons not to rush into things. She’s comfortable enough to spend the night. And here I am sleeping next to another when the night before, Margot was here. It wasn’t fair that she just showed up like she did...entitled as if she still has a place in my life. It’s weird to even think that, when 3 weeks ago she did have that royal right. I feel bad not telling Kristin about it but I don’t want to disrupt the flow of what’s blossoming. I prefer to not bleed relationships into one another. The thing that happened with Margot wasn’t even a concession and only an aftershock. I don’t put a lot of stock into the event. So I leave this story out of Kristin’s knowledge for the time being. It’s sort of detrimental. It’s not the right time to tell.

...

For now, I just want to enjoy this new company. She’s so bright and animated and full of cartoonish humor – hitting me with my baby pillow in certain moments – making fun of my eastern religion pants and what she calls my “kitchenette” area. For some reason this ignites an unstoppable laughter. These are gratifying moments. We can be ourselves around each other. This is good.


Off to sleep eventually around 4 a.m.


[i] Magnificent Ruin. Huebucket.
[ii] All other images by Kristin and me.

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