I skip out on work to go and sing "Christmas in July" karaoke at the gay
bar. I, along with sixty other queens, dress up to sing "Santa Baby"
while twirling around a candy cane striped pole. I've always thought of
going, but never would before. Being self-destructive for stupid reasons
seems to free a lot of things. Including my inner wild child, "Santa
Baby" singing, stripper pole hugging slut.
I have been doing a
lot of things that I wouldn't normally do. The break-up with Jahan has
hit me a lot harder than I ever thought it would. Should I be surprised?
Probably not. I know that I feel this way because of the guilt. The
notice of her intended marriage was in the paper last week. The young
man she is marrying seemed very nice looking in the picture. Though I
could only see her eyes, her whole demeanor gave truth to her misery. I
kept the picture and hid it away in my chest of drawers next to the
poems she had written and the poem from Jahan Khatun she had borrowed.
Cherished small mementos of our time together hidden away from sight.
Going
to karaoke is one of the many things I have tried, including moping
about the house listening to music. I still have yet to find a song for
her. Of course I don't think there is a song to quite fit this
situation. It probably doesn't help that I keep thinking about things
from her point of view. It hurts to think about how much she hates me
now. It hurts even more to acknowledge that it is my own fault that she
does. I didn't have to sleep with David. I didn't have to end it the way
I did. There are no time machines for me to fix my mistakes. Nothing to
gain those moments again, so I will just have to move on.
I
patiently wait for my turn on the pole, lounging at the bar. A couple of
cute girls wink at me and make kissing expressions, but I mostly ignore
them. I am waiting for Noah to show up. At the last minute I called him
to come and sing with me. I was pleasantly surprised when he said yes.
He has been very reclusive recently, a little down. I'm not entirely
sure what is going on, but I think I have an idea. He hasn't mentioned
his hunky boyfriend in a week.
When he comes in I'm a little
startled by how bad he looks. Normally he is so clean cut and crisp in
the way he dresses. Today he looks like he hasn't shaved, his light
brown hair is bedraggled and his John Lennon glasses aren't even on
straight.
"Honey, what the hell happened to you? You look like
you got into a fight with your bed!" I say, attempting to not fall off
of my bar stool and trip over my too tall hooker shoes.
"We broke up." He says simply. Then he orders a strong, multicolored, drink.
"What happened? I thought you guys were doing really well."
"He
just doesn't want me anymore. I'm not who and what he wants me to be
in, so I'm not what he wants." I rub his back as a few tears slip into
his drink. He downs his drink in a couple gulps before ordering another.
"Shouldn't you take it slow, honey? Maybe you should go home. Watch a movie, eat some ice cream."
"I
don't want to go home. I'll be alone when I get there and it will still
smell like him. And you are one to talk about taking things slow. The
once wholesome girl slutting it up over a douchebag and a bitch." He
chugs his drink and orders another. He is right, but the he says it
stings. He's never been so outright cruel about what I'm doing. I
shouldn't talk, but it is one thing for me to be self-destructive. If he
is self-destructive too, who will be my moral compass when I finally
escape this hurricane's eye?
Instead of saying anything else,
words are useless in these situations, I order a drink too. If he is
going to be trashed, so am I. I match him, drink for drink, until we are
both ridiculously drunk. We have the bartender, a sweet girl with a
nice rack, call us a cab. When the cab arrives, Noah has to help me out
because I can't stand up right in my hooker heels. We stumble in and
without warning we are making out.
It seems so natural, as the
cab takes us back toward my apartment, that we be completely engrossed
in kissing and caressing. We don't stop kissing as we stumble out of the
cab or stumble up the stairs. We stop for a moment so I can unlock the
door and the whole time he is touching and exploring. I get the door
open and we practically fall into the apartment.
He shuts the
door behind us, a look of pure lust on his face and he kisses me again.
We stumble towards my room. We lose our clothes as we go, lost in
sensations that you only feel when you are drunk and utterly lonely.
We
collapse on the bed, entangled. Everything smells like sweat and
alcohol breath, kisses and the beginning of sex. We are completely naked
and almost in a practical position. He has somehow managed to pull on a
condom in our drunken revelry. Then he is on top of me, in-between my
legs, kissing me and pressed against me. It feels so wonderful,
dream-like even.
Suddenly, I feel him softening, no longer
pressed to me. He actually looks a little horrified. He has just
realized, through the drunken haze, that he is about to have sex with a
woman. This was a bad idea. This was an awful idea. I start to cry.
"No,
no. Don't cry." he whispers, pulling off the condom. He switches
positions and kisses me again. I feel like I have dived headlong into a
barrel of needles. All of which are stuck in my chest.
"I knew
you weren't attracted to me. I knew and I still thought this would
happen." I wipe away a stray tear. I am almost into a full crying jag
and sobering faster than I'd like to. I don't know what we were
thinking, making out in the cab. Coming up here and acting like we would
actually ever have sex. We were too drunk to think.
