What The F**k Just Happened?!

So there I was. I was living my life and enjoying it. Alone. For once. Then for some unknown reason I dug out the crumpled piece of paper you gave me. Unfolded it and slowly typed the digits written there into my phone. Boom. Message sent.

At first it seemed like I had waited too long. You didn’t respond for hours. Then there it was. There you were. I didn’t know what to think initially. Scratch that. I thought you were like the rest. Pervy and looking for something quick and fast. So I put you off. I wanted to meet you but not quite at the speed you had in mind. Skipping forward two days finds us on my couch, hands clasped and me dying for you to kiss me.

Then you did. That’s when it happened. I went from hours and days alone to minutes. You were everywhere. On my phone, in my bed, in my head. I was almost ready to fall.

You had me right there and then you stepped away. I don’t know if it was fear or disinterest. All I know is now my phone doesn’t ring as often. I feel alone without the benefit of actually being alone and somehow I’d rather it be this way. It’s this or I face the possibility of you leaving as suddenly and completely as you appeared.

For me it’s not just the drugs and the sex. It’s you and the strength I see. The good man that’s at your core. The vulnerability that makes you cut off all your emotions. This is what pulls me in. The mystery. The puzzle of what makes a person like you tick.

What is it about me that tells you that you can awaken emotions in me that I thought impossible. Why is it ok for you to kiss me senseless and then leave? I went from functioning as a single individual to feeling almost helpless without you near me.

I’m not going to be that girl however. Even thought your charm may have put me off balance for a moment I’m back now. We’ll see if you have the courage to love me when I’m strong or when I’m difficult. I think you might. Something in my gut tells me that you and I are in this in a big way.

So here’s to hoping you are more than you seem and that I am as strong as I think.


The Stranger

I’m lying in bed. The room is hot and my mouth feels like a desert. I run my dry tongue over my cracked lips and reach out eyes still closed towards my nightstand for the bottle of water I know should be there. Finally my hand makes contact with the plastic bottle and I open it and hold it over my open mouth in a fluid motion. The warm water cascades into my mouth and I drink until the bottle runs dry.

I can now open my eyes. I have to use my fingers to peel them open and I blink trying to clear my contacts of the typical eye gunk and the makeup from the night before. It is bright even with my curtains shut and I close my eyes again. My head is pounding and I realize I am naked. Once again I open my eyes panicked about my surroundings.

It is my room and my house which I should have realized from finding the water but my brain isn’t thinking in lines but rather dashes. I stretch out my body and a sharp pain runs up my leg. Moving my covers I see the bruise and wonder at its appearance.

Then I hear it. The even sounds of another being’s breathing. Deep slow breathing marking the maker of the sound to be still deeply asleep. I move two pillows and a blanket to reveal a man beside me. His arm is thrown across his face and his mouth is open slightly. He looks peaceful.

I rise from my bed and do a quick scavenger hunt to turn up a pair of enormous sweats and an even bigger hoodie which I quickly pull on to hide my nakedness from the unconscious stranger who in all likely hood is already familiar with the scene.

I wander through my house attempting to avoid stepping on my felines as they weave around my ankles. I seek out my advil and pour four into my hand and dip my head under my kitchen faucet to wet my mouth enough to swallow my headache cure. Too bad the ibuprofen can’t remedy other things that aren’t right on this morning.

I then walk to my bathroom and look in the mirror. My reflection is strange. Transformed by the double gin and tonics I couldn’t put down the night before. My skin is clear and almost translucent with no traces of the redness that typically shows up around my nose and cheeks. My make up has been completely rubbed off but my eyes are bright and clear. My hair is tousled but still presentable and I smile at myself.

Good morning to me.

Then I see my purse on the counter and I rifle through it to find my phone. I open my contacts menu and search for the number I need and soon I hear the ringing as I wait to be answered. The man on the other end asks me where I want to be picked up and I give him my address quickly. I end the call and walk back to my bed and climb in.

The motion of the bed seems to shake the man awake and he rolls on his side and reaches out to hold me. Disappointment flickers in his brown eyes as his hands meet cloth instead of skin. He leans in to kiss my lips and I hold him back with my hand. He looks at me questioningly. Little does he know everything has changed.

I’m not the girl I was the night before when he met me. I am not full of charm and smiles. I don’t find his physical advances appealing. In fact more than anything in the world I wished that the twenty minutes I must wait for rescue could have been twenty seconds.

