He posted his news to the entire FB universe several hours after texting me:
Holy Shit I actually got into Law School
I couldn't resist and reiterated my happiness for him:
Congratulations, always....good luck, this is a big endeavor!
Several other friends and colleagues of his chimed in, along with family members and what not...he replied back to everyone, of course:
thanx for the kind words everyone
***
I don't know what it is anymore...what I feel I'm drowning in...the wistful pleasure of waiting to see him and not knowing when that will be...the sharp, gnawing guilt of crushing on someone other than my boyfriend...or is it the quivering, glimmering hope that things will get better?...and still time rolls on, slow and torturous....if only it were quick and painless.
I haven't typed lines as emo as this since high school. Sheesh.
I will bide my time, I suppose. As things approach their deadlines, I will find the words to say to him (Edgar) all I feel...and find the apologies I can't remember to him (Dan) as well.
It would be wrong of anyone to think I am a bad person after reading this entire blog...I can honestly say everything else has gone well in my life...I have been a well-behaved child to my parents (for the most part), a loving friend who is always there for her buddies and a responsible, industrious employee to my company....even as a student, teachers adored me. Why couldn't I make my amorous life behave the same way? Why has this been so hard for me? And I wouldn't say it was EVERY SINGLE relationship that was bad...ask Paul, ask Julio, ask Rob, ask Alberto (well maybe not him), fuck you can even ask Edgar...ask them and they can tell you I was nice, courteous, genuine, attentive and just plain fun. I never tried to hurt any of them like I hurt Dan.
I don't know why things with Dan have been so different this time. These last two years have been suffocating at times. I could have stopped it...but I didn't. And that's what bothers me to end...what convinces me that I have rotten insides.
***
I comfort myself at night...on my walks during work at break...when I am alone and confused...I comfort myself with thoughts, shades, relics of memories of Edgar...from this past month, from this last visit...from every time I've been with him.
I see the way his mouth curves, the way his words slur a little when he's talking...he's got a slight lisp that you don't notice right away until you've been talking to him for a while...it's not supposed to be cute...but it is.
He makes references to history and tries to makes jokes...he compared the drive to my apartment as long and as arduous as the Donner Party's voyage to California. I laughed, I'll admit...I asked him if we'd start resorting to cannibalism. The fact that I got the reference surprised him..."You can't sneak that one past me, Cruz!" I said as we both laughed.
He looks so good in just jeans, a band T-shirt and low-top Cons (I wear those too!)...he says wearing band shirts makes him feel young...hah!
The scar above his left eye-brow...killer.
I got addicted to reading Brandon Kelly's blog. He's the bassist for the Lawrence Arms, Edgar's favorite band.
Ughhh...I want more. I want to like less superficial things about him...I want to be given the opportunity to see the good and the bad side of him. I want a chance to have things get messy, for us to jump out into the great unknown of relationships...to take this lust, this good shit, to the next level. I want to explore why we sound so good on paper and then actually try it out in the real world. I want to be with him, nice and truly.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I fought the law...and the law won...
At about 11 this morning I get some wonderful news from Edgar:
Edgar: Hey, I got in.
me: Got in to where?
Edgar: Western State School of Law
me: Ed, I am very proud of you!! Congrats!! I knew you had it in you. We should celebrate this weekend... ;)
Edgar: Not sure about this weekend but def. need to celebrate.
me: You know how to find me. Congrats again.
I love, love, love that he's staying in Southern California....in Fullerton to be exact, which is just a few minutes from my soon-to-home-again Whittier and in beautiful (yet annoying) Orange County! I also love, love, love that he sought me out for once and felt I should know his big news. It gives me hope that maybe he knows that I'm special....because I know I am. I could make him very happy. I could be his girl...more than just a secret confidant and irregular lover.
I'm trying to not read into things too much. I'm sure in his mind he's trying to keep me (presumably his friend/paramour) in the loop...that he's so excited about the news and wanted to make sure I knew what the outcome of the whole law school application ordeal finally was. I can't mine this little text conversation for anymore hints or subtle messages. But could it be that he's trying to tell me that yeah....he's sticking around for another couple of years? That he's glad he'll stay near me?
No, it can't. I can't be so selfish.
It irks me to no end that I would get down on my hands and knees for this boy...that I would alter my life...that I would spend all my time with him...if he just asked me to. But I can't fucking do that for Dan.
God, fuck my heart!!!! It gets so hopeful for things that I know can't happen...I don't know how to make Edgar want to take that leap and be with me in a normal capacity. I hate knowing that I would things for him that he'd never do for me. And why do I want to be with a guy like that? Men don't change unless they want to....boys even less. Ughhhh. Matters of the heart are so frustrating...it never gets better. Just more complicated and twisted.
I just want to de-stress about this. I want a crystal ball. I want someone to spoil the ending for me. I want time to hurry up. I want to not care so much. I want him. I want Edgar, every day and all the time. I want him to want me back.
(sigh sigh sigh, forever and ever....just sigh)
Or maybe I just want to fuck a lawyer.
Yeah, that's it.
Edgar: Hey, I got in.
me: Got in to where?
Edgar: Western State School of Law
me: Ed, I am very proud of you!! Congrats!! I knew you had it in you. We should celebrate this weekend... ;)
Edgar: Not sure about this weekend but def. need to celebrate.
me: You know how to find me. Congrats again.
I love, love, love that he's staying in Southern California....in Fullerton to be exact, which is just a few minutes from my soon-to-home-again Whittier and in beautiful (yet annoying) Orange County! I also love, love, love that he sought me out for once and felt I should know his big news. It gives me hope that maybe he knows that I'm special....because I know I am. I could make him very happy. I could be his girl...more than just a secret confidant and irregular lover.
I'm trying to not read into things too much. I'm sure in his mind he's trying to keep me (presumably his friend/paramour) in the loop...that he's so excited about the news and wanted to make sure I knew what the outcome of the whole law school application ordeal finally was. I can't mine this little text conversation for anymore hints or subtle messages. But could it be that he's trying to tell me that yeah....he's sticking around for another couple of years? That he's glad he'll stay near me?
No, it can't. I can't be so selfish.
It irks me to no end that I would get down on my hands and knees for this boy...that I would alter my life...that I would spend all my time with him...if he just asked me to. But I can't fucking do that for Dan.
God, fuck my heart!!!! It gets so hopeful for things that I know can't happen...I don't know how to make Edgar want to take that leap and be with me in a normal capacity. I hate knowing that I would things for him that he'd never do for me. And why do I want to be with a guy like that? Men don't change unless they want to....boys even less. Ughhhh. Matters of the heart are so frustrating...it never gets better. Just more complicated and twisted.
I just want to de-stress about this. I want a crystal ball. I want someone to spoil the ending for me. I want time to hurry up. I want to not care so much. I want him. I want Edgar, every day and all the time. I want him to want me back.
(sigh sigh sigh, forever and ever....just sigh)
Or maybe I just want to fuck a lawyer.
Yeah, that's it.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Darling, you gotta let me know: should I stay or should I go?
We wasted no time getting back to our screwy games of Facebook tag and low-key flirtation. I didn't break with tradition and threw the first volley of awkward gestures. I wrote him a message:
April 15 at 10:39am
Yo,
Bill Burr is going to be at the Hollywood Improv on both Friday May 14th at 8 pm and Saturday May 15th at 7:30 pm and 9:30 pm.
Now you got me curious. I kinda want to see him do a full set of stand up. Do you want to go? I can get us tickets. Don't know what your comfort level might be with that...or if you're ready to be seen with me in public. lol. I know...it's weird.
You can't say I didn't tell you this time.... :)
A week came and went and he never acknowledged my stupid stunt to get a real, living breathing date out of him. I felt stupid and the usual malaise of rejection warmed over me. I know he saw the message. Why he chose to ignore it is beyond my comprehension. I continued life, happily living at my mom's house for the past two weeks since Dan was working on cleaning out his parents garage. I prayed that Ed would come around...maybe we could sneak away for a bit? I was satisfied with him just sending me random "lols" and liking my status on Facebook here and there.