"Don't you
see," he says, wiping away another tear. "that isn't true at all. It
almost happened because I am attracted to you. I am attracted to your
personality, to your intellect and your pretty face. I'm attracted to
your mind, when you choose to use it that is. I am friends with you
because of that attraction. I have always been drawn to who you are. I
can be attracted to you in a way that isn't sexual. Besides, sex scenes
like this only happen in bad Madonna movies."
He kisses me again
and holds me closely. I realize, in my tiny moments of reasonable
sobriety, that I wouldn't have wanted to have sex with Noah. It could
ruin the one friendship I would die without. And it isn't who we are at
all. Not who he is, anyway. A one night stand with a gay man is not
worth the loss of a friendship. And seducing said gay man isn't part of
the plan.
Shyly, we look away so that we can get dressed again.
We do sleep in my bed together, snuggled up. Its hard to sleep alone
after you've been sleeping with another person for so long. I don't
think I've quite gotten used to it yet. I barely remember what it was
like to sleep alone. Knowing that tomorrow we are probably going to feel
a little awkward around each other for a little bit, I snuggle closer
to take advantage of the moment.
I wake up alone. A sweet note
from Noah is lying on the counter as I go into the kitchen for some
coffee. My head is pounding and my eyes are bleary from drinking. I read
the note and smile. He says he loves me and that he is happy we didn't
do anything we probably would've regretted later.
I get dressed
for another day and even manage to go out for a little while. In the
evening, I gather up my glow stick kites and head to the beach. I need
some me time. A break from all my self-destruction to just watch the
waves lapping at the shore and the kites dancing on the breeze. I drive
slowly, taking in the dazzling sunset and the smell of the world around
me.
As part of my drive, I pass through downtown with all its
bright lights and its gypsy colors. I have always loved the smell of
downtown. So many different restaurants and so many people. It is a
carnival for the senses, really. And I drink it in until I feel a little
woozy.
The crowds are leaving the beach as I arrive. I watch as a
young couple kisses and hold hands all the way back to their car. I
sigh, wistfully. I wonder what their life will be like. Will they last?
Will they break up or divorce? Will they have children? Will they always
love each other? I suppose only time and whatever supreme being governs
the universe know.
I sit, for a short time, watching the last of
the fiery sun slipping below the horizon. With a heavy heart and a few
kites, I head down to the beach. Etched in the sand, just out of reach
of the water, is heart with two initials. I think of the young couple
holding hands as they walked to their car and smile again.
Just a
little way from where I usually set up the kites is a young man, about
my age, smoking a cigarette. He is seated with his knees pulled up and
his arms resting across the top. It isn't cold, but he is wearing a
sweatshirt with a hood. Beside him is a portable radio playing Frank
Sinatra. I smile at him and tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
He smiles and raises a hand in greeting.
I turn and look at my
outfit. Jeans and an old "Batman" t-shirt. Bitterly, I wish I had worn
something different, something sexier. However, I have to work with what
I have. Plenty of women have gotten men while wearing worse, I'm sure.
Besides, he's a guy, if he doesn't like Batman I'm going to have to ask
for his man-card. Wait, I'm a girl. Can I even do that? I shake my head
and put on a game face of some sort.
I plant my glowing kites and
spread out my blanket on the sand. I try to look as sexy as possible
while I am doing this, but it is hard when I'm trying not to fling sand
in my face. I glance his way and see him staring at the kites. I follow
his gaze to the candy colored dancers.
This is the first time
I've gone kite flying without Clark. I realize this with a little throb
of loneliness. I shouldn't be trying to get a random stranger on the
beach. God knows what kinds of diseases I could pick up. Or I could end
up raped and dead, my kites uprooting from their places and flying away.
I can't help it though. I really need to step it up. If I'm going to
slut it up, I need to go all the way with it. No more dancing around it.
Besides that, I'm still a little horny from my almost encounter of the sexy kind with Noah.
Timidly,
I go up to him and ask if I can bum a cigarette. He smiles and hands me
one. I've never smoked in my life so I'm not sure what the hell I'm
doing, but here goes nothing. I try to place it seductively between my
lips and lean into him for a light. I suck a little smoke into my mouth,
without pulling it into my lungs, and slowly exhale. It tastes pretty
awful, actually and I have no clue what to do from here.
"That's a neat idea." He says, pointing toward the kites. "Did you think of it?"
I
nod and pull a little more smoke into my mouth. I think I may get the
hang of this quicker than I thought. Just have to remember not to
actually breathe it or I'll choke.
We are quiet for a little bit.
He takes a drag off of his cigarette and I take a pull off of mine. I
want to say something, but am unsure of what to say. So I use body
language to say it all. I lean into him again, brushing my hand against
his leg. I do it so as to seem accidental and, when I catch his eye, I
blush to add a grain of truth to it. It is awkward for a few more
minutes, until I almost can't stand it.
"You're pretty cute, you know." He says, taking another drag off his cigarette.
"Thank
you. You're pretty cute yourself." I smile my best sexy smile and scoot
a little closer to him. Out of the blue, he puts his arm around my
shoulders and leaves it there for a minute. I think he does this to see
if I'll stop him. I obviously don't. In fact I scoot closer into him,
with his arm around me.
