I'm out of milk again. This is a fairly regular occurrence in my kitchen. I’m used to drinking my coffee sweet and black. My shopping list is now: milk, something to eat that is more substantial than sunflower seeds. I realize there are easier ways to go about things but I like things this way. I don’t mind sitting here thinking of an old friend when I should be dressing and going to the market before work. In fact, I prefer sitting here thinking.
The details of that evening are not mine to share and even if they were, I’m not sure I’d want to share them with you. I’ve thought of her often. Especially a few years back while with him. He and I were playing out a 20 year old fantasy and the rest was just good fun. I now wonder who was actually the better friend and how the hell I ended up the one in the middle. Oh yes, I remember now.... we were 14 years old.
The 3 of us were "in a band" together. We had shitty instruments, no songs, and never played together but we were going to make it big! It was the 3 of us against the world. But this was the boy that all the girls loved, including us. The guitar playing boy that all the girls went nuts over. The boy who spent everyday after school and that summer at my house hanging out and playing music. He was so wonderful and I wasn't, there was no way he could ever like me, not when he could have any girl he wanted. I was naive. Naive even after he kissed me towards the end of that summer shortly before he moved away. It was too late though. I had already lost my best friend and had a horde of torch carrying girls out to kick my ass. All over this boy.
1000+ miles of I-95 between us, communication was spotty letters and occasional phone calls. We held on to a "someday" that we discussed in every conversation. We were young and thought we could do anything. I spent high school rebuilding my social life and working towards college. By the end of senior year we were all living in a different world. Feelings had healed, apologies were given and accepted, and life moved on and distances of all kinds increased despite random run-ins, letters and phone calls.
She was the last best girl friend I had. I never really trusted another girl after that. I thought of her often during his and my brief affair a few years ago. After getting back in touch after about 15 yrs of no communication we agreed that this life was not meant for us but that we weren't ready to call it over. It was the perfect affair, short, loving and provided closure at least for me.
It's absolutely impossible for me to separate these two friends. I think of one and see the other standing back and to the left. They have set the standard for all friendships since and that's not necessarily a good thing. But it's also not an entirely bad thing.
There was a strong instant hug when she walked up to me on Saturday. We are now grown women. We've walked our own paths, moved on to new lives but in that moment, during that hug, I felt that old bond still there and strong. Maybe it was just a wish.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
9 days
The now familiar alarms... the phone at 6:30am... a pleasant woman's voice telling us "This is your wake up call." We didn't even have to put the receiver to our ear to hear it loud and clear. Then the cell phone alarm 15 or so minutes later. This time though, I also had to get out of bed. This morning I couldn't lay cozy in bed listening to his shower and sneaking peeks of him dressing and leaving for work. This morning however, he turned the heat on before he got in the shower to help make getting out of bed easier for me.
I climbed out of bed with arms of warm air starting to reach out across the cold room. I reached for my panties somewhere on the floor and pulled on my clothes from last night. I could have brought clean clothes but I knew it would be an early morning and I would wait to shower at home. The sun was just starting to rise... I could see the mauve and steely blues and hazy purples and the clear turquoise blue in the space between the clouds from the sliding glass door. It was only raining in the puddles on the low roof below, otherwise, it looked like a beautiful day. I could feel a crisp chill in the air through the glass and I stood there until the urge to close my eyes and drift back to sleep left me... He stepped out of the bathroom clean, smiling, and shirtless. What a week!
I pay for a little studio apartment 16 miles up the highway. It's small and cozy on the top floor of a building filled with trashy tenants in a questionable neighborhood. I pay my rent in cash and keep to myself. If I ever needed an egg or cup of sugar I'd be shit out of luck there. But I don't mind it being that way. I love my cozy sanctuary perched above most else on the block just a short drive from this hotel room. Yet every evening this week I've found myself here with him. And every morning I hear the hotel room door shut in the wee hours of the morning and smile. It reminds me of the business lady and her hotel room in Florham Park, NJ where I used to stay a few nights a week for a few months.
In that north Jersey hotel I remember the lingering smell of her tea tree oil lotion as she bent over and kissed my forehead goodbye. She knew I'd be gone when she got "home", just like he does. They were both so kind as to put the "do not disturb" sign up when leaving so that I could sleep a bit longer.
He also kissed me on the forehead before heading out each day. There's something I love about crashing in the bed in someone else's hotel room or lounging around in their house after they've left for work for the day. I find it so sweet when these wonderful people kiss me so gently before they leave. I wonder if they know I'm awake? That I've been awake since they've crawled out of bed, just lying there relaxing and soaking in all the things I wish didn't have to end. And when I finally get out of bed I look around at the remnants of the night before and smile leaving it for housekeeping or to make them think of me when they return to the empty room after work.