Dan and I went and saw Conan O'Brien do some stand-up and skits on his touring comedy show. We decided to eat some special brownie and get stupid high during the performance. Prior to getting super baked, Dan asked why all of a sudden the wallpaper on my phone was a dashboard clock reading 3:31...I lied and said I wasn't sure...that it must have been some night I was out with my cousins. He didn't sound too upset (or convinced) but he did insist that I must have been out with my "other boyfriend." I went along with it and joked that we have sex in my mom's garage in Whittier, where my cat Susie sleeps. Whatever. I was hard-core stoned near the end of the show but we still managed to get out of the venue and drive home safe and sound. Somewhere near the traffic jam on the 101 by Sunset, Dan starts harping on and on about my phone, the suspicious wall-paper and my shadiness about the whole thing. I rolled my eyes and tried to cover...but he just kept going at it. The weed I consumed must have been like truth serum or something because I kept wanting to just scream it at him...just so he'd shut his stupid face. "Yes! I fuck around behind your back...and guess with who? FUCKING EDGAR CRUZ!" But I suppressed the urge and actually parked near Dan's house until he sobered up and let the issue go. He was stubborn and it took nearly an hour! In the end, he said a few things that worried me. He admitted our relationship was not on the best terms, that I had a past history of cheating and that what I had done with the phone was pretty suspicious and out of character. He said he knew when I was lying. All I wanted was for him to just leave.
I drove home, white knuckled and feeling my heart nearly slamming out of my chest when I spotted a police cruiser driving behind me on the freeway. I made it home in one piece. Thank God.
I was stumbling about in the dark, getting ready for bed when I get a text message at 1:30 am. I froze, dead in my tracks.
Edgar: Hey whats up?
me: Sleeping? I hear people do that at this hour.
Edgar: Sleep is for the weak. I wanna see you.
me: Nope. Not a good idea.
Edgar: Why?
me: well to be blunt, I am on my period. Also I suspect you're a wee bit drunk. :)
He never answered, either spooked by my bold mention of a period (yes Edgar, I do menstruate...you should be happy...this means you're not a daddy!) or gutted that I had actually rejected HIM for once. I knew it wouldn't be pretty...I was much to high and I knew he had to be wasted pretty bad in order for him to lose his cool and request a booty call. Besides, my mom had already heard me...I could never get out of the house now.
I called him a few minutes ago tonight to see what went on with him...or at least offer a mild apology for striking him down (and even clue him in to Dan's suspicion)...but he didn't answer. Instead, I was left with the sour feeling of his new voicemail message: "Hey I'm busy! Call me later!"
I liked his old message better.
(sigh) It feels like the walls are closing in on me. Dan's trying to corner me. But I won't go down without a fight.
April 15 at 10:39am
Yo,
Bill Burr is going to be at the Hollywood Improv on both Friday May 14th at 8 pm and Saturday May 15th at 7:30 pm and 9:30 pm.
Now you got me curious. I kinda want to see him do a full set of stand up. Do you want to go? I can get us tickets. Don't know what your comfort level might be with that...or if you're ready to be seen with me in public. lol. I know...it's weird.
You can't say I didn't tell you this time.... :)
A week came and went and he never acknowledged my stupid stunt to get a real, living breathing date out of him. I felt stupid and the usual malaise of rejection warmed over me. I know he saw the message. Why he chose to ignore it is beyond my comprehension. I continued life, happily living at my mom's house for the past two weeks since Dan was working on cleaning out his parents garage. I prayed that Ed would come around...maybe we could sneak away for a bit? I was satisfied with him just sending me random "lols" and liking my status on Facebook here and there.
Dan and I went and saw Conan O'Brien do some stand-up and skits on his touring comedy show. We decided to eat some special brownie and get stupid high during the performance. Prior to getting super baked, Dan asked why all of a sudden the wallpaper on my phone was a dashboard clock reading 3:31...I lied and said I wasn't sure...that it must have been some night I was out with my cousins. He didn't sound too upset (or convinced) but he did insist that I must have been out with my "other boyfriend." I went along with it and joked that we have sex in my mom's garage in Whittier, where my cat Susie sleeps. Whatever. I was hard-core stoned near the end of the show but we still managed to get out of the venue and drive home safe and sound. Somewhere near the traffic jam on the 101 by Sunset, Dan starts harping on and on about my phone, the suspicious wall-paper and my shadiness about the whole thing. I rolled my eyes and tried to cover...but he just kept going at it. The weed I consumed must have been like truth serum or something because I kept wanting to just scream it at him...just so he'd shut his stupid face. "Yes! I fuck around behind your back...and guess with who? FUCKING EDGAR CRUZ!" But I suppressed the urge and actually parked near Dan's house until he sobered up and let the issue go. He was stubborn and it took nearly an hour! In the end, he said a few things that worried me. He admitted our relationship was not on the best terms, that I had a past history of cheating and that what I had done with the phone was pretty suspicious and out of character. He said he knew when I was lying. All I wanted was for him to just leave.
I drove home, white knuckled and feeling my heart nearly slamming out of my chest when I spotted a police cruiser driving behind me on the freeway. I made it home in one piece. Thank God.
I was stumbling about in the dark, getting ready for bed when I get a text message at 1:30 am. I froze, dead in my tracks.
Edgar: Hey whats up?
me: Sleeping? I hear people do that at this hour.
Edgar: Sleep is for the weak. I wanna see you.
me: Nope. Not a good idea.
Edgar: Why?
me: well to be blunt, I am on my period. Also I suspect you're a wee bit drunk. :)
He never answered, either spooked by my bold mention of a period (yes Edgar, I do menstruate...you should be happy...this means you're not a daddy!) or gutted that I had actually rejected HIM for once. I knew it wouldn't be pretty...I was much to high and I knew he had to be wasted pretty bad in order for him to lose his cool and request a booty call. Besides, my mom had already heard me...I could never get out of the house now.
I called him a few minutes ago tonight to see what went on with him...or at least offer a mild apology for striking him down (and even clue him in to Dan's suspicion)...but he didn't answer. Instead, I was left with the sour feeling of his new voicemail message: "Hey I'm busy! Call me later!"
I liked his old message better.
(sigh) It feels like the walls are closing in on me. Dan's trying to corner me. But I won't go down without a fight.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
"....just remember that it's flesh and bone..."
Anticipation is wonderful...the pay off is even better.
We talk about the passing of our friend and the tragedy of the situation...I confirm the rumor that yes, it was pills and alcohol. Edgar says he didn't feel right attending the funeral having not talked to our friend in such a long time...also, the thought of having to face me and Dan together was a little too awkward...he said his friend (who would have accompanied to the funeral) was joking about screaming "Edgar fucked your girlfriend!" to Dan. Funny...
He grabs my hand and holds it sweetly. I apologize for how icy they must feel...he warms them up by blowing his breath on them...I giggle and he smiles, "Yeah that probably didn't work..."
We make our usual spot-on conversation complete with hilarious digressions and anecdotes...I look out the window and watch southeast L.A. speed past us...I see a piece of a bumper (or fender?) sitting in the emergency lane next to us...he swerves to the right a little to avoid it..."Whoa!!" he says and mutters that it's a rear end spoiler...I stand corrected.
I love how we can just talk and talk and we never run out of things to say...such a stark contrast to Dan...we run out of conversation before we even get home...he's usually sound asleep, snoring...I love how Ed takes hold of the steering wheel and makes me forget my troubles...I watch him drive there in the dark, his face intermittently being lit up by the headlights of passing motorists...he looks amazing..the cities run by us in a blur: Whittier, El Monte, Montebello, Monterey Park, East L.A., Downtown, Hollywood, Universal City, Studio City, Glendale, Burbank, Sherman Oaks, Tarzana...and then Reseda..."Is this you?" he asks as we approach Balboa...I shake my head..."I'm on Reseda Blvd., the next one actually." So this is really happening, huh?
We arrive at my apartment and make ourselves comfortable...he remarks that my place isn't as cold as it was last time..."It's April! Now it's only 60 degrees!" I laugh as I get him a glass for his drink and a small shot glass for mine...
"Can you do me a favor? You're taller than I am..can you get the bottle?" I ask coyly with a smile...he happily obliges and I watch him reach up on his tip toes to open the top cabinet. He holds the bottle of JW Blue almost lovingly and smiles at me: "Now aren't you glad I convinced you to get this? It's the best investment ever." I burst into laughter and insist he was only PART of the reason. I tap the glass bottle, "It's a boy magnet. Best birthday present ever." He kisses me abruptly...a kiss turns into a caress...suddenly he's got me pinned against the counter, next to the sink...his lips trailing from my open mouth to my neck, to my ear...he runs his fingers through my hair and I'm drowning in this good feeling...I grip the waistline of his jeans and steady myself...he's touching my breast, my stomach, my crotch...oh God, it's a dizzying heat of open mouth kisses punctuated by the delight of his soft, wet tongue in my mouth...I linger my tongue on his..every time I pull away coquettishly from his kisses and lightly push him away, he pulls me closer and buries his warm mouth on my neck and chest...I giggle happily "Fuck...you drive me crazy!" He meets my gaze and arches an eyebrow "Do you want me to stop? I'll stop if you want me to...just tell me." I bite my lip and shake my head, "Keep going." I rest my arms on his shoulder blades and we kiss until I feel his erection on my hip. The air feels electric...I manage to break the spell and playfully pull away. I stumble a little and grab his glass "Uhmm...do you want ice?" I laugh as I wipe the taste of my own lip gloss from the corner of my mouth. He answers quickly: "Yes, please. Three cubes." I smack the ice tray against the counter and drop in the cubes *clink clink clink* He pours himself a drink and fills my shot glass up. We clink our glasses and toast to our fallen friend at Edgar's suggestion. And down the hatch it goes...uhghhhhh...it burns! But so good! He swallows a mouthful and grins.
The whisky works down my system, starting out in my throat, down my chest and finally settling in my stomach....I grab a Smirnoff Ice and he opens it for me, "It's a twist off!" he laughs and I have to tell him the story about the time I tried to open a twist off in the dark, drunk on my 22nd birthday with a bottle opener and how I slashed my thumb. I bled everywhere and had to be rescued by my roomate's then-EMT boyfriend. "And since then I always have someone else open twist offs for me."
As the alcohol starts to penetrate our system and we drink more, the stories and loud laughter start coming...he proclaims that when we gets into law school he's going to buy himself a bottle of JW Blue Label King George V Edition..."That's like $600 a bottle!" I remark and he nods with confidence. "How about I give you the rest of this bottle when you get into law school, as a present?" I joke. "I'll take it!" he agrees. Somehow the conversation meanders over to speaking Spanish and how we're both not very good at it...we start speaking Spanish to each other, laughing in loud bursts when we forget the right word or trip over our pronunciation. We keep correcting each other and it's just so stupid...in my tipsy stupor he explains that his family is actually from Culiacán, a city in northwestern Mexico in the state of Sinaloa. I was close!
He leads me back to the couch and we set our drinks down on the coffee table. "So I'm thinking of getting my own place by June in Long Beach. I found the perfect studio so I'm saving up my money." I happily congratulate him...so maybe he's staying here after all...yesss!!! "Well, make sure to invite me for the housewarming" I say as I take a long drink from my strawberry flavored Smirnoff. It's only a matter of time before we're making out again like two love-starved teenagers. I remember being a dorky high school freshman geek with glasses, pining desperately over punk rocker Edgar...and here he is on my couch 11 years later, running his hands all over me, hungrily kissing my mouth...I quietly give my 15 year old awkward self props while Ed marvels over my breasts. He caresses my nipples over my shirt and smiles to himself as he feels how hard they are. God this is so hot.
I come up for air and glance over at him as he sits only inches away from me. I smile at him as I nervously nibble on my cuticle. He pushes my hand away and fastens his mouth back on me. Very, very hot. "Admit, you don't want me to stop" he breathes and I sigh near his lips and close my eyes. I don't want this feeling to ever end. How can I keep this forever? We compose ourselves for a little bit and try to sit at opposite ends of the little couch. We drink more and chat, everything punctuated by my drunken giggle and his carefree chuckle. His ice has melted into his whisky but he relishes every drink. I stare at him with ravenous eyes. I love the way his arms look, lean and with a little muscle peeking out from the short sleeve of his navy blue Tiger Army shirt...it's the cover of Ghost Tigers Rise. He has a mole on his bicep just like I do, on the right arm. He leans back on the couch and pulls me close. We talk even more intensely, now in hushed whispers. I look into his gaze, his eyes are little slits....they're almost closed...he frightens me and turns me on at the same time. "You're so beautiful. Did you know that?" he murmurs and kisses me hard. "You're so beautiful. Don't ever change who you are...a very wise person told me that once" he whispers in my ear. I smile, "I think that was me, right?" He nods and we switch....now he's pressing my back on the couch...I'm almost horizontal, no longer sitting on the couch...he lays his head on my chest and tells me he'd love to fall asleep like this. Then he works on taking my bra off. Oh boy.
He fiddles with the clasps. I shake my head, "Bras are like algebra to boys." He manages to unhook the first two clasps. "Hey! I got it!" he says triumphantly. "Great...keep practicing and one day you'll be able to do it in the dark, with your eyes closed, using your left hand." As soon as I finish talking he's pulled my bra off. "I did do it with my left hand!" he says smugly and pushes my shirt up..."Alright, a black bra...you knew you were going to see me, huh?" he muses and kisses me again. I clasp my arms against my chest to hold up my breasts but it's no use...the girls have gone wild.
He takes my hand and makes me touch his hard erection over his jeans. "That's what you do to me" he says with this devilish grin. I sneak my fingers through the zipper of his jeans and past the waistband of his boxer briefs....I feel his hard-on and crave him enormously. I would rip the fly off his pants, if I could!! "God, you really do drive me crazy" I hiss as I watch him pull his cock out. We kiss as I fasten my hand on his dick. I stop suddenly and look at him through nearly-closed eyes, "Hand jobs are so useless when you've got a blow job waiting for you." I slide down to the floor and slip his shaft right into my mouth. He groans immediately and reclines on the couch as I work him furiously with my mouth. He sinks his fingers into my hair, pulling it slightly. Annoying but guys love doing it. I let him....his chest is rising and falling rapidly...he's breathing so ragged now. I lick him with delight, imaging he's a melting ice cream cone. He can't even talk, he's so far gone....I suck him all the way to the hairy root of his cock, deep throating him like a pro. He grips harder on my hair and pushes me down on his dick. Okay, I get it. I match the movements of his arm and pick up the pace. I wrap my tongue around the base of his shaft as I push my mouth down, then drag it back up to the tip when I retract. He looks like he's going to come soon, his face is flushed red and contorted in what can only be perceived as a mixture of pleasure and pain. I take a deep breath and continue to deep throat him. I go so deep that my ear presses against his lower belly. I hear his stomach digesting. Weird! His dick is wet and slippery as I work him mercilessly. My mouth and his dick makes those familiar wet, gushing sounds that drive me wild. I moan in a pleading tone and signal with a thumbs up, as if to ask him "Almost?" He understands and shakes his head, "Yes. Yes. Almost!" he groans as I continue. It's a matter of seconds and then suddenly he says something like, "Right now..." and my mouth is filled with hot, salty semen. I swallow quickly, almost caught by surprise and lick him clean. We collapse together on the couch and take a breather. "Wow! That was good! My lips are numb!" I exclaim. He laughs hard and kisses me, "The alcohol made that one last a while...I did have two glasses of wine before picking you up.."
Oh whisky dick. I can't be mad at you. :)
He suggests we take the fun to the bedroom. We race to the bedroom and clothes start coming off. Sublime is our soundtrack as he props himself up on his side (I do the same) and he quickly reaches between my legs. He wastes no time finding my clit. I don't feel wet yet and he rubs at it stubbornly. I shiver and quake as he hits the right spot, teasing me and then giving it all to me. I come in a matter of minutes, in spite of myself. I didn't want to yet but his naked body next to me was enough. I cling to him, my nails scratching his back as he rubs my clit again. I murmur words of encouragement, moaning in pleasure. "Say my name...say my name..." he whispers and I give in...I say his name over and over, like it'll make me come hard or something. He pushes me onto my back as he takes my right nipple in his mouth and works his fingers between my legs. I arch my back and cry out. So fucking good. He sucks on my breasts like a mad man. "Easy, easy, easy..." I breathe...but I don't want it to stop.
We wrap ourselves around each other like feverish, hot snakes...two lovers battling it out in bed..."Pawnshop" by Sublime plays softly as we both groan in pleasure. I kiss his soft neck and shoulder blades...his chest gets a barrage of wet kisses, too. I run my hands all over his arms, his back, his tight ass. I can't hold it in anymore. I look into his dark, smoldering eyes: "Oh God, please fuck me!!" I cry hoarsely. He reaches for the condom, a Trojan in gold foil. He mounts me and slowly enters me. I feel his cock widening me as he pushes in. I cry out and throw my head back. He starts thrusting, his face knotted in concentration. He's so red in the face...I want to scream, it feels so good...so hard, so fast..."Let me put my legs on your shoulders, it'll hurt and feel really good!" I choke out. He tries to grab my legs but I'm too fast. I hook them over his shoulder blades and instantly feel the difference. HOLY SHIT. He thrusts and thrusts without stopping and I can't stop from crying out every time I feel him hit the spot...is it my cervix? I can't tell and frankly I don't care..."Can you feel yourself hitting that, baby?" I manage to groan. He can't even talk, he just quickly nods and looks down at me with this panicked look of pleasure and confusion. I can't wait anymore...I come violently and feel myself contract on his dick. "Oh fuck!!" I scream and quickly cover my mouth so the neighbors don't hear. He looks at me wide eyed and collapses on my chest. We both are breathing hard, like we've been running all night. I hold him against me and swear every single dirty word in the book. "You ready to pull out?" I ask, incredibly frazzled. He nods and counts: "One...two...three..." and he slips out with a wet sound. "Did you come?" I ask as I glance at his balls and his now flaccid penis wrapped in the condom (the male genitalia is so weird)..."Yeah, I did. I spent a lot of it earlier though...you got me good earlier." He asks for a tissue and we dispose of the condom. He asks to use my restroom, too. We get back in bed when he returns and talk a little before noticing that it's nearly 3 am. Time to head back home. He says he doesn't feel right spending the night over at my place. "I mean we already fuck in [Dan's] house...I don't think we should add sleeping in the man's place, too" he explains. I shrug, a little disappointed but understanding, "Okay. That's fine. I was planning on making you breakfast in the morning" I flirt...he laughs and says it's incredibly tempting but we should go. "Just say the word and we'll go" I say and he nods and answers, "The word..." Ugh. Silly boy.
Getting dressed is always a sad practice...but it's fun because we talk and make fun of each other...I let my eyes wander over him as I see him pull his shirt over his head...I briefly catch a glimpse at his flat stomach....next time I'm eating strawberries dipped in chocolate off those abs. He complains that he's a bit scrawny....I shake my head and say he isn't.
We make sure everything is back in it's place and ritualistically wash our cups and take out the trash. He reminds me to turn off the light. I wonder if my neighbors heard a peep?
The drive home is even sadder than our clean up...but we hold hands and talk about all of our plans. I will be out of my lease in 4 months...I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I don't think Ed is going to be standing there, waiting to take me in his arms...
"I'm scared of changing anything in the relationship we" he says, "It sucks when two people want different things." I don't know who he is trying to convince...me or him. I tell him it's true...I want to be single for a while (and this part is true)...I can't function as Suzie Homemaker and play wifey...I want to be on my own and do what I want...he shakes his head, "Okay but just don't get jaded about the whole thing." I explain to him that I can't get jaded now...I've fallen in and out of love and still come back for more with a refreshed outlook...he asks if I was one of those guys that have hurt me in the past. I shake my head, "No, honey. I just like being with you."
He confirms somewhere on the 101/134 split that he indeed thinks about me when he jerks off. Somehow that makes me feel better.
So we both agree that taking this to the next level probably won't work...we're stuck in a weird limbo...in an affair that thrives on secrecy...on a bond that looks good on paper, but will crumble once we try to introduce complicated feelings...I know that I'd wind up hurt..."You only see one side of me" he reasons....the same could be said about me. He's only ever seen me doe-eyed, cock hungry and drunk...even when we've just sat there and talked, it's always so brief before we're swapping bodily fluids. He's never seen me sick, on my period, bloated or cranky...he's never had to handle my shit like Dan has. I'm too scared of what he'd see.
We get to the Starbucks parking lot and rejoice that yet again I was not towed. I lean over and kiss him like 8 times before I pull away...before I go I get a bright idea. I reach for my cell phone and try to snap a picture of his Tiger Army t-shirt. He laughs and asks what the hell I'm doing as I push away his jacket and seat belt sash. "I want this as my wallpaper for my phone!" He scoffs, "And you can't download it off the web..." He doesn't understand. I explain that I want this picture because it'll be a part of him that I can carry around passive aggressively behind Dan's back...I can't have any actual pictures of him. But it's too dark. So I quickly snap a picture of the clock on his dashboard of his trusty Toyota Solara. "People will ask why you have a picture of 3:31 on your phone..." I shrug "Fuck 'em. None of their business."
I step out and say thank you. He thanks me back and waves. "And please, for the love of God, be good!" I say and he smiles to himself.
4 months...we've been seeing each other every 4 months...16 weeks to get wound up all over again. This boy is making me eat myself up with desire...I can't be in love with him. I can't possess him. He's just like all these clandestine meetings. My best kept secret that no one else can know. And it kills me inside.
We talk about the passing of our friend and the tragedy of the situation...I confirm the rumor that yes, it was pills and alcohol. Edgar says he didn't feel right attending the funeral having not talked to our friend in such a long time...also, the thought of having to face me and Dan together was a little too awkward...he said his friend (who would have accompanied to the funeral) was joking about screaming "Edgar fucked your girlfriend!" to Dan. Funny...
He grabs my hand and holds it sweetly. I apologize for how icy they must feel...he warms them up by blowing his breath on them...I giggle and he smiles, "Yeah that probably didn't work..."
We make our usual spot-on conversation complete with hilarious digressions and anecdotes...I look out the window and watch southeast L.A. speed past us...I see a piece of a bumper (or fender?) sitting in the emergency lane next to us...he swerves to the right a little to avoid it..."Whoa!!" he says and mutters that it's a rear end spoiler...I stand corrected.
I love how we can just talk and talk and we never run out of things to say...such a stark contrast to Dan...we run out of conversation before we even get home...he's usually sound asleep, snoring...I love how Ed takes hold of the steering wheel and makes me forget my troubles...I watch him drive there in the dark, his face intermittently being lit up by the headlights of passing motorists...he looks amazing..the cities run by us in a blur: Whittier, El Monte, Montebello, Monterey Park, East L.A., Downtown, Hollywood, Universal City, Studio City, Glendale, Burbank, Sherman Oaks, Tarzana...and then Reseda..."Is this you?" he asks as we approach Balboa...I shake my head..."I'm on Reseda Blvd., the next one actually." So this is really happening, huh?
We arrive at my apartment and make ourselves comfortable...he remarks that my place isn't as cold as it was last time..."It's April! Now it's only 60 degrees!" I laugh as I get him a glass for his drink and a small shot glass for mine...
"Can you do me a favor? You're taller than I am..can you get the bottle?" I ask coyly with a smile...he happily obliges and I watch him reach up on his tip toes to open the top cabinet. He holds the bottle of JW Blue almost lovingly and smiles at me: "Now aren't you glad I convinced you to get this? It's the best investment ever." I burst into laughter and insist he was only PART of the reason. I tap the glass bottle, "It's a boy magnet. Best birthday present ever." He kisses me abruptly...a kiss turns into a caress...suddenly he's got me pinned against the counter, next to the sink...his lips trailing from my open mouth to my neck, to my ear...he runs his fingers through my hair and I'm drowning in this good feeling...I grip the waistline of his jeans and steady myself...he's touching my breast, my stomach, my crotch...oh God, it's a dizzying heat of open mouth kisses punctuated by the delight of his soft, wet tongue in my mouth...I linger my tongue on his..every time I pull away coquettishly from his kisses and lightly push him away, he pulls me closer and buries his warm mouth on my neck and chest...I giggle happily "Fuck...you drive me crazy!" He meets my gaze and arches an eyebrow "Do you want me to stop? I'll stop if you want me to...just tell me." I bite my lip and shake my head, "Keep going." I rest my arms on his shoulder blades and we kiss until I feel his erection on my hip. The air feels electric...I manage to break the spell and playfully pull away. I stumble a little and grab his glass "Uhmm...do you want ice?" I laugh as I wipe the taste of my own lip gloss from the corner of my mouth. He answers quickly: "Yes, please. Three cubes." I smack the ice tray against the counter and drop in the cubes *clink clink clink* He pours himself a drink and fills my shot glass up. We clink our glasses and toast to our fallen friend at Edgar's suggestion. And down the hatch it goes...uhghhhhh...it burns! But so good! He swallows a mouthful and grins.
The whisky works down my system, starting out in my throat, down my chest and finally settling in my stomach....I grab a Smirnoff Ice and he opens it for me, "It's a twist off!" he laughs and I have to tell him the story about the time I tried to open a twist off in the dark, drunk on my 22nd birthday with a bottle opener and how I slashed my thumb. I bled everywhere and had to be rescued by my roomate's then-EMT boyfriend. "And since then I always have someone else open twist offs for me."
As the alcohol starts to penetrate our system and we drink more, the stories and loud laughter start coming...he proclaims that when we gets into law school he's going to buy himself a bottle of JW Blue Label King George V Edition..."That's like $600 a bottle!" I remark and he nods with confidence. "How about I give you the rest of this bottle when you get into law school, as a present?" I joke. "I'll take it!" he agrees. Somehow the conversation meanders over to speaking Spanish and how we're both not very good at it...we start speaking Spanish to each other, laughing in loud bursts when we forget the right word or trip over our pronunciation. We keep correcting each other and it's just so stupid...in my tipsy stupor he explains that his family is actually from Culiacán, a city in northwestern Mexico in the state of Sinaloa. I was close!
He leads me back to the couch and we set our drinks down on the coffee table. "So I'm thinking of getting my own place by June in Long Beach. I found the perfect studio so I'm saving up my money." I happily congratulate him...so maybe he's staying here after all...yesss!!! "Well, make sure to invite me for the housewarming" I say as I take a long drink from my strawberry flavored Smirnoff. It's only a matter of time before we're making out again like two love-starved teenagers. I remember being a dorky high school freshman geek with glasses, pining desperately over punk rocker Edgar...and here he is on my couch 11 years later, running his hands all over me, hungrily kissing my mouth...I quietly give my 15 year old awkward self props while Ed marvels over my breasts. He caresses my nipples over my shirt and smiles to himself as he feels how hard they are. God this is so hot.
I come up for air and glance over at him as he sits only inches away from me. I smile at him as I nervously nibble on my cuticle. He pushes my hand away and fastens his mouth back on me. Very, very hot. "Admit, you don't want me to stop" he breathes and I sigh near his lips and close my eyes. I don't want this feeling to ever end. How can I keep this forever? We compose ourselves for a little bit and try to sit at opposite ends of the little couch. We drink more and chat, everything punctuated by my drunken giggle and his carefree chuckle. His ice has melted into his whisky but he relishes every drink. I stare at him with ravenous eyes. I love the way his arms look, lean and with a little muscle peeking out from the short sleeve of his navy blue Tiger Army shirt...it's the cover of Ghost Tigers Rise. He has a mole on his bicep just like I do, on the right arm. He leans back on the couch and pulls me close. We talk even more intensely, now in hushed whispers. I look into his gaze, his eyes are little slits....they're almost closed...he frightens me and turns me on at the same time. "You're so beautiful. Did you know that?" he murmurs and kisses me hard. "You're so beautiful. Don't ever change who you are...a very wise person told me that once" he whispers in my ear. I smile, "I think that was me, right?" He nods and we switch....now he's pressing my back on the couch...I'm almost horizontal, no longer sitting on the couch...he lays his head on my chest and tells me he'd love to fall asleep like this. Then he works on taking my bra off. Oh boy.
He fiddles with the clasps. I shake my head, "Bras are like algebra to boys." He manages to unhook the first two clasps. "Hey! I got it!" he says triumphantly. "Great...keep practicing and one day you'll be able to do it in the dark, with your eyes closed, using your left hand." As soon as I finish talking he's pulled my bra off. "I did do it with my left hand!" he says smugly and pushes my shirt up..."Alright, a black bra...you knew you were going to see me, huh?" he muses and kisses me again. I clasp my arms against my chest to hold up my breasts but it's no use...the girls have gone wild.
He takes my hand and makes me touch his hard erection over his jeans. "That's what you do to me" he says with this devilish grin. I sneak my fingers through the zipper of his jeans and past the waistband of his boxer briefs....I feel his hard-on and crave him enormously. I would rip the fly off his pants, if I could!! "God, you really do drive me crazy" I hiss as I watch him pull his cock out. We kiss as I fasten my hand on his dick. I stop suddenly and look at him through nearly-closed eyes, "Hand jobs are so useless when you've got a blow job waiting for you." I slide down to the floor and slip his shaft right into my mouth. He groans immediately and reclines on the couch as I work him furiously with my mouth. He sinks his fingers into my hair, pulling it slightly. Annoying but guys love doing it. I let him....his chest is rising and falling rapidly...he's breathing so ragged now. I lick him with delight, imaging he's a melting ice cream cone. He can't even talk, he's so far gone....I suck him all the way to the hairy root of his cock, deep throating him like a pro. He grips harder on my hair and pushes me down on his dick. Okay, I get it. I match the movements of his arm and pick up the pace. I wrap my tongue around the base of his shaft as I push my mouth down, then drag it back up to the tip when I retract. He looks like he's going to come soon, his face is flushed red and contorted in what can only be perceived as a mixture of pleasure and pain. I take a deep breath and continue to deep throat him. I go so deep that my ear presses against his lower belly. I hear his stomach digesting. Weird! His dick is wet and slippery as I work him mercilessly. My mouth and his dick makes those familiar wet, gushing sounds that drive me wild. I moan in a pleading tone and signal with a thumbs up, as if to ask him "Almost?" He understands and shakes his head, "Yes. Yes. Almost!" he groans as I continue. It's a matter of seconds and then suddenly he says something like, "Right now..." and my mouth is filled with hot, salty semen. I swallow quickly, almost caught by surprise and lick him clean. We collapse together on the couch and take a breather. "Wow! That was good! My lips are numb!" I exclaim. He laughs hard and kisses me, "The alcohol made that one last a while...I did have two glasses of wine before picking you up.."
Oh whisky dick. I can't be mad at you. :)
He suggests we take the fun to the bedroom. We race to the bedroom and clothes start coming off. Sublime is our soundtrack as he props himself up on his side (I do the same) and he quickly reaches between my legs. He wastes no time finding my clit. I don't feel wet yet and he rubs at it stubbornly. I shiver and quake as he hits the right spot, teasing me and then giving it all to me. I come in a matter of minutes, in spite of myself. I didn't want to yet but his naked body next to me was enough. I cling to him, my nails scratching his back as he rubs my clit again. I murmur words of encouragement, moaning in pleasure. "Say my name...say my name..." he whispers and I give in...I say his name over and over, like it'll make me come hard or something. He pushes me onto my back as he takes my right nipple in his mouth and works his fingers between my legs. I arch my back and cry out. So fucking good. He sucks on my breasts like a mad man. "Easy, easy, easy..." I breathe...but I don't want it to stop.