"You're very forward." He whispers, nipping my earlobe. "I like that in a girl."
I
don't say anything, just give him a saucy smile and a wink. I glance
toward my blanket and then back at him. I press myself closer to him and
use my lips to caress his cheek. I can see that my behaviour is
exciting to him, so I try harder. I nibble on his ear and then kiss down
his neck.
"I have a blanket, if you have the protection." I
whisper, running my fingertips up the inside of his leg, stopping just
before I reach anything incredibly important. With another wink I stand
up and begin strutting my way back to the blanket and kites. He stands
up to follow me, moving a little awkwardly. I giggle to myself and pull
off my shirt, revealing my purple bra.
As he walks toward me, I
have time to observe his build and other things about him. His hair is a
lovely shade of blonde and he is fairly muscular. He pulls off his
sweatshirt to reveal six-pack abs with a soft blonde patch leading
toward bigger and better things. Emphasis on the bigger. He comes up to
me, both of us shirtless, and he kisses me. We taste like cigarettes,
but I don't care.
He unhooks my bra, expertly, and I let it drop
to the blanket. He takes a moment to explore, before tugging at my
jeans. We both step out of our bottoms and lie down on the blanket. He
pulls a condom out of his shorts pocket and gives me a quirky smile. I
notice his light blue eyes light up when he smiles and I smile too. He
kisses me again and for a moment I feel a blind panic. I am about to
have sex with a complete stranger. Someone whose name I don't even know.
Can I really go through with this?
I feel him move into me and
realize its too late. I am going through with it now. I have to. He is
gentle and sweet, I find that I am actually enjoying myself. Just over
his shoulder I can see the moon and my kites dipping and soaring. I dip
and soar with them. His radio is still playing. Everything seems so
strange from where I am lying. I look into his face and he smiles again.
He kisses me and then nibbles at my neck, my ears and further down. He
doesn't ask what I like and I don't ask what he likes. We work
instinctively and are rather satisfied with the results.
We end
up spending several hours on the beach. Hardly any of that time is spent
watching the kites dance. After we finish, again, we have another
cigarette. It is late and soon the sun will rise, we've spent almost the
whole night here. We kiss goodbye, the only parting we give and I begin
to pack up my blanket and kites. He grabs his radio, his clothes and
our trash. Before anyone else arrives, he is gone. A one night stand
faded into darkness before morning comes.
Once my kites are all
packed into the car, I decide that I want to stay and watch the sunrise.
I grab my blanket and make my way back down to the beach. I find a
decent spot just down from where I spent my night and I set up there. I
watch as the sun is born and a notice that there is tear slipping down
my cheek. I pull my knees up, wrap my arms around them and rest my cheek
on my knee. Its so lonely, where I am right now. I've ruined one
person's life in my quest to ruin my own. I almost ruined a beautiful
friendship too.
To prove to myself that I am a whore I have slept
with a random stranger I ran into at the beach. I don't have to look at
the blanket I am sitting on for the evidence of it. I can still feel
the experience. Its really stupid, this downward spiral. From the
outside I can see that. But now I can't stop. I feel so completely
worthless right now.
I don't cry, though. I refuse to. I pull
myself together and grab my blanket. I drive home and go straight to
bed. I am too tired to do anything but undress and then I am far away
from here. Snuggles comes to sleep with me and we curl up under the
covers.
I don't wake up until noon when my phone rings. I answer, even though I am half asleep.
"Hello?" I murmur.
"Are you still asleep? Its noon!" says a voice I don't recognize off hand.
"Who is this?" I ask, trying to wipe the sleeping dust out of my eyes.
"Noah. Who else would be calling you right now?" He sounds like he is in a better mood than the other night.
"I don't know. I'm still asleep."
"Well,
stop being asleep and come out to lunch with me. There is a new
restaurant that just opened right down the street from your apartment.
You won't even have to drive. They serve breakfast all day, so you can
have waffles or something if you want. My treat."
"I'm sorry, I
can't wake up right now. You've reached Abra's voice-mail leave a
message." I hang up and fall right back to sleep. However, my friend is
quite persistent. My phone rings again. I can almost hear Noah yelling
at me to answer.
"Fine," I say. "I'll get up."
I answer the phone and sit up.
"You can't stay in bed all day, you know. The world is waiting outside your door." he says.
"Thank
you, Mr. Guru. Anything else you want to chant at me?" Grumpily, I slip
into my Kermit slippers and drunkenly careen my way to the bathroom. I
don't even bother to hang up before plopping down on the toilet.
"Come on, Grumpy Gus. Its a beautiful day. I have a beautiful friend I'd like to spend it with. That friend being you."
"Okay, okay. Let me shower and I'll meet you at the restaurant." I flush the toilet and hang up.
I
look in the mirror to see if I look any different after last night.
Nothing seems to have changed, physically. I look like myself. I wonder
if the girl in the mirror feels the cracks widening. I wonder if she
realizes just how far we are falling. She looks at me blankly. I think
she doesn't know. I bitterly wish I could be her. Be anyone but myself
right now.
He was cute, but was he worth my soul?
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