DREAM: On vacation in Florida somewhere. A hotel room. Three beds. I’m lying down on the bed by the window. Across the way an unfamiliar girl around my age is lounging on another bed, naked. She explains to me that if she “wants to have sex with somebody I’ll buy them a gift as a sign or a hint.” I’m feeling attracted to her but not certain anything will happen. My dad is sitting next to me commenting on the white notepad I have in my hand. He wants to look at it but I’m reluctant, “This is private. It’s just my to-do lists and thoughts.” In the next scene, I’m riding through the city on this non-electrical Segway—more like a unicycle with no handlebars and a seat, but this one has two wheels. Its late evening, still daylight. The tourists are crowding the streets making it difficult to maneuver around them. I shoot down a brick stairway and into a train station. I’m at the top of an escalator that leads down where the train runs. Looking at the signs and billboards to figure out which train and stop I need to take. I pull out my map and a printed white sheet with information on the city. A security guard is standing next to me acting impatient, like I should already know my plans. I decide not to bother with it. I head into the big lobby—lots of people sitting and waiting. I stride all the way over to the far corner and lean my head against the glass windows. Just outside I observe a small family playing a game of kickball on the grass. It’s a kiddie size field. The bases are these old stone ovens overgrown into the ground. There’s a brook running through it. The boy kicks the yellow ball that’s pitched to him and runs with ease over the crevice of water. I pull out my digital camera only to find that the corner of it has been chipped off. I don’t remember that happening. A security guard approaches me from outside behind the window and it’s understood I shouldn’t be taking pictures. A woman and a man introduce themselves to me on the inside. Just as I meet them, it starts raining and flooding everywhere outside. A dangerous storm as begun. The wind is so strong it even blows the cars out of direction. All of a sudden I’ve hopped into a school bus with the woman and the man. We ride through the storm and make it safely out of there. I don’t know where they’re going. “Wait, what beach are guys going to?” I show them my map but I can’t remember the name of the beach where I’m staying. The man says that it’s the same one they’re going to. We arrive. I get out and feel a gentle breeze. No storm here and the sun is still shining.
Waking up at 5:30 p.m.
Grabbing Orange Juice and Zinc to go.
Work at China Wok.
Driving in the Bay Colony area, which is her neighborhood. I spot a dead raccoon curled up in the middle of the road. Oh the symbolism. I am that tragic raccoon, lifeless. And she’s the fortunate fox still prowling around, full of life.
I sent her a message last night and posted that piano song. I wasn’t expecting a response but at the same time I wanted one. She calls me in the middle of work. And I won’t be able to talk to her later because when I get off work she’ll be preoccupied at some party. So I hold the phone while I’m driving and in the midst of grabbing orders. It’s just not the best time because work is busy and I’m distracted and my boss is calling me. I’m stressed and rushed. But I persist to stay on the phone. I’m translating my emotion to her and trying to come to a conclusion. At one point I say, “I just love you so fucking much!” and my eyes get heavy and I start bawling right before I have to walk up to a customer’s door. I sense her pity but she doesn’t really know what to say except for, “I’m sorry….I just want you to feel better….I miss you.” I fight the contortion of my shaking and frowning lips just enough to say, “This is pathetic…” Trying to figure out why I’m taking this so hard. I mention the possible correlation to my sister’s death back in the 90’s. I was young and I never properly grieved over her. And whenever I experience a feeling of loss in my life and especially losing Margot, it feels like a death. Death. That’s what it is in my mind. Psychologically, I’m taken back in time. Phew, all this introspection is really exhausting. I can’t wait for normalcy.
In the backseat sits a pile of yesterday’s newspapers. They’re always back there because I have to collect and return them to the plant. Recalling something that was said yesterday when Rachel was sitting on the newspapers. “Stop sitting on a pile of yesterdays.” That’s exactly what I’m doing.
Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.
Daybreakers [2010].
Leisa Haddad offers her outsider insight:
“When she was first chasing after you, you were kind of aloof, no? She prevailed and you did also and the “relationship started" officially then I guess. Did you always have feelings for her? I don’t know. Were you enamored by the fact that someone was enamored with you? Probably partially at least, who isn’t? especially men, especially leos.”
“You said something about how when you’re aggressive she caves and you guys hook up but that’s not going to happen all the time, it’s going to get too predictable.”
“You want to know if she wants to be with you, you think she still has feelings for you, she probably does but I feel like you have to let her come to those conclusions on her own. Giving space is important, and not obvious space, like “we need time apart.” You should try not to allow your personal feelings to force you into rash decisions, i.e. sending messages to her potential new lover. Does that turn her on? The male fighting over her dynamic.”
“It’s easy to get caught up in negative patterns but ultimately, theatrics and jealousy can become just as monotone as anything else. You have to stop trying to figure out what makes you attractive to her unless its totally natural for you to do. She obviously was into you when you weren’t attempting to gauge her needs in the moment.”
“I feel like it’s great that you’re so open about what’s going on in your life, it’s almost like performance art. Sometimes I think though that it’s starting to identify you too much. You feel obligated to yourself to put these conversations and experiences out there. I don’t know why. Maybe the idea just fascinates you or you have a great need for people to understand what’s going on in your life. You want to be honest, but do you want everyone to know ever detail of how you feel, including her? Don’t you want people or her to wonder about you, or have a sense of mystery? You seem like an extremist in that way.”
“The point is, you can’t make someone else interested in you, I know, when they are they will be and when they’re not they aren’t and then it’s up to you to decide if you are into them still.”
“I have made grand gestures. It doesn’t work. Being subtle is better. I have written many songs. But when I play those songs around said person or send an mp3 or something it’s not so literal and I’m not staring them down asking them what do you think of this? What do you think of how I feel? You might just be disappointed. You have to wait for them to come to how they feel about it on their own. There are so many wonderful opportunities to make a scene but that doesn’t mean they all need to be taken.”
“I know you are a very emotional and passionate person but it may be doing you a disservice in this circumstance in this time period. You need to allow. That’s probably what I would say the most, allow for her to make her own decisions even if you hate what she’s doing. I don’t know if you guys will get back together and I don’t necessarily think that just because two people love each other they will either. Unfortunately, life is more complicated. But, I do know and understand the value of giving space.”
“Whatever the relationship is like, don’t you want it to be beautiful, don’t you want it to evolve and grow into something? If you feel like it can then allow for that to take place by whatever means. I do not mean to tell you to cut all contact but it does seem like you guys still spend a lottt of time together. Nothing wrong with that, but how is either of you supposed to figure out how you feel about the other when you’re right in each other’s faces being faced with every issue that comes up romantically or otherwise?”
Working on the Google exam.
Eating Peach Yogurt with Fresh Mango.
[POSSIBLE EXPLICIT CONTENT UP AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. HOWEVER, IT IS IMPORTANT TO THE STORY.]
I’m surprised to get a phone call from Margot.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“I’m just on the computer working on stuff.”
Even after I tell her I need to be at work in 30 minutes she insists on coming over.
She’s all dolled up in 80’s attire—black tights and a green one-piece—frizzy hair—glittery chest. “You look cute.”
In my room. I sense a sexy heat coming off her, “You’re in a frisky mood with me. This is different.” She came over with one thing in mind. I knew what she wanted. And I know what I want. I mean, why not? I’d rather it be me than some stranger.
We kiss. We touch. And with abandon. There she is now—standing there in complete naked form, just the way I remember. I miss this. To be able to look at her in this way again. I feel lucky. I feel blessed. I feel honored to be serving the queen of my kingdom, the queen of my heart, the queen of my desire. I’ve got her on the bed and I’m kneeling over that sacred spot—glossing the honey pot as my hands take their rightful place. I am the artisan of her ecstasy. I like being in charge—the one in control—the one who can induce pleasure in her. I feel needed. And that’s important.
Unfortunately, I cannot get it up. My guy is just not ready. There’s no lack in attraction, so that’s not the problem. I think it’s my body protecting me for the time being. I mean, I cried to her on the phone earlier today. I’m still tender. Plus, I feel rushed because I’m late for work. She’s disappointed. In an urgent tone as if this is my last chance she says, “Now is the time. This is your opportunity.” I’m not worried. I’m certain you’ll be back again. I apologize and assure her I’m satisfied. I wanted her to feel good. And that in return makes me feel good.
Newspaper route.
Even after I washed my hands I can still smell the stain of her essence on them.
I promise you I will have more stamina next time. Over the course of this trial I can lose the emotional tie and be able to give way to blunt sexual needs.
Eating a Blueberry Muffin and Coffee from 7-11.
Don’t feel like you used me. I mean, you did, and so did I. But it’s okay. At first, I was thinking this would be harmful. But I actually think in a way it’s helpful. It’s a transition that is doable. I can place this real love in an indestructible vault way in the back of my soul for another time, for the time when you realize that I am your man. For now, it’s freedom. It’s adventure. Be safe my darling. I’ll always be here for your indulgence.
It’s true. I do feel better.
Dinner: Cod Fillets. Broccoli. Artesian Garlic Bread.
Playing some guitar.
Sleep 10 a.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment