Friday, April 20, 2007

Thursday night out

"I can't let you go now that I've met you. Look me in the eyes. Go on. Look me in the eyes. What do you see?
It's me, little girl. I know this game way too well. You can't escape me now."
And so it was. cause girls like me promise to themselves they'll behave and they'll never fall in love again. Girls like me swear they don't believe in romance. Girls like me proudly show off their scars and walk over the edge as if fear didn't exist.
The Boys took me out to Little Tokyo and offered me dinner and drinks. I like my male friends' company. they're funny, crude and honest. We had sushi and cocktails together with good conversation and lots of laughs. We then walked into a bar Downtown. They were having a Pink Floyd tribute night. A bunch of bands were playing Pink Floyd tunes and everybody in the room looked like they knew every word in the lyrics. So I had a couple of drinks. the boys got lost in matters of seconds after some Asian girls. So I had a couple more drinks. Life looked fuzzy. a man crystalizes next to me out of the haze. he was Italian (what are the odds?). We talked. My boys got back in a guilty search of lost little me. The Italian man knew my boys (again, what are the odds?) We had some more drinks and I felt brave and I danced on the bar top and two more drinks later the Italian man was looking into my eyes whispering sweet nothings that I couldn't even understand. By this time Satan himself was mixing the drinks and I figured sleep is for tweekers and I don't really care about the 8am meeting I had next morning. Life was good.
The Italian man and I set down on a sofa. He was caressing my legs up to my miniskirt. I got close enough to him to kiss him, but never touched his lips. he said I was playing games. I thought I was too drunk to focus on any game or keep my eyes from crossing. Apparently he thought that was sexy.
I didn't kiss him good night when I left. I never gave him my number. This morning, before my 8am meeting, I got a text message from him. I was too hungover to be excited, but as soon as I come back into my senses, I swear I'll fall in love with him.

Monday, April 16, 2007


I sit at my desk. Check my emails. Nobody loves me today. Started the "to do" list in front of me. Get a phone call from my favorite stalker. We talk about my day, about love and how perfect he is for me. I'm ready to quit my job and run away with an artist. I don't know who he is yet, but I'm sure he's an artist. Cause he can sing and speak in metaphores.
I pretend I do my job for a while, I even look focused. I go to lunch. Come back to the office. Check my emails again. And there it is: a sign of life. We were lovers. We had a legitimate affair while we were in film school. He's writing to let me know he'll be out of the country for the summer. He's shooting on location. He wants to know how I'm doing. "fine" I wrote. "I'm doing great. Working. Being productive. No plans for the summer yet, but hoping for a gig a friend of mine offered." He asked me for my phone number cause he lost his phone. He'd like to call me sometimes.
I'd like him to call me. Yes, that'd be good. In fact I'd like him to call me right now. I'd like him to tell me "I've known you long enough to love you". I'd like him to sit down on his couch like he did the first time we met. He was looking at me while I was standing up in front of him. He reached under my skirt. I was wearing no underwear that day. He never said a word. He just looked me in the eyes while his fingers were coming in and out of my pussy. He stopped what he was doing only to carry me to his bed. Lay me there. take my skirt and shirt off. Take his pants off. We had sex and then he said: "Hi. How are you?". I was out of breath, but I whispered: "fine". We took a shower and we fell in love.
I'd like to tell him: Come to me. Fuck me like there's no tomorrow. Tell me "you'll be the death of me" just like that time at the Abbey. Fuck me while you're pinning me against the wall and covering my mouth with your hand so the neighbors won't hear and I wouldn't scream of pleasure. I smell me on your hand. I'm biting it but you're not stopping. You only let go when you come. and then you kiss me and tell me you'd like some coffee.
So I write back: "Call me. It'd be nice to catch up. Maybe we can have a coffee sometimes..."

Monday, April 09, 2007

Brake point

"why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"because I didn't know" I replied.
I didn't know that I loved him but wasn't in love with him. I didn't know that being familiar and bonding was part of a relationship we've already lived once.
He stared at me for a while. He's got piercing, accusatory eyes. Never blinks. Thin lips gathered into disapproval.
I know, I've got to be the bad guy this time. Mea Culpa.
our words turn into sand and I lay in the sun roasting my skin away while he's wearing SPF 60 tanning lotion under an umbrella.
Retracing a past, love, feelings and such is never fun. However, time loops on itself and it feels like you live the same experience again, wether you want to or not. that's when you start questioning all that you know about life, that's when you build up all of those safe insecurities that'll undermine any future relationship you'll eventually get into.
"I'm not in love with you" I said
"I knew that" he replied.
where's the relief? Friendship? should we continue talking? Should we just run away and pretend we never met?
relationships have an easy start. It's all a game for about a year or so...illusions. Sex helps you forget there's work involved. It all starts as if there's nothing to worry about in the world. Then, if you want to protect the emotional investment, you've got to talk and talk some more and find an agreement and understand and making an effort to understand and making an effort to make an effort. Then, all of a sudden, it's all complicated and you wonder: "How did we get here?"
Every person you ever meet, romantically or not, leaves and imprint into your life and you live an imprint into their life. If you bond in any way, you'll both have the responsibility of your actions/ feelings/ emotions.
"I'll stop by on Wednesday?' he said
"We'll go to dinner, there's a new sushi place in K-town" I replied.