2/3/10

ENCOURAGER NOTES

TWO TIMES I REALIZED THAT WE COULD NEVER BE TOGETHER, and I KNEW THAT IT WAS OKAY:

1. When you slept over that night, on a weeknight, even though we both had to go to our corporate temp jobs in the morning. I wanted it to be special. We argued on the phone about how it sucked that it was Tuesday and we were both so busy that we wouldn't be able to see each other all week. You were sort of whiny, and complained that you wished we could hang out sooner. There was a long pause on the phone.

"I mean," you said, "like... do you want me to come over, tonight? Cause I could." Of course I wanted you to come over. You took a car even though it's a really short walk, but it was Tuesday night and we were both making good money up on 43rd Street (in TV and Film advertising companies, respectively). You showed up at my door wearing a hoodie and pajama bottoms. You had an overnight bag with your stuff for work, the next day's outfit, your toothbrush, contact lenses, lube and condoms and a candy bar for us to share. You said you were really sleepy. We brushed our teeth together, and you rolled your eyes at me because you said I did mine too fast. I was embarassed that you'd think I had bad dental hygiene, but I was also really turned on by watching us brush our teeth together in the mirror. Our mouths getting foamy together. You chastized me for leaving the faucet running while I was brushing my teeth, because it was a waste of water. I kicked you out of the bathroom cause I had to pee, and I get stage fright. You understood and went to bed. When I got back to my bedroom you were smoking my weed and wearing only your underpants. Grinning.

I put on this mix of songs I had put together for us to fuck to. I was secretly really proud of it. It was mostly embarassing trip-hop stuff (I don't know why but Tricky really turns me on). But I remember that towards the beginning of the mix I had put a bunch of Calvin Johnson songs on it. So many things turn me on, all of us on. But the sound of Calvin Johnson's voice always does it, every time. I mean, he's a crooner. He's gorgeous. I'm getting flustered just writing about it. But I put on his song "Can We Kiss?" and I thought you'd really like it. I climbed into bed and put my arms around you and you said:

"Hey Billy, do you mind if we turn off the Homer Simpson record?"

2. We were talking about breaking up with people. You said that you hated to prolong an unpleasant relationship, you were bad at faking it. You said that you learned to be really good at just ending it. Making it hurt less by getting out, and fast. You said it was like taking off a band-aid; you had to do it quickly and get it over with.

I remember you saying this while we were sharing a dish of ice cream somewhere in the West Village or something, some weird flavor like Red Bean or Ginger Mocha Mint Coffee (I always let you choose these things). And I remember being totally baffled by this analogy. Who ever heard of ripping off a band-aid? I would never do that, because I know it'll hurt. I just leave a band-aid on the cut, with the faith that once the wound underneath heals (which it always does), then eventually the band-aid will come off, on it's own, in the shower. Painlessly, and without any knowledge on my part.

3 comments:

Alex said...

tricky is sleazy hot for sure

Chef Green said...

I love your writing when you are in this mood. We share the same vein of memory and melancholy from time to time.

lorenzo said...

the ellipsis of love is unfulfilled regret...
I like the sensitive shyness of your honest writing. A lot.