Pieces of You

The day where I was forced to say goodbye to Frenchie came and went; and even though it ripped my heart in two to do it, I have to admit that enjoyed every last minute of it...


Friday morning I received one of my last text from Frenchie. He was scheduled to leave early Saturday morning. It would be our last day together.


He messaged me, "Can you meet me in downtown in 1 hour and bring your bikini?"


For you? Anything Mr Man.


"My bathing suit?" I ask, confused.


"Yes Cherie'," he says.


"Okay, I can do that," I answer. "Where am I meeting you?"


"At my friends loft. I v'will be v'waiting for you on zi roof," he text.


I head downtown an hour later, my suit and cover up stuffed securely into my hand bag.


I punch in the code for the secured building and make my way up to the roof. I had long since received the code for the door. Why wouldn't I have it? Frenchie was my boyfriend afterall...


As I climbed the familiar stairs to the roof, I allowed my mind to wander to the first night I had been up here. I open the rooftop door, half expecting to walk into starry skyed darkness. Instead I step into the bright sunlight and begin my search for Frenchie. I find him sitting at a table next to the jacuzzi, wearing a pair of swim trunks, dark sunglasses and a hipster Fedora.


"Hello baby," he says, standing to give me a kiss.


"Aren't you the lucky one," I say to him, taking a seat at the table. "Leave it to tourist luck to get such a beautiful day like today in the middle of December."



"Are you 'Ungry," he asks, gesturing towards the other half of the sandwich he was eating.



"No I'm fine, I ate a little something before I got here," I tell him.


We both pause for a moment and just smile at each other. We do that alot. Stare at each other and smile. There are no uncomfortable silences between Frenchie and I. Ever.



We laughed and shot the shit for a bit while Frenchie finished his sandwich.  It was hard to believe that in just a few short hours, he would be gone. We were both still so at ease. As if there would still be a tomorrow for us.


Frenchie finishes up and holds his hand out to me saying, "Come. I have zomething for you."


I take his hand and allow him to lead me back into the building and down to the loft. He walks over to the kitchen table and appears to be adjusting something in a box. He finally turns around holding a beautiful white Amaryllis flower, set into a small box. It has several bulbs not quite bloomed, but one of the large star like flowers was fully opened and stunning.


Frenchie is grinning sheepishly as he points to the card pushed into the dirt of the plant. I take it in my hands to read it.


"Cherie Carrie, Thank you so much for being my American Girlfriend for a week, xx Frenchie."



I laugh and give Frenchie a quick kiss and a hug. I hide my face in his shoulder for a moment, collecting my bearings. The gift was sweet. My eyes had teared a bit. I didn't want him to see. I wanted this day to stay positive. I refused to give into tears.


"Thank you so much Frenchie, really," I say to him, finally pulling a way. "It's beautiful. I love it."


"Z'he lady said that it can live a long time," he says to me. "She give me instructions for you. I thought it was the most pretty. I v'wanted something that v'would last, so that you v'would have z'omthing to look at and think of me."


I feel the familiar sting in my eyes again.


I will them away, saying, "It's perfect. I've never been the type to like flowers. I mean flowers like roses and things like that, you know? It always seemed wrong to pick the flowers off the plant like that. This is so much better. It's still alive. I can plant it and keep it going. I love it."


Frenchie smiles again, obviously pleased with himself, "I'm so happy you like it. I have never given a gift like this before. I don't give flowers before. I'm happy."


I give him another quick kiss and place the flower back down on the table.


"Would you like to go in the jacuzzi now?" he asks.


"Sure," I answer. "I just need to change."


I head into the bathroom to change into my suit. I look at myself in the mirror, making sure that no trace of my momentary choke up is noticeable. Satisfied with what I see, I take a deep breath and head back to the roof with Frenchie.


He slips into the jacuzzi first as I pull my cover up off.


"Wow," I hear Frenchie say under his breath.


I had stressed over which of my many bathing suits to wear for my first and last water adventure with Frenchie. I had finally settled on a zebra striped Monokini. The cutouts, low back, ringed bottom of the suit compliment my body perfectly. My hips, large ass and small waist all featured individually around the overpriced suit. I had apparently chosen correctly. Frenchie couldn't take his eyes off me as I entered the hot water.