He opens his beautiful mouth to speak and I cut him off. I tell him he has ten minutes to collect his belongings as I have taken the liberty of arranging for him to make is way back to wherever it is he came from. He looks relieved though he tries to hide it. He didn’t want to do the awkward morning either. Had he been in any condition he might have been one that snuck out while I was asleep.

We hear the horn at the same time and he starts to walk towards the door. He looks back at me nestled in my bed and he grins. We both know that this is it. The end of the stolen time we carved for ourselves and miraculously we are both glad. I hate it when they are sad. I close my eyes and listen as my door closes behind him and the gravel crunches under the tires of the taxi.

I stand and remove my clothes and slide back into my microfiber sheets enjoying the feel of the softness on my bare skin. My stomach is still in knots and my headache, while it has faded, is still right there with me. None of this matters though. I’m finally me again. The girl from last night and all her frivolous ways and actions without thought of consequence has gone with the stranger.

I close my eyes and before I can even give thanks for the return of myself sleep takes me and the world goes blissfully black again.

Cold Feet

I know this guy. He looks like a typical cute kind of guy. Tall with pure blue eyes and a mop of curly dark blond hair. Then he smiles and I can feel it in my gut and my toes. That grin should probably be given some sort of surgeon general warning. Or at the very least have a strict set of laws governing its use.

It isn’t just his physical appearance that gets me either. The smile is all well and good but what really pulls me in is that I know exactly what his smile says. I can read the thoughts in his eyes and tell by the set of his shoulders exactly what demon he’s fighting at that moment.

He’s not a simple guy. He’s lost, selfish, addicted, frightened, vulnerable and oh so susceptible to the judgement of everyone around him. Even when he sleeps his brow is furrowed and he is curled up tightly on his side as if even in the peace of slumber there are things to fear.

He breaks my heart everyday. Watching him lose the battle he’s not even fighting takes it’s toll on me. I know he didn’t ask me to stay but he knows he’s the reason I’m around. I was in too deep before I even knew what that would mean.

My phone goes off at two a.m. I know it’s him because he’s the only person with a set ringtone. I’m warm in bed and vision is blurry but I reach out for the phone and squint through the brightness of its screen to see his most recent plea for me and the comfort I provide. Damned if I don’t relish the thought of being one of the only things that does comfort him.

I crawl out of my bed disturbing my cats who switch their tales and glare at me reproachfully. As if they know that this has happened one too many times. I pull on the closest sweats and sweater and quickly check to sure my appearance is one that is alluring but natural.

Flash forward twenty minutes and I’m standing outside his place waiting for him to open the door. I take a drag off my cigarette and look up into the sky wondering if I should text him again to let him know I’m here but decided against it. I have my back to the door but I hear the door knob turn and I face him. His hair is a mess and he’s in his glasses. Our eyes meet and hold before he drops my gaze and shuffles outside to join me.

We exchange hellos and casually he reaches for my cigarette and I let him take it. I watch as he places his lips on the filter to puff and I wait to see what it is tonight the pushed him into reaching out for human contact. I garner nothing from his face and soon he asks if I’m ready to head inside.

Once inside the night unfolds the same as it always does. A few beers for me. Several for him. We watch something on tv but end up talking the whole time. Which of course leads to settling on music to listen to and sing along with. He reaches for my hand and holds it but the second I relax into the touch he lets go. He can’t commit to the intimacy just yet. Two more beers though and we’re in the bedroom shedding clothes and racing to touch each other.

Later as we lie in his bed I have my heart on his chest and listen to the pounding of it against his ribs. He twines his legs in mine and places his hot feet on my cold ones making both of us the perfect temperature and slowly as we start to drift off he turns onto his side pulling my arm over him as I settle in a position to hold him. My eyes are closed an I press my face into his back to feel his warmth.

I am content. This man is broken but he lets me hold the pieces together. There is something in me that responds strongly to being needed. I think all humans have it. Yet as his breathing evens and deepens and I feel him slip into sleep I lie awake. I’m too tired to sleep. I’m afraid of the morning. When morning comes and sobriety hits I don’t know where I stand with him. In the daylight he doesn’t need me anymore. Instead he fears me. Just like he does the rest of the world.

Carefully I unlace my fingers from his and pull my arm away. Silently I stand and dress and make my way out to the door. Before I go I look at his face one more time and feel my heart crack at the sadness I see. Now I must leave because I can feel myself starting to fall apart.

I’m home again and back in my bed. Alone. The solitude feels right and I can feel myself relaxing as my Niko purrs at my feet. I close my eyes and my last thought before unconsciousness takes me is how cold my feet feel in my own bed.