We wrap ourselves around each other like feverish, hot snakes...two lovers battling it out in bed..."Pawnshop" by Sublime plays softly as we both groan in pleasure. I kiss his soft neck and shoulder blades...his chest gets a barrage of wet kisses, too. I run my hands all over his arms, his back, his tight ass. I can't hold it in anymore. I look into his dark, smoldering eyes: "Oh God, please fuck me!!" I cry hoarsely. He reaches for the condom, a Trojan in gold foil. He mounts me and slowly enters me. I feel his cock widening me as he pushes in. I cry out and throw my head back. He starts thrusting, his face knotted in concentration. He's so red in the face...I want to scream, it feels so good...so hard, so fast..."Let me put my legs on your shoulders, it'll hurt and feel really good!" I choke out. He tries to grab my legs but I'm too fast. I hook them over his shoulder blades and instantly feel the difference. HOLY SHIT. He thrusts and thrusts without stopping and I can't stop from crying out every time I feel him hit the spot...is it my cervix? I can't tell and frankly I don't care..."Can you feel yourself hitting that, baby?" I manage to groan. He can't even talk, he just quickly nods and looks down at me with this panicked look of pleasure and confusion. I can't wait anymore...I come violently and feel myself contract on his dick. "Oh fuck!!" I scream and quickly cover my mouth so the neighbors don't hear. He looks at me wide eyed and collapses on my chest. We both are breathing hard, like we've been running all night. I hold him against me and swear every single dirty word in the book. "You ready to pull out?" I ask, incredibly frazzled. He nods and counts: "One...two...three..." and he slips out with a wet sound. "Did you come?" I ask as I glance at his balls and his now flaccid penis wrapped in the condom (the male genitalia is so weird)..."Yeah, I did. I spent a lot of it earlier though...you got me good earlier." He asks for a tissue and we dispose of the condom. He asks to use my restroom, too. We get back in bed when he returns and talk a little before noticing that it's nearly 3 am. Time to head back home. He says he doesn't feel right spending the night over at my place. "I mean we already fuck in [Dan's] house...I don't think we should add sleeping in the man's place, too" he explains. I shrug, a little disappointed but understanding, "Okay. That's fine. I was planning on making you breakfast in the morning" I flirt...he laughs and says it's incredibly tempting but we should go. "Just say the word and we'll go" I say and he nods and answers, "The word..." Ugh. Silly boy.
Getting dressed is always a sad practice...but it's fun because we talk and make fun of each other...I let my eyes wander over him as I see him pull his shirt over his head...I briefly catch a glimpse at his flat stomach....next time I'm eating strawberries dipped in chocolate off those abs. He complains that he's a bit scrawny....I shake my head and say he isn't.
We make sure everything is back in it's place and ritualistically wash our cups and take out the trash. He reminds me to turn off the light. I wonder if my neighbors heard a peep?
The drive home is even sadder than our clean up...but we hold hands and talk about all of our plans. I will be out of my lease in 4 months...I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I don't think Ed is going to be standing there, waiting to take me in his arms...
"I'm scared of changing anything in the relationship we" he says, "It sucks when two people want different things." I don't know who he is trying to convince...me or him. I tell him it's true...I want to be single for a while (and this part is true)...I can't function as Suzie Homemaker and play wifey...I want to be on my own and do what I want...he shakes his head, "Okay but just don't get jaded about the whole thing." I explain to him that I can't get jaded now...I've fallen in and out of love and still come back for more with a refreshed outlook...he asks if I was one of those guys that have hurt me in the past. I shake my head, "No, honey. I just like being with you."
He confirms somewhere on the 101/134 split that he indeed thinks about me when he jerks off. Somehow that makes me feel better.
So we both agree that taking this to the next level probably won't work...we're stuck in a weird limbo...in an affair that thrives on secrecy...on a bond that looks good on paper, but will crumble once we try to introduce complicated feelings...I know that I'd wind up hurt..."You only see one side of me" he reasons....the same could be said about me. He's only ever seen me doe-eyed, cock hungry and drunk...even when we've just sat there and talked, it's always so brief before we're swapping bodily fluids. He's never seen me sick, on my period, bloated or cranky...he's never had to handle my shit like Dan has. I'm too scared of what he'd see.
We get to the Starbucks parking lot and rejoice that yet again I was not towed. I lean over and kiss him like 8 times before I pull away...before I go I get a bright idea. I reach for my cell phone and try to snap a picture of his Tiger Army t-shirt. He laughs and asks what the hell I'm doing as I push away his jacket and seat belt sash. "I want this as my wallpaper for my phone!" He scoffs, "And you can't download it off the web..." He doesn't understand. I explain that I want this picture because it'll be a part of him that I can carry around passive aggressively behind Dan's back...I can't have any actual pictures of him. But it's too dark. So I quickly snap a picture of the clock on his dashboard of his trusty Toyota Solara. "People will ask why you have a picture of 3:31 on your phone..." I shrug "Fuck 'em. None of their business."
I step out and say thank you. He thanks me back and waves. "And please, for the love of God, be good!" I say and he smiles to himself.
4 months...we've been seeing each other every 4 months...16 weeks to get wound up all over again. This boy is making me eat myself up with desire...I can't be in love with him. I can't possess him. He's just like all these clandestine meetings. My best kept secret that no one else can know. And it kills me inside.
Monday, April 12, 2010
The little deaths....and a funeral
He came through....Edgar finally made a half-way decent promise and delivered...though the circumstances were a bit sad and morbid.
An old classmate of ours from high school passed away. Painkillers and alcohol. He suffered a heart attack, his heart stopped, that was it. It makes you so incredibly ill with sadness...a young life extinguished. I made plans to attend the funeral...this boy had also been a good friend of Dan's. I wasn't thinking about anything other than trying to keep my fellow colleagues updated on funeral information and what not...and then I get a message from Ed.
Edgar April 7 at 10:13am
What happened to [our friend]?
me April 7 at 10:15am
He passed away on April 1st. I am finding out how he died. His service and viewing is on Sat. Let met know if you want details. I'm going of course, he was good friends with Dan.
this sucks, Ed...he would have turned 26 yesterday.
Edgar April 7 at 10:25am
yeah i know
me April 7 at 12:46pm
I think you and I had tentatively made plans to hang out this coming Saturday night. As I'm sure you're aware, I will be in L.A. at the funeral in the early afternoon....
I'll be spending the night at my mom's in Whittier. I don't have plans anymore. Honestly, I really don't want to be alone that night. Hopefully we can make it happen this time and hang out....I'm sure you'll let me know. Thanks
I felt stupid after clicking send...it sounded like I was trying to use this boy's death to hook up with Edgar...I wasn't...I was trying to convey my sense of shock, disbelief and self-reflection...people my age don't die! We're too young!!! I didn't want to be left along to stew in my thoughts over the inevitable...I didn't want to think about how brief life could really be. I didn't want to face the idea that one day I could also be gone...
Edgar surprised me by actually calling me up on Friday night...I panicked when I saw the caller ID and his name flashed across my phone's screen...Dan was standing a mere 2 feet away from me at the movie theater ticket counter. I rejected the call.
He left a voicemail....my insides both sank and soared at the same time...I pressed the phone to my ear in the movie theater restroom and nearly sank in the toilet when I heard his voice.
"Hey [you] its Edgar. Uhm, can you do me a favor and please text me the information for [our friend's] funeral tomorrow. You have my number so please get a hold of me..."
Oh God. Oh God. He's serious...he's going...shit shit shit...
I discreetly sent a text to see what he wanted before I had heard the voicemail...the rest of the conversation involved me having to send some of the most hidden and fastest texts ever...I even stepped out of Clash of the Titans (in 3-D mind you) to get this over with...
me: Cant talk. Text me please.
