Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blank. This is for You. It was my last night in California, everything had been packed away and hauled back to Sacramento, while I was to sleep on the floor with my remaining things, pick up a rental car, and drive out to Montana. This was two years ago. I had spent a good deal of time on the phone that night, trying to say good bye to all of my friends, arrange visiting times, smoking and laughing on my patio, remembering my former Party Girl self. There was one person I had yet to make contact with, and the last person had taken the painting I saved for him just 10 minutes before the familiar car alarm sounded in front of my house. Surprised and a little afraid, I watched a bald head climb up my stairs, and a wide smile spread over his face. Bobby. Would you like a beer? I've still got all of the Sierra Nevada from last month. Or do you want what I'm having? No thanks. I'm fine. And, we talked. Mostly about my old job, and the drama that happened and didn't happen, the drama that would happen. It started to get dark. Let's go inside. Quickly, I directed the conversation to us. We'd been broken up for months, occaisionally sleeping together, but it had been so long, I'd started keeping someone else for that. You'll never see me again. I know. I should go to bed. I should go. Just one last time. No. And, I kissed him. He wouldn't kiss me back, I cried. I cried, and fell to the floor, while he stood there and looked down on me. I got up, and sat on the couch. Listen. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, then you don't have to say good bye. I know how hard it is for you. Okay. In the next room, I laid down on the floor, my comforter over the top of me, now naked. He laid down next to me, and stroked my hair. I wanted him. I wanted to take him with me, or to tell me not to go. I wanted him to take care of me, I wanted to take care of him, and all of this manifested itself into a burning desire. I knew him better then he knew himself, I knew all of the buttons to push, places to press fingers, actions to perform in order to get what I wanted. It wasn't working. In all of my years with him, I had manipulated every situation I needed to change. But this was not about wearing stockings to work and letting him see. This was not about spreading my legs in a skirt and black platforms, in front of him in my back yard. This was not about dropping my towel, changing my top, or handing him my underwear in a bar. This was something else. I wanted him to love me still and forever, and instead of just speaking these words, I took him in my mouth. All the way, until I felt and tasted the end, and heard the last gasp. He laid there. I fell asleep, but I remember hearing his car start. In the morning, the painting he couldn't decide if he wanted was gone. And, I still wonder if he ever found the note I left him on the back. For Bobby - Thank you for teaching me all about Nothing. 4:03 p.m. - 2003-08-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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