Probably just the cheap whisky

 

Couldn’t fall asleep. There’s no one to talk to at this hour so I thought I would let my fingers and my Macbook keyboard have a go. Graphic 2 2

5:37 the radio on my bedside table reads. This is one of our earlier nights.

I sit propped up on the right side of my bed that touches the wall with the window on it. I’ll never fall asleep in the position, but I close my eyes from time to time.

Just before falling into the bed I undid the second and third on my Calvin Klein button down. Plugged in my dead phone  and dimmed the light on my bedside table low, real low. That is the extent of what I’ve been able to do since getting home. The soft click of my space bar is, somewhere else, somewhere I’m conscious of but away from, continuous and rhythmic.

Daylight broke 15 minutes ago and  I sigh.  Just a natural reaction to being seated on a bed, I’m sure, I’m not stressed or anything.

I take a gulp from yesterday’s glass of water on my bedside table. The coolness fights the burning lump. Probably just the cheap whisky from earlier in the night.

The water was the last thing I touched since heading out yesterday morning. I haven’t been to the gym in four days. Right now I feel dirty, fat and dirty. I have to get the these clothes off. Not sure why I’m having such difficulty, I didn’t even bother putting my socks back on and my belt is still loose after leaving her house.

Kiara said earlier this evening that she had a party with some papers, a zippo, and “dat purp.” She also said I should chill out some time and have a sesh with her. She’s nuts. I ended up just grabbing a Coors from her fridge. I promised myself I would stop drinking beer, again.

 

Another sigh just slipped out . Sleep must be catching up on me. I have to stop seeing her this often, at least this late. This isn’t love.

We don’t even talk anymore. I send the “Are you awake?” text, she’s always awake. I’m always three drinks in. It’s always Thursday, or Sunday night. Never the weekend. This isn’t love.

Graphic 3 (1)I end up taking the elevator to Kiara’s apartment 1409. My manhood gives its conditioned response. I adjust myself in my underwear so she won’t notice. I walk through the door, assume my usual nonchalance, and find my spot at the right corner of her bed. She puts a movie on. I couldn’t tell you one thing about any of the movies we’ve watched. She falls onto the bed near me. I move slowly and wrestle her out of her clothes. Unbuckle my belt and we steal away into the passions of pleasure. Just as I reach as high as I can, peaking behind heaven’s gates, I let go and fall back to earth hitting the ground. Crash.

I lie there. Kiara gives that blank stare that fights to betray any sentiment. She lets out a nervous chuckle that looks to find validation in my eyes, but by this point I’ve already  left, in spirit. I clean up my beer, and put my clothes on in the quickest fashion possible. We exchange pleasantries such as, “Another week of work eh?” Dammit obviously it’s another work week.

I drive home on the deserted streets and turn down the radio low, real low. During the trip I think about what I have to do the next day, and how tired I am, a different kind than the one I’m used to with lack of sleep. A deeper one. I park and get up to my apartment. I find myself here in my room as daylight rises.  Although I went up 7 floors, it starts coming down. I start coming down. I can’t fight it. And it …

It just all feels so heavy.

My eyelids are getting heavy. Kiara says text me when you get home. I promise her I will. I never do.

I always promise myself this all will stop. This yearning. The incomplete feeling. The bareness.

Then Thursday comes around and I ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc

 

by @sledain

featuring photography from @_mayfleurs !

New Posts Every Sunday.

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