So I spent another day with him. I spent some of that day working while he slept, although it became near impossible to work by noon because my vagina had started making decisions by then. So I got back in bed... And as he's talking with a Rosa's employee who doesn't seem to understand my vegan diet, all I can think is that my mouth should be a lot closer to his dick. .
But he makes me so fucking nervous. Or maybe last year is what rattles my nerves...
He reminds me of Zeus. Maybe because he's flaky, or because he says no one compliments him, or because I can imagine he throws back quite a bit of pussy, or because he's so confidently honest it could be a lie, or maybe it's just because I'm passionate about him... and it's been a while.
Uprooting my life to live in sleepy Cincinnati is a thought I've dabbled in. And when a man has that kind of sway... well it's never worked out for me before.
I should have looked into his eyes more. But maybe that was subconscious, knowing what I'd find there.
But they are different than those black child eyes Zeus had. Jesus Christ those eyes... Bright blue like nothing in nature I can metaphor. They're like that color of blue I hated as a kid, Cerulean. I much preferred the darker versions, a Navy or Wild Blue Yonder for instance. But in his eye sockets, I know every woman in the room notices him.
They're different though... Zeus has innocent eyes, a trick of evolution, so he could hide that he wasn't very innocent. It's possible I'm wrong, but I swear there's actual feeling behind those blue eyes. The way they excite as he starts talking faster when he tells me what we're doing now.
He called off a trip to New York earlier this year at the last minute because some Hooters waitress asked him to be exclusive in bed one morning. I can imagine she knew what she was doing... I've always been a fan of asking for things after sex and after Sunday's go around he said, "So I am moving to New York or are you moving to Cincinnati?" so he's exploiting the same method.
He doesn't always text back. And he's told me he just stops responding when he doesn't want to say no... Probably a pretty good indication today that he's not going to make a trip to Missouri in November.
I don't want to be the scared woman anymore though... But I still am. I'm afraid they're all lying. "You're amazing."Sure it feels good but that isn't the only feeling... "Me and Michael always used to talk about your ass." Worry is the other feeling; I'm worried I'm being conned.
It's constant... My brain won't shut the fuck up about it. But I guess that's what happens when you date a man that never tells the truth, and lies so poorly you always find out different.
But anyway, Monday I flew into Newark. First time flying into Jersey. The cabbie was pissed he had to take me to Brooklyn; I was equally unhappy about spending $85 to get to Brooklyn.
Then the Holland Tunnel... White tile on either side illuminated harshly by fluorescent lights, it looks like the hallways into the guts of a mental institute. It looks like that; it is that.
New York City is that hospital. This is where the crazies come to be dosed with booze and drugs and attractive men and women, made docile by fetish parties and themed events with expensive cocktails and shared batty's and cocaine, to be drugged with opportunity, both to work and play, walking the streets alone, talking to yourself, knowing the family that just passed with sideways glances won't ever see you again so what's it matter. Raise hell. New York doesn't reprimand you, it only gives you more.
Every one of us here, we may have different conditions, some of us Schizophrenic, others Bipolar, still others Depressed, but there's one disease that we all share... Unsatisfaction.
We all started out just dissatisfied, but that's only a symptom, like HIV it slowly turns into the full blown AIDs of an individual's character. There is a slight nuance between these words. Dissatisfaction is an expectation that fell short, whereas unsatisfaction is an expectation that has not been met at all.
I'll eventually have to leave New York, move back to Where people can be satisfied.
Maybe it's because I've aged but I used to be so much more flippant. I'd love someone for a week, and it'd be passionate and it'd be true if not long.
Now there are people I won't even make out with because I know there are people much better, probably walking past us right now at the top of the subway saying good-bye with an awkward hug.
And now I know there is. He's sitting in Cincinnati watching TV, texting people that would get there tonight, even though I could be there tomorrow... And I'm doing the same... Reading Tinder messages from a man that has just read my blog for the first time. "Fuck." "Trouble..." "I didn't know girls thought like this." "Hooked" "I want you." "Sheets and bootlegged movies."
And it makes me twitch. It sounds good... It's just coming from the wrong pair of lips, the ones that gave me the bruises I pray will stay eternally tender to the touch, the ones I just left in a region of the country that will always be able to pull me back.
"Love's not all that complicated.
It tells you who it's after
and it either gets what it wants
or destroys you."
-Beau Taplin
And one more from this genius man...
"The one thing I know for sure is that feelings are rarely mutual, so when they are, drop everything, forget belongings an expectations, forget the games, the two days in between texts, the hard to gets because this is it, this is what the entire world is after and you've stumbled upon it by chance, by accident--so take a deep breath, take a step forward, no run, collide like planets in he system of a dying sun, embrace each other with both arms and let all the rules, the opinions and common sense crash down around you. Because this is love kid, and it's all yours. Believe me, you're in for one hell of a ride, after all--this is the one thing I know for sure."
-Beau Taplin
Now you'll just have to wait to see which one Cincinnati is.
No comments:
Post a Comment