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Sure enough, I hear the gravel in the driveway begin to sing. I go look. There's that old white Ford Taurus I've made out in more than once. I go back to the kitchen hop up on the sink and light another smoke. He walks right in the back door like he used to and says "hey" like he used to. All as if nothing ever happened. I'm thinking that if he walks over and kisses me like he used to, I'll explode. Half of me wants him to, the other half wants to rip his head off and shit down his neck.
He doesn't. Instead he looks at the top of the fridge where I used to keep a steady supply of fresh tortilla chips for him.
"What? No chips?"
I finally speak. "No. Haven't bought them since July. Lost my taste for them."
He looks at me, hangs his head, walks around to the back side of the counter and parks his bony ass on the stool he always used to park on.
What's the game? Act like everything's 'normal'? Just pick up from where we were before he did what he did to me? Ignore it and it will go away?
"Get you something to drink?"
He glances at my beer. "Whatever you're having."
I so want to say "Jesus wouldn't like that, would he?" But I don't. The emotions are still roiling within me. I begin to think rather than rip his head off, how about a vicious grudge fuck? Make him walk like he just got off a tractor for a week? So, out of the blue, I say,
"Move your car down the road and be ready to hit the door if he comes home early. He hates you. He has a very short shitlist, and your at the top."
He frowns, drops his head again, and goes back out the door. When he returns a few minutes later, a beer is sitting on the counter at his traditional spot. I got feeling bad for being so pissy so far. I mean after all, it must have been hard for him to ask let alone come over. Cut him some slack. So rather than a bottle he returns to a nice frosty mug with a good head. I always give good head! :-D
There is silence. I light another smoke. He stares at me all puppy dog as if I'd left him out. Well, I had. It used to be that neither of us ever lit just one, always two.
"Want one?"
"Yeah," he says dejectedly. I toss the pack and lighter to him. He looks dejecteder as he picks them up and gently lights one.
There is silence.
We both start to say something simultaneously, then hush, then both say simultaneously "You go first." Which leads to another simutaneous "Jinx!" at which we both laugh, and smile, and catch each other's eyes. My heart drops. His eyes well and one begins to leak. My heart drops further. One more drop and it will be on the floor.
He begins, "I..." then other other starts leaking and his voice cracks. "I..."
I don't know about you, but when I'm trying not to burst into tears, talking is impossible. I know if I do it will be hello Niagra!
Finally he speaks. "Hold me."
I go and reach over the counter and touch his hand. His face is down, tears are plopping one by one into his mug. I try not to think of the expression 'crying into one's beer'. The trying isn't hard though. I want to fulfill his request, but fear I'll ... I don't know.
He gets up saying, "Please," walks to the couch, sits in the middle and repeats it. I stand on my side of the counter torn to pieces. I still have a hard time with that damn couch. How many times in past had he and I cuddled there? Sucked each other off? Spoon fucked while watching porn? His beautiful brown eyes are looking to me so plaintively. Knees weaken and over I go.
I sit to his right and he immediately wheels and lies down on his right side, head in my lap, left hand holding my left thigh. He won't look at me and I say nothing. I just look down at the side of his head and keep my left arm securely up along the back of the couch.
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encroaching increase of darkness - 2008-11-02
Bones - 2008-09-20
random bitchings and musings - 2008-07-09
Man with Huge Cock - 2008-07-04
Eric and other crazy shit - 2008-06-29
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