He pulls me to him the moment I hit the underwater bench. We begin to kiss passionately, his hands searching under the water for me frantically.


Then he stops, turning away from me and moving to the other end of the jacuzzi.


"What's wrong," I ask concerned.


"I am getting too excited," he answers, not looking at me.


"What's wrong with that," I ask, laughing.


"I decided it v'would be best if v'we don't have sex again," he says to me. "Yes, that v'would be better."


"Why, I don't understand," I ask him confused.


"I think it v'would be too hard for us," he says seriously. "It v'would make it harder for me, and you. It iz best v'we don't."


Say's who?


"Okay," I say instead. "If that's what you want."


I was confused. I wasn't sure who he was trying to protect. Himself or me? I was fine. I had no problem making love to my week long boyfriend. I mean he was leaving, why wouldn't we be together one last time? Was he afraid I would freak out later? I mean I already knew he was leaving, it's not like I would feel used or anything. Geez, why do men always have to over complicate the uncomplicated!


Frenchie steps out of the jacuzzi and sits on the bench nearby. I swim over to my cover up and pull my cell phone out of the pocket, snapping a few pics of Frenchie lounging in the sun. Satisfied, I place my phone safely away and dip back into the water, an idea forming mischievously in my head.


I turn my back to Frenchie and lean my body against the opposite side of the pool. I use my arms to prop my body up above the water, kicking my legs back lazily. To the casual observer it would appear that I was merely leaning over to get a better view of the city. In reality, I was fully aware of the view I was giving to Frenchie. I was leaning forward just enough so that the supple part of my hips and ass were exposed just above the bubbling water. It didn't take long for my arched back trick to do it's job.


Within seconds I hear Frenchie's body splash back into the water.  His hands found my hips under the water and pulled me towards him. He pressed my back to his chest, squeezing me tight and kissing my neck. He finally turns me around and caresses my ass while kissing my lips. The steam is rising above us, at this point I can't be sure if it's the heaters or us.


No, we didn't have sex. I knew that they placed security cameras on top of buildings like these, and I was positive one of them had to be pointed directly at the jacuzzi. I wasn't looking for sex, I just wanted passion. And passion I got...


We finally dried off and left the roof for the warmth of the loft. I quickly jump into the shower, alone. I may have been able to get Frenchie to waver upstairs, but he wasn't having any of it back in the apartment. I begrudgingly entered the shower alone.


After we both redressed, Frenchie asked if I would mind shopping with him around town for a bit. He still needed to pick up gifts and souvenirs for his friends and family back home.


"If it isn't too much trouble," he says to me apologetically. "It may be very boring."


"It won't be boring for me," I tell him. "I don't care what we do, I just want to be with you."


He smiles and places his arm around me as we head back down to the street towards my car.


We spend the next few hours walking around downtown, shopping. I'm quiet most of the way, lost in thought. The week had been amazing. We had done so much together! It had been a while since I had spent that much time with a man outside of The Kid. It was strange how close I felt to him. I still marveled at my comfort with my French boo. It had only been one week! It had seemed so much longer. The experience had been unreal.


Finally satisfied with his purchases, Frenchie and I decide to find a place to eat. He had seen a lovely restaurant in the center of the city he had been wanting to try all week. We step inside of a large room drenched in white decor with white linen tables spaced through out.


We order two of the house special martini's, mine fruity, his laced in cream; along with a gourmet salad to accompany our thin crust prosciutto and goat cheese pizza. Frenchie orders a few appetizers that I can't pronounce but am more than happy to eat. We settle into our corner booth and begin to talk.


We talk about the week we've had. We talk about our day. But most of all we talk about each other. We talk about what attracted us to the other when we first met. We talk about what made us care as the week wore on. It's funny, I've always had a hard time accepting compliments from people in the past. I have an even harder time accepting love and romance. Not with Frenchie. With him it's different. I never feel the urge to roll my eyes. There was no need to hold my gag reflex in check. I think it's because he doesn't say things to flatter me. He's not trying to get on my good side. He says what he says because to him, they are simple truths.  Truths that need to be said. So he does.


