Monday, April 28, 2008

Recent Writings

(EdNote: I liked this passage so I thought I'd post it on the blog. This is a serious passage but most of the writing so far tends to be more of the funny, sarcastic, weird variety.)

I shutter with orgasm and keep it in as deep as possible until I feel every last drop come out. I lay on her, unable to move for a minute and we keep deeply kissing, our mouths almost wide open on each others even though the sex is finished. I roll off and we're both panting and looking at the ceiling. Then almost simultaneously we begin to giggle and smile for no reason except that at this moment we are free of all the stresses and money problems and one year old baby problems and life decisions and health problems. This one moment we are not of this world. We smile, wide, crows feet-making, genuine smiles. She lays across my torso and we lay in our own sweat with nothing on our minds except each other. Although brief, this moment must be near the apex of human happiness. Possibly.

We make love again that night and again in the morning. In the morning our breaths and bodies reek of cigarettes and the night before, but we still lock into each other without insecurites and without concern. It's beautiful, violent and fast. The type of sex that it takes some couples months or even years to cultivate, if ever. The type of uninhibited sex where you know that you have morning breath and you know that your body smells but you still hold nothing back. Your breath mingles and sweat mingles with theirs and no one is saying, "oh let me go brush my teeth first."

I have to work a double at Drink Bar that day so I get up to shower and start the recovery process. We're ready to leave by 9:30 and I walk with her outside and the day is miserable and wet. My head is swimming and the rain only compounds the issue. Sara and I kiss and we promise to call each other tonight and tomorrow and hang out next weekend and do this and do that... The usual spiel that two people will give each other after a night of sex. I look in her eyes and can tell that she really means these comments, she really does have feelings for me.

She drives off and I get into my car. I put my head on the wheel for a second and start to mentally prepare myself for 14 hours of work.

I feel a bit melancholy, even a bit bored. I look back on the past 24 hours and the whole scenario seems very commonplace, although to anyone else I doubt it would. Sara doesn't realize it. She's to enraptured with it all, she's content in the idea of us being together and falling in love. She's used to the emotions that ordinary people are used to.

What I know though, is that this thing that we created the night before means nothing. In a few days this thing will cease to exist within me and not even by choice. It will just dissipate like every other good thing does. I will have another passionate night with another girl within a few weeks. Sara will call and text and finally, exasperated, she'll call and say,

"What happened Jack? I thought we had something real?"

I'll be flippant and dismiss her cries and eventually I'll forget about her altogether. This isn't what normal people do, but me? I'll go on my way, confident that I can create these feelings and emotions with another girl....and the truth is... I can. Anybody can.


Anonymous said...

but why would anyone but you want to

Anonymous said...

wow harsh but true....but when do you get to the point when you don't want to be anyone else but the one you're with in that moment in time?

Anonymous said...

*with anyone else

dchero said...

Wow, well done. That struck a chord with me I've never heard described before. I'm more excited about this book process than ever.

hannahjustbreathe said...

"This one moment we are not of this world. We smile, wide, crows feet-making, genuine smiles."

Nice. I especially like the "crows feet-making" bit.

Congrats on the progress.

Benedict Smith said...

progress on a book/novel is slow and arduous, but when you sit back and realize you've got shit in it you really like, stuff you are proud of, and there's dozens of pages fairly edited and is a good day. good work.