Edgar: Need info [for his] funeral.
me: I'm not near a computer or Facebook. I will try to get it for u sometime tonight.
Edgar: Thanks.
me: [I send the funeral info].
me: I assume u got the funeral info. See ya.
Edgar: Thanks.
Ahhhh...his mono-syllabic speech patterns are so refreshing...(yeah right)
I was half convinced he would never show up to the funeral. He knew Dan would be there. I couldn't have my secret life and my normal life collide like that. We didn't need anymore death in this funeral. The other half of me lived in dread. What if he did show up? What would I say? How would the three of us act? How can I look hot in black but still be somber? What. the. fuck.
Thankfully, he didn't show up. Believe me, I craned my neck enough. The funeral was a traditional Japanese one. I didn't cry. Not even when I put a white flower on my dead classmate's chest as he laid there in his coffin, gray and with his eyes closed. I hugged his family and said I was sorry for their loss. It killed me inside. One would think I'd be used to this feeling. Seeing all of my old friends from high school was very pleasant. We all made loose plans to hang out on happier terms. I realized on the ride home I really wanted to see Ed. But maybe it was better this way.
I stewed nonetheless at home. Death, life, love, anger, sadness...all of these feelings swirling...I pondered my own mortality...
I watched my beloved Dodgers lose to the Florida Marlins. Ed is probably watching this game, too surrounded by his buddies. My face twitched. That familiar urge galloped in my insides. I reached for my phone.
me: Just watched the dodgers lose...again. Did u go to the funeral?
(I knew the answer. I held my breath)
Edgar: No. Did u?
me: yeah, it was a traditional Japanese funeral. i didn't cry but i almost did when i hugged his parents.
Edgar: That sucks.
me: Totally. So what's up...we hanging out tonight or are you off on an adventure?
Edgar: Yeah, let's get some drinks around 11.
me: 11 it is. Want to meet at the same Starbucks parking lot?
Edgar: Sure.
me: See ya then.
I wore my new Bad Religion shirt...jeans...eyeliner...my nails painted black...my niece straightened my hair and it looked incredibly smooth.
He called at 10:50. "Don't fucking cancel on me, jerk" my vagina screamed.
No worries. He told me was running a bit late but was on his way...he'd call me when he was nearby so I could take off. I chattered nervously around my family and got my things ready. My mind ran in circles imagining all the things I'd do to him.
11:08 - he says he's about 5 minutes away. He sounds so relaxed...so at ease...I strain to sound composed but the excitement creeps into my voice and I think I sound hyper. God only knows how I don't snap my keys in half getting into my car. I listen to my favorite radio station on the way over, happily singing along to every song that comes on. I pull into the Starbucks parking lot...our designated spot. I see his White Solara parked under the bright lights of the lot's lamp post. I pull up next to him, one spot between us. I calmly turn off my engine (OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD) and grab my purse. My overnight bag sits on the floor of my passenger side (I WANT HIM I WANT HIM) and I glance over at him sideways...he smiles at me and starts to get out (I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU SO FUCKING HARD).
We embrace in the chilly air and bullshit about where we want to go...we both agree that all the bars in Whittier suck and will be closing in another 45 minutes...so to Reseda it is, where there's Johnnie Walker Blue Label and a warm bed. We take off but I make him go back for my overnight bag before we've even driven a block. In all of my excitement, I forgot about the possible sleep over. I don't think about sleep, though. All I want is sex, kisses, blowjobs and orgasms. My stomach flutters. My pussy aches for him.
Let's save a separate entry for all that in the next post....
An old classmate of ours from high school passed away. Painkillers and alcohol. He suffered a heart attack, his heart stopped, that was it. It makes you so incredibly ill with sadness...a young life extinguished. I made plans to attend the funeral...this boy had also been a good friend of Dan's. I wasn't thinking about anything other than trying to keep my fellow colleagues updated on funeral information and what not...and then I get a message from Ed.
Edgar April 7 at 10:13am
What happened to [our friend]?
me April 7 at 10:15am
He passed away on April 1st. I am finding out how he died. His service and viewing is on Sat. Let met know if you want details. I'm going of course, he was good friends with Dan.
this sucks, Ed...he would have turned 26 yesterday.
Edgar April 7 at 10:25am
yeah i know
me April 7 at 12:46pm
I think you and I had tentatively made plans to hang out this coming Saturday night. As I'm sure you're aware, I will be in L.A. at the funeral in the early afternoon....
I'll be spending the night at my mom's in Whittier. I don't have plans anymore. Honestly, I really don't want to be alone that night. Hopefully we can make it happen this time and hang out....I'm sure you'll let me know. Thanks
I felt stupid after clicking send...it sounded like I was trying to use this boy's death to hook up with Edgar...I wasn't...I was trying to convey my sense of shock, disbelief and self-reflection...people my age don't die! We're too young!!! I didn't want to be left along to stew in my thoughts over the inevitable...I didn't want to think about how brief life could really be. I didn't want to face the idea that one day I could also be gone...
Edgar surprised me by actually calling me up on Friday night...I panicked when I saw the caller ID and his name flashed across my phone's screen...Dan was standing a mere 2 feet away from me at the movie theater ticket counter. I rejected the call.
He left a voicemail....my insides both sank and soared at the same time...I pressed the phone to my ear in the movie theater restroom and nearly sank in the toilet when I heard his voice.
"Hey [you] its Edgar. Uhm, can you do me a favor and please text me the information for [our friend's] funeral tomorrow. You have my number so please get a hold of me..."
Oh God. Oh God. He's serious...he's going...shit shit shit...
I discreetly sent a text to see what he wanted before I had heard the voicemail...the rest of the conversation involved me having to send some of the most hidden and fastest texts ever...I even stepped out of Clash of the Titans (in 3-D mind you) to get this over with...
me: Cant talk. Text me please.
Edgar: Need info [for his] funeral.
me: I'm not near a computer or Facebook. I will try to get it for u sometime tonight.
Edgar: Thanks.
me: [I send the funeral info].
me: I assume u got the funeral info. See ya.
Edgar: Thanks.
Ahhhh...his mono-syllabic speech patterns are so refreshing...(yeah right)
I was half convinced he would never show up to the funeral. He knew Dan would be there. I couldn't have my secret life and my normal life collide like that. We didn't need anymore death in this funeral. The other half of me lived in dread. What if he did show up? What would I say? How would the three of us act? How can I look hot in black but still be somber? What. the. fuck.
Thankfully, he didn't show up. Believe me, I craned my neck enough. The funeral was a traditional Japanese one. I didn't cry. Not even when I put a white flower on my dead classmate's chest as he laid there in his coffin, gray and with his eyes closed. I hugged his family and said I was sorry for their loss. It killed me inside. One would think I'd be used to this feeling. Seeing all of my old friends from high school was very pleasant. We all made loose plans to hang out on happier terms. I realized on the ride home I really wanted to see Ed. But maybe it was better this way.
I stewed nonetheless at home. Death, life, love, anger, sadness...all of these feelings swirling...I pondered my own mortality...
I watched my beloved Dodgers lose to the Florida Marlins. Ed is probably watching this game, too surrounded by his buddies. My face twitched. That familiar urge galloped in my insides. I reached for my phone.
me: Just watched the dodgers lose...again. Did u go to the funeral?
(I knew the answer. I held my breath)
Edgar: No. Did u?
me: yeah, it was a traditional Japanese funeral. i didn't cry but i almost did when i hugged his parents.
Edgar: That sucks.
me: Totally. So what's up...we hanging out tonight or are you off on an adventure?
Edgar: Yeah, let's get some drinks around 11.
me: 11 it is. Want to meet at the same Starbucks parking lot?
Edgar: Sure.
me: See ya then.
I wore my new Bad Religion shirt...jeans...eyeliner...my nails painted black...my niece straightened my hair and it looked incredibly smooth.
He called at 10:50. "Don't fucking cancel on me, jerk" my vagina screamed.