I can smell him on my skin as I have everyday that I've gone home to sit at my computer, drinking coffee before starting my day. The lingering smells floating around me make me turn my head to find him but it disappears only to sneak up a few minutes later on the other side. Like being haunted by a ghost only there is no ghost here... not yet at least. I've had the happiness knowing that I would be seeing him again each evening.
We spent the evenings laughing and talking and watching movies and drinking whiskey and eating take-out or delivery or something someone else has cooked for us. We had little adventures throughout the week.... pretty dresses, bridges, big ships, parties, tattoos.... but those are other stories for other days.
This morning we said our goodbyes in the room and again just outside the hotel entrance and went separate ways to our cars. It is still pre-rush hour on 95 North and the drive towards the Girard Point Bridge is peaceful as I watch the sun slowly come up over the Navy Yard. I hit pockets of rain showers as the sun shines bright through the hole it's burned through the clouds. I'm not used to being on this side of the sun rise.
He called me pretty this morning as I sat on the bed and he stood in front of me holding my face. I'm thinking of that as I drive through the city. Breakfast at the Port Richmond Diner for some coffee and breakfast seems to be in order to say goodbye to the last 9 days of fake life. An empty diner on Tuesday morning... I drink my coffee and watch the day open up. It's cozy and warm and comfortable in here. I know my apartment will be cold and lonely after all this. Pele will keep me company today. Pele and that smile that keeps sneaking across my face.
I climbed out of bed with arms of warm air starting to reach out across the cold room. I reached for my panties somewhere on the floor and pulled on my clothes from last night. I could have brought clean clothes but I knew it would be an early morning and I would wait to shower at home. The sun was just starting to rise... I could see the mauve and steely blues and hazy purples and the clear turquoise blue in the space between the clouds from the sliding glass door. It was only raining in the puddles on the low roof below, otherwise, it looked like a beautiful day. I could feel a crisp chill in the air through the glass and I stood there until the urge to close my eyes and drift back to sleep left me... He stepped out of the bathroom clean, smiling, and shirtless. What a week!
I pay for a little studio apartment 16 miles up the highway. It's small and cozy on the top floor of a building filled with trashy tenants in a questionable neighborhood. I pay my rent in cash and keep to myself. If I ever needed an egg or cup of sugar I'd be shit out of luck there. But I don't mind it being that way. I love my cozy sanctuary perched above most else on the block just a short drive from this hotel room. Yet every evening this week I've found myself here with him. And every morning I hear the hotel room door shut in the wee hours of the morning and smile. It reminds me of the business lady and her hotel room in Florham Park, NJ where I used to stay a few nights a week for a few months.
In that north Jersey hotel I remember the lingering smell of her tea tree oil lotion as she bent over and kissed my forehead goodbye. She knew I'd be gone when she got "home", just like he does. They were both so kind as to put the "do not disturb" sign up when leaving so that I could sleep a bit longer.
He also kissed me on the forehead before heading out each day. There's something I love about crashing in the bed in someone else's hotel room or lounging around in their house after they've left for work for the day. I find it so sweet when these wonderful people kiss me so gently before they leave. I wonder if they know I'm awake? That I've been awake since they've crawled out of bed, just lying there relaxing and soaking in all the things I wish didn't have to end. And when I finally get out of bed I look around at the remnants of the night before and smile leaving it for housekeeping or to make them think of me when they return to the empty room after work.
I can smell him on my skin as I have everyday that I've gone home to sit at my computer, drinking coffee before starting my day. The lingering smells floating around me make me turn my head to find him but it disappears only to sneak up a few minutes later on the other side. Like being haunted by a ghost only there is no ghost here... not yet at least. I've had the happiness knowing that I would be seeing him again each evening.
We spent the evenings laughing and talking and watching movies and drinking whiskey and eating take-out or delivery or something someone else has cooked for us. We had little adventures throughout the week.... pretty dresses, bridges, big ships, parties, tattoos.... but those are other stories for other days.
This morning we said our goodbyes in the room and again just outside the hotel entrance and went separate ways to our cars. It is still pre-rush hour on 95 North and the drive towards the Girard Point Bridge is peaceful as I watch the sun slowly come up over the Navy Yard. I hit pockets of rain showers as the sun shines bright through the hole it's burned through the clouds. I'm not used to being on this side of the sun rise.
He called me pretty this morning as I sat on the bed and he stood in front of me holding my face. I'm thinking of that as I drive through the city. Breakfast at the Port Richmond Diner for some coffee and breakfast seems to be in order to say goodbye to the last 9 days of fake life. An empty diner on Tuesday morning... I drink my coffee and watch the day open up. It's cozy and warm and comfortable in here. I know my apartment will be cold and lonely after all this. Pele will keep me company today. Pele and that smile that keeps sneaking across my face.
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