"You have been v'wonderful," he is saying to me. "You are so sexy, and passionate, and honest. You laugh all the time. That's v'what I like most of all v'when v'we met. You laughed v'with me. You smiled. You thank me for the things I do. You make me feel good...about me. You are v'what a women should be. You are The Women."


Frenchie looks at his food during this whole speech lost in thought, searching for the right words. Happy with his analyses, he continues to eat.


I look away towards the wall. How does he do that? How can he just allow the sweetest things to roll off his tongue without even noticing the effects that they have on me? Could he really be that selfless?


I'm starting to loose it! I knew this was coming. I knew he would be gone. I'm not sad that he's leaving, I was prepared for that. I was, touched. Touched that he had ever came. Touched that I was able to enjoy his company, and that he had chose to enjoy mine.


Frenchie looks over, noting my silence.



He grabs my hand and says, "I know I am leaving...but I v'will still be here. I mean v'we v'will maybe send messages and z'things like that but v'we have zomething else. I am leaving a piece of me here...v'with you. And I am taking a piece of you v'with me. Here. Inside."


He takes my hand and presses it against his heart to make sure that I understand.


I shake my head in awe of his sweetness and lean in for a kiss. This guy is fucking unreal!!


We continue our dinner. We don't say much towards the end. We merely sit enjoying our delicious meal, content to merely be in the others presence.


We finally finish up and head out of the restaurant and back onto the busy city street. I look up at the tall buildings surrounding me. There's nothing I love more than standing in the middle of Downtown LA, looking up at the tall buildings, lights glowing out of the many windows, illuminating the sidewalks below.


Frenchie and I walk in silence towards my car. It was getting late. I knew our day was done. Right before we get to the garage entrance, he stops and looks at me.


"This is v'where I need to leave Cherie'," he says to me. "I v'want to v'walk the rest of the way to my friends alone. I v'want to see the city one last time."


I mouth the words, "Okay."


I can't speak. I can hardly breathe.


He pulled me to him and kissed me. He kissed my mouth and my face. He hugged me tighter and pulled my hands to his lips and kissed those as well. There was so much I wanted to say. So much that I felt.


I wanted to tell him what he had done for me. It had been more than enjoying a week with a stranger. He had got me to trust again. He had got me to feel again. He had helped me to realize that I could find love again. I could connect with someone. He had helped to heal my heart. He had healed the bruise left by The Rocker. He had helped me to feel good about...me. I loved me once again, and I was very aware that there was a part of me that also loved him. I loved Frenchie.


I loved him for being the man he was. I loved him for how he treated me. I loved him for enjoying my company and allowing me to enjoy his. My love for him was selfless. I needed nothing from him in return. No promises, no goodbyes. Just a thank you. From me to him.


I looked into his eyes, hoping that he could read all that I felt in them. He looks back at me and smiles. He presses his lips to mine for the last time.


"Goodbye," I say to him.


I squeeze his hand and walk away, without looking back.



I hold my breathe the entire walk to my car. I could see Frenchie, in my minds eye, walking down the city street. His black trench coat pulled tight around him. A grin fixed on his face.


The moment I locked myself safely into my car, I let go. I cried. Hell, I sobbed. My heart was throbbing. It wasn't broken, it was merely full to the point of bursting.


I sobbed the entire drive home. I didn't take the freeway. That would have been too quick. I instead chose the streets. Each stop light allowing me more time to cry out my feelings.


If felt good! It felt good to feel! It's true what they say. The only way to get over a lost love is to find love with someone else. I'm not sure if I'm really ready to love someone. I'm not sure if I'm ready to take the chance and commit. But one thing I did know, I finally was over The Rocker. The pain was gone. I could finally think of him with out feeling the old twitch in my heart.



I may be healed, but I don't quite feel whole. And I'm ok with that. I'm ok with crying, I'm ok with loving, and I'm ok with missing the men that once meant the world to me. I'm ok with it because for the first time in a long time, I'm ok with me.


Thank you Frenchie. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for caring. And thank you for my flower. It's bloomed beautifully since you left. I plan on keeping it alive for a long time. But don't worry, even if it does die?


