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Waking up around 1 p.m.
Baked Cinnamon Brown Sugar Grapefruit. Black Tea with Honey.
Browsing basketball videos on Youtube.
Finishing Hey Princess by Mats Jonsson.
Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Salsa. Lemon Water.
I head to the Lynnhaven Middle School courts to work on my ball handling and dribbling. Of course I can’t resist joining a game with some of the other players on the court. It’s a 3-on-3 match with a mixture of kids and one other adult.
Mango. Strawberry Yogurt.
Show at The Shaq tonight. I dutifully pay the $5 cover and buy one of Emily’s Dark Chocolate Vegan Cake Pops. First on is Will’s new band project with Logan, Honorary Girl, which lights up the room with upbeat punk tunes, then Van rips up the stage with his ridiculous rap antics, then a band originally hailing from Texas called The Numerators put on a powerhouse set. Bamm Bamm is supposed to go on last but of course Josh, the drummer, is absent. This happened one other time at another show. No worries though I’m delegated to play drums even though I’ve never practiced with them. However I do know the structure of the songs so I rig up a three piece drum set (tom, hi-hat, and snare) and play as hard as I can. I’m fueled by a big can of Foster’s so everything feels hazy. Josiah refuses to play the songs he wrote so Jonathon Reynolds (on bass) and I just jam and follow Josiah in a loose rock n roll fashion.
...
After the show I had made plans to hang out with Ana. I follow her behind on the interstate to a Chanello’s to get a large Cheese Pizza with Green Peppers. Bringing it back to her house. Cooped up in her bedroom clobbering slices of pizza and drinking Peppermint Tea. Putting on the ghostly sounds of Dead Man’s Bones, Ryan Gosling’s music project, which I never heard of before tonight. Everything is distinct and I’m existentially aware of this new scenario with a special girl I barely know. It feels like a scene from that comic memoir I just finished reading, Hey Princess.
...
Her room contains a modest collection of owl paraphernalia and music books. I notice she owns the same bicentennial records of Beethoven’s music that I have. There’s an Albert Einstein poster on a black couch not hanging up. I also have an Albert Einstein poster. There’s a connection we both have to music. I still haven’t heard her play any kind of music but I know it’s something close to her because I see a lot of music related knick-knacks. We find a Patsy Cline cassette tape and put it on. The first song I remember my mom used to sing to me when I was a kid.
“Crazy. I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted…”
Without thinking I ask her to dance. There we are slow dancing to the romantic tunes of Patsy Cline. It feels nice to just sway and hold each other close. A newfound romance has begun...
...
While tumbling innocently on the floor amongst eucalyptus beads that were spilt days before, she nips the side of my face and neck with her lips and her butterfly-like eyelashes sometimes brushing by my ear, a sensitive spot that if licked and caressed by a mouth can lead to powerful feelings of desire and surrender. I’m reluctant at first but give in to a kiss eventually. They’re careful kind of kisses though, no tongue or anything like that, just wading in the warm water of the moment.
...
Something I’m noticing about Ana is how agreeable she is and quick to worry about my comfort. She’s constantly making sure that I’m comfortable and always asking “What?” even if I don’t say anything. Even a slight body movement on my part communicates to her that I might be displeased or have something to say. It’s kind of cute. I’ve never known anyone who is in a perpetual state of concern about the other’s wellbeing. I can’t tell if it’s an insecurity or if it’s just a positive part of who she is.
...
She keeps mentioning how she frequently drops things on the floor and breaks a lot of stuff on accident.
Me: “Do you do that with people’s hearts?”
Ana: “Sometimes. I have, but only because it was necessary.”
Me: “I did that too.”
...
It’s after 3 in the morning. We fold out the futon bed. The blinds from one of the windows are pulled up letting in the moody glow of a streetlamp. She’s not interested in sleeping even though she has to get up for work in a few hours. So we just lie there cuddling and feeling and looking and breathing and tasting.
Me: “Your legs are softer than I imagined.”
At certain points the tension is just too heavy and the desires heat up. We touch one another in pleasure. During the heavenly ecstatic instances she breathes hard and attempts to say things. At one point she mutters, “What did I do to deserve this?” I whisper back, “Shhh. Just relax. Don’t talk.” I continue. We continue. Stop. We take a break for a minute. I entertain the idea of going all the way. I have a condom in my book bag. But we both have our reservations. In the end there’s mutual consent. I wrap it up and we actually have sex. I tell her how beautiful she is. And it’s true. Her thick black hair drapes across her chest and back in such an elegant fashion. I’m smitten. She expresses her concern about not having endurance or something like that. I assure her that it’s okay.
...
While lying on the futon in relief I mention a lyric from Rilo Kiley, “Kissing leads to touching and touching leads to sex and then there is no mystery left.”
Me: “That’s one of my favorite lines.”
Ana: “It’s not true though.”
Me: “Yeah I don’t necessarily agree with it. But there is some truth to it.”
I pause and say, “You don’t even know me...yet. I don’t know you either.”
...
We initiate a deal between her and I: “Let’s not ever talk about our past relationships.”
Cause it’s irrelevant and could taint what’s happening now. I realize I’ve never done anything like this with anyone else. I’m hoping it will be successful as this little flame grows.
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