No worries. He told me was running a bit late but was on his way...he'd call me when he was nearby so I could take off. I chattered nervously around my family and got my things ready. My mind ran in circles imagining all the things I'd do to him.
11:08 - he says he's about 5 minutes away. He sounds so relaxed...so at ease...I strain to sound composed but the excitement creeps into my voice and I think I sound hyper. God only knows how I don't snap my keys in half getting into my car. I listen to my favorite radio station on the way over, happily singing along to every song that comes on. I pull into the Starbucks parking lot...our designated spot. I see his White Solara parked under the bright lights of the lot's lamp post. I pull up next to him, one spot between us. I calmly turn off my engine (OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD) and grab my purse. My overnight bag sits on the floor of my passenger side (I WANT HIM I WANT HIM) and I glance over at him sideways...he smiles at me and starts to get out (I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU SO FUCKING HARD).
We embrace in the chilly air and bullshit about where we want to go...we both agree that all the bars in Whittier suck and will be closing in another 45 minutes...so to Reseda it is, where there's Johnnie Walker Blue Label and a warm bed. We take off but I make him go back for my overnight bag before we've even driven a block. In all of my excitement, I forgot about the possible sleep over. I don't think about sleep, though. All I want is sex, kisses, blowjobs and orgasms. My stomach flutters. My pussy aches for him.
Let's save a separate entry for all that in the next post....
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
And there's a taste in my mouth as desperation takes hold...
So Edgar's obsessed with me....
My post: Can someone tell the kiddies on Super Sweet Sixteen that Ed Hardy did not exist in the 80s and thus makes their 80's themed party quite lame.
him: the question is why r u watching super sweet 16?
me: Edgar, I was flipping through the channels on my lunch break and I was blinded by the sight of neon-day-glow colors and douchiness..I had to stop and look.
him: well then i cant blame you then can i?
I suppose keeping a journal of my musings every time he comments on my superficial babble is obsessive in itself, right?
(sigh sigh sigh)
I just wish I knew what his hang-ups were...what is tinkering away in his brain...why he seeks me out only to ignore me for days, weeks, months at a time...I don't know what this stinging sweetness is I feel for him...it makes me forget I have a boyfriend...it makes me wish I wasn't at work...all I want is for him, for me, for us to be different...to indulge and give in...to always be happy together...quite simply, to just be together.
My post: Can someone tell the kiddies on Super Sweet Sixteen that Ed Hardy did not exist in the 80s and thus makes their 80's themed party quite lame.
him: the question is why r u watching super sweet 16?
me: Edgar, I was flipping through the channels on my lunch break and I was blinded by the sight of neon-day-glow colors and douchiness..I had to stop and look.
him: well then i cant blame you then can i?
I suppose keeping a journal of my musings every time he comments on my superficial babble is obsessive in itself, right?
(sigh sigh sigh)
I just wish I knew what his hang-ups were...what is tinkering away in his brain...why he seeks me out only to ignore me for days, weeks, months at a time...I don't know what this stinging sweetness is I feel for him...it makes me forget I have a boyfriend...it makes me wish I wasn't at work...all I want is for him, for me, for us to be different...to indulge and give in...to always be happy together...quite simply, to just be together.
Monday, April 5, 2010
I'm gonna need you to say something baby....
I was satisfied with Edgar throwing mono-syllabic answers to my Facebook status posts...but then I decided to up the ante.
Like a game of chicken...
Driving back from a hockey game, I realized that I had no plans for the rest of my Saturday night...even my mom had left for the night...I didn't want to be alone...so I dropped Dan off at his mom's house and pulled over on Beverly Blvd. I dialed Edgar...my heart revved up and I knew this was severely breaking my Lenten promise...tomorrow's Easter, we're done anyway right? UGH SO FUCKING WEAK.
Maybe he won't answer.
But he does answer.
His family is in town from Tijuana, Mexico. They're his mother's relatives, originating from Coyoacán, a town in Mexico's Federal District. I tell him my favorite painter is from there...Frida Kahlo. I'm sure she would have found a better way to express this unrelenting desire I have for this boy...if only I was more creative...
But the words dribble out of me like clumsy, strung-together pick up lines..."I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight or something?" OH GOD. HERE IT COMES.
I must be a masochist....he must be a sadist...of course he turns me down, always apologetic and always sweetly..."I really, really want to but my relatives have blocked my car in and I can't get out tonight. They even asked me if I had plans for the night and I said nope...now I'm stuck here playing video games with my brother while my dog sits between us on the floor."
I can't say I've heard that one before. And he won't let me pick him up because everyone and their mother is at his house, ready to pounce on him if he makes the slightest move elsewhere. I am annoyed. And I don't bother trying to hide it this time. I quickly tell him that I have to go...I'll find something else to do...
"Hold on, hold on...wait...let's try for next weekend? Come on, next Saturday..."
I hesitate. I don't want to be left open and defenseless again. I ask what date that is...
"April 10th...what do you think?" he wonders out loud.
Is he serious? Is he planning a date? Or giving me false hope? My mind races.
"I don't know. Put me down for maybe. I think I'm doing something that night but I'm not sure. I'll text you." I say quickly...my mouth runs faster than my mind. Maybe? Maybe?
I know that ultimately, I will break whatever plans I have with Dan to make this happen. My stomach churns in anticipation and nervousness. We hang up and I erase his call from my log.
Great. Now I'm stuck here wondering if he'll come through...this whole week is going to be torture. If this weren't such a self-inflicted move, I'd have a real case against him.
All I can do is wait...and give him a reply later in the week so I don't seem desperate. BECAUSE I'M A GIRL AND ALL WE DO IS PLAY GAMES.
One would imagine that having an irregular lover would be less nerve-wracking.
Like a game of chicken...
Driving back from a hockey game, I realized that I had no plans for the rest of my Saturday night...even my mom had left for the night...I didn't want to be alone...so I dropped Dan off at his mom's house and pulled over on Beverly Blvd. I dialed Edgar...my heart revved up and I knew this was severely breaking my Lenten promise...tomorrow's Easter, we're done anyway right? UGH SO FUCKING WEAK.
Maybe he won't answer.
But he does answer.
His family is in town from Tijuana, Mexico. They're his mother's relatives, originating from Coyoacán, a town in Mexico's Federal District. I tell him my favorite painter is from there...Frida Kahlo. I'm sure she would have found a better way to express this unrelenting desire I have for this boy...if only I was more creative...
But the words dribble out of me like clumsy, strung-together pick up lines..."I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight or something?" OH GOD. HERE IT COMES.
I must be a masochist....he must be a sadist...of course he turns me down, always apologetic and always sweetly..."I really, really want to but my relatives have blocked my car in and I can't get out tonight. They even asked me if I had plans for the night and I said nope...now I'm stuck here playing video games with my brother while my dog sits between us on the floor."
I can't say I've heard that one before. And he won't let me pick him up because everyone and their mother is at his house, ready to pounce on him if he makes the slightest move elsewhere. I am annoyed. And I don't bother trying to hide it this time. I quickly tell him that I have to go...I'll find something else to do...
"Hold on, hold on...wait...let's try for next weekend? Come on, next Saturday..."
I hesitate. I don't want to be left open and defenseless again. I ask what date that is...
"April 10th...what do you think?" he wonders out loud.
Is he serious? Is he planning a date? Or giving me false hope? My mind races.
"I don't know. Put me down for maybe. I think I'm doing something that night but I'm not sure. I'll text you." I say quickly...my mouth runs faster than my mind. Maybe? Maybe?
I know that ultimately, I will break whatever plans I have with Dan to make this happen. My stomach churns in anticipation and nervousness. We hang up and I erase his call from my log.
Great. Now I'm stuck here wondering if he'll come through...this whole week is going to be torture. If this weren't such a self-inflicted move, I'd have a real case against him.
All I can do is wait...and give him a reply later in the week so I don't seem desperate. BECAUSE I'M A GIRL AND ALL WE DO IS PLAY GAMES.
One would imagine that having an irregular lover would be less nerve-wracking.
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