I still have a piece of you with me.


WCC

Nightmares and Dreams

They say the only way to get over your fear is to face it. So that's exactly what I did...


Frenchie and I were inseparable the days after our first date. He would explore Los Angeles alone in the mornings, and I would pick him up in the late afternoon so that we could spend some time together. One evening, while enjoying tropical martini's overlooking the ocean in Downtown Long Beach, he proposed a plan to me.

Apparently Frenchie's life long dream was to visit the desert. He had actually planned to visit Joshua Tree National park during his brief visit here to the states.  Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten his drivers license and was unable to rent a car. His friends all worked during the day, so he had all but given up on his goal.

"Vould you like to come with me," he asks earnestly. "I will pay for a room. We can stay in Palm Springs. I've planned everything. Should we go?"


"Um...ok. Sure. Why not? When?" I ask him.


I had no plans for the week. He was going to pay for the trip. There really was no reason for me to say no. My only hesitation came from my...irrational fear. I hated the desert. You see, something happened to me a few years ago. Something that scared the shit out of me. Something that made me feel, for the first time in my life, my mortality.


"Let's go tonight," he answers excitedly. "V'we can look up rooms on your phone. I know the v'website."


"Tonight? Are you serious?" I ask him laughing. "I would need to go home and pack and we would need to drive dowtown to get your stuff which is..."


He places his hand over my mouth, interrupting my protest.


"Please," he says. "Come v'with me?"


He's looking into my eyes again. He isn't trying to seduce me. He is just trying to convey how much this means to him.


"Ok, " I answer. "Let's go to the desert."


After securing rooms in Palm Springs over the phone, we quickly drove back to Hollywood so that I could pack. No one was home at The Plex, so I shot Hippie Chick a text letting her know what I was doing.


"What?!," she immediately replies. "The desert? You hate the desert!"


"I know," I text back. "He wants to go. It means alot to him...so I guess to the desert I go lol..."


"Okay. Text me when you two crazy kids get there," she answers.


We drive downtown to the loft to pick up his gear. He throws a handful of clothes into a bag and straps his guitar to his back. His friends arrive home just as we are leaving.


"Where you guys headed too," his jam session partner asks.


"Frenchie is dragging me to the desert," I reply with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

They all laugh.


"Have fun," he says to me.

He grabs my arm just as we are walking out and tells me out of earshot of Frenchie, "Thank you for doing this. You are really making this guys dream come true."


I smile at him and take a deep breath as we walk out. I can hear Frenchies friends chuckle as I shut the door behind us.


The drive to the desert was very intimate.  The time flew by.  We talked the whole way...about his life in France. About our past relationships. About what we wanted to be when we grew up. Everything was so easy with him. It had been a long time since I had felt comfortable enough to share myself, my inner most thoughts with someone. Without any fear of being judged, or misunderstood.

We got to our hotel in Palm Springs, but didn't go straight to bed. Instead Frenchie pulled out his guitar and played for me. He sang for me. I sat on the small couch next to our bed and just watched him. I was mesmerized. After his third or fourth song, he finally puts down his guitar and walks over to me. He reaches down and pulls me to the bed...

...

The next day Frenchie was practically jumping out of his skin. He was so excited! He rushed me through breakfast and out of my shower. He was beyond eager to get our adventure under way.

I was less enthused.


We drove out of Palm Springs and into the Mohave desert. Frenchie had planned the entire trip long before he boarded his plane out of Paris.  The night before he had spread out his maps and notes on the bed showing me the path we would take.


As we drove deeper into the desert, my anxiety increased.


"This is the right way? For sure," I ask him. "This is the way it says to go on your maps?"


"Yes, don't V'worry," he says to me. "I know it. I studied. Thiz iz it."


He grabs my hand to comfort me. He knows why I'm filled with fear. I had shared my story of peril with him the night before...

...


The last time I had been to the desert was with my ex, Nutty as a Fruitcake. Amongst Nutty's many jobs, his one true passion was Electronic music. He wanted to be a DJ. He had seen some moderate success since coming to California, but it wasn't until he teamed up with a local producer that he really started to push his dream. Being the supportive girlfriend I am, I had decided to join him on his trip to a desert rave one day.



I know. What the hell was I thinking?


The drive to the event location was a crazy one. We lost the people we had been following so we were forced to figure out our way on our own. The rave was set to be held in the deserts between Lancaster and Palmdale. It was obviously illegal, so the roads were not the best.  What I mean by not the best,is that they were non existent. Luckily as we were driving we saw a handful of ravers shoved into a too small vehicle. I pulled up next to them and offered my vehicle as a means to lighten their load.

"Do you guys know how to get to the rave," I ask them after a few of them piled into my backseat.


"Yes, " one of them say. "See that dirt road there? Go across it. We will come to a paved road on the other side. From there we should see it."


I follow his instructions. The road was less of a road, and more like...well, empty desert. I maneuvered my car around the occasional brush and holes in the sand. I began to get nervous. Just when I was ready to turn my poor 2002 Camry around, we saw the lights of the rave.


We pulled onto a paved road and followed the lights to the concert. The scene was impressive! They had somehow managed to pull a huge stage and two large big screens onto the empty desert. The Dj booth sat on top of the stage, still attached to the huge tractor they had used to drag it in. Fire dancers were spinning near them and there were candy ravers everywhere.


We get out of the car and step into the freezing night. We tried to warm ourselves by dancing but it was difficult.


"We should do some E," Nutty tells me. "That would warm us up for sure."


"That's ok, I'm good," I respond.


"Why not," he asks me, irritated. "You told me once before that you were willing to try it."


"I know, but I don't want to. Not now," I respond. "Look, I have to work tomorrow night.  I don't want to be out of it. Plus, if or when I do decide to try it, I want it to be with people I trust. Somewhere familiar and safe. Not here, ok?"


Nutty doesn't respond. I can tell he's annoyed with me. I decide to ignore him. I was having a good time. The scene was interesting, the music was loud. It was a new experience for me and I was taking in every part of it.  I wasn't going to let his silly request bring me down.


As the night wore on, Nutty gradually became more and more withdrawn. I couldn't understand why?!



"I'm cold, lets go in the car and warm up for a second," I tell him.


I pull out my flashlight and we make our way back to my car. Outside of the strobe lights the desert was completely black. We get inside and I turn on the engine, and quickly flip on the heater. Nutty sat next to me, still sulking.


Finally unable to deal with the dingbat anymore I turn to him and ask, "What's wrong with you?"


"You fucking hate this," he answers me.


"What?" I say surprised. "What are you talking about?"


"You hate this. I know you do. You don't want to be here," he replies.


He hasn't raised his voice. He's not even looking at me. The guy was just looking out the windshield, towards the stage. The only sign of life was the pulsating light flashing in his eyes.


"That's not true," I tell him. "I'm having a good time. This is way cool man. Why are you saying that?"


That's when he finally told me the truth. Told me why he was so upset. It was because I didn't want to do drugs with him. It was because I didn't want to share in this beautiful moment with him, totally hammered off of drugs. He told me I was ruining it for him.


I couldn't believe my ears! I mean I could understand getting yelled at for doing drugs, but for someone to be pissed because I wasn't?! You got to be kidding me!?


I was aware of Nutty's past. We had talked about it before we had got together. I had made it very clear. If he wanted to be with me, then he couldn't do drugs. It was a non-negotiable for me. He had agreed. And up to this point he had stayed true to his promise. It had been 9 months without a hitch. Until this night.


"Look dude, if you want to do some Ecstasy, then go ahead," I say to him, close to tears. "I don't mind. Have your goodtime. I won't be mad. But I don't want to do any, ok?"


This is when he blows it. He yells at me. I don't remember what he said. All I knew was that the two of us were over. This was too much! This isn't what I wanted. Let him do his drugs, let him find a girl who will do them with him. I was done. With him and this fucking rave.


We decide to leave. We don't tell anybody. I put on my seatbelt and head back into the desert.  We drove down the paved road in silence. I could feel him fuming next to me. The tears are still spilling down my face.


We drove for a mile or two down the road. It was so dark! We pass a paved turn off. I not sure why, but I look up and take note of the street name. Thank God I do. It was one of the only reasons we were found later.


We see the dirt road we had crossed over on and turn onto it. The desert seemed to swallow my car up in its darkness. We drive for a bit. Nothing looks familiar.


"Is this the right way," I ask Nutty.


He doesn't respond. He's still looking moodily out the window.


"I don't think this is right," I say again. "I'm going to turn around and go back."


Seconds before I turn my wheel, it happens. The sand beneath us goes soft, and I feel the nose of my my car sink into the ground with a, "Thuck!"


"Fuck!!" Nutty yells immediately.


I jump at his voice. He hadn't said a word since our fight. I try to back out of the ditch, but my wheels just spin.


"We need to get something under the tires," I say to him. "They aren't catching on anything."


I've stopped crying. I knew we were in trouble. I immediately go into survival mode. I'm not the type of girl who waits around to get rescued. I was going to fix this.


We get out of the car. I pull out my flashlight and begin scouring the desert floor in search of anything large enough to place under my tires. I couldn't believe what I heard next. It was my car. I had shut off the engine before I had got out. Nutty had turned it back on and was trying to back my car out of the ditch.


"Nutty, no!!" I yell, running back towards him.


The idiot! What was he thinking?! Everyone knows that when your car is stuck in mud or sand that you have to place something solid under the wheels. Otherwise you will just sink further.


As I ran towards the car I could see the front end of my car dipping deeper into the sand.  I reached the open car door and yelled for him to stop.


"Why," he asks irritated.


"It will only sink further if you do that," I tell him panicked. "We have to place something under the tires. Please!"


Nutty stops the engine and gets back out. He walks away a few feet and lets out a blood curdling scream into the desert.


I shudder and take a few steps back from him. Luckily he doesn't look at me. He walks away from the car and into the desert, picking up pieces of wood along the way. I turn the opposite direction and do the same, grateful for the time to be alone.


We both head back to the car several times dumping our spoils onto the ground in front of the tires. We have an old blue suit case, a few hubcaps and some random pieces of wood. We begin to place them under the tires.


"Get back in the car and try to pull out when I tell you," he says to me.


His voice is calmer, but I can still hear the hysteria boiling just beneath the surface. I do what he says. I know I have to keep him calm.


I try to pull out after his command. Nothing happens. The wheels just turn, catching onto nothing.


"Again," Nutty yells.


I try again. Nothing. The debris either flies out from under the car, or pushes deeper into the dirt.


"We have to stop," I finally tell him. "It's not working, and we are just sinking deeper into the sand."


By this point night has turned into early dawn.  We've been stuck for atleast an hour. It was time to call for help.


"Just try it again," he yells.


"Dude, I can't," I tell him. "It's not going to work. Look how deep we are now!"


The bottom of the front end of the car is now sitting on top of the sand. The tires half buried.


Nutty grabs a long piece of wood and lies down onto the dirt. He begins to use it to shovel the sand out from under the car. I stand there in silence. I grab a scarf from my backseat and wrap it around my neck. It's still early morning, so the desert is an ice box. I can see the steam coming out of Nutty's nostrils. He is making little progress. For every bit he shovels out, another avalanche of sand falls back in.


"Babe, please," I say to him. "Let me just call a tow truck. This isn't going to work."


Nutty stands up and looks at me. I can see the sweat pouring off of him. There is blood on his forearms and his knuckles are busted and also bleeding. He had this crazy look in his eyes. I shudder again.


"Look, for once, in your fucking life...will you just listen to me?"


He doesn't yell this to me. If I hadn't been looking at him I would have been able to pretend that he was calm. But I was looking at him. I was looking at his eyes. They were red. Not blood shot. The whites were completely red. Nutty was no longer himself. Nutty had actually gone...well, nutty.


"Ok, I'll try again," I say to him.


I get back into the car shaking, and try again. The same thing happens. My car was going no where.


"Get out, let me do it," he says.


I quickly move out of his way and let him try. Nothing.


We played that game for another hour or so. I'm not sure how long exactly. By this point I had lost track of time. We had been stuck for several hours. That I knew. I felt  so helpless. All I could do was sit there and watch Nutty dig with his bloody knuckles and allow him to have his melt down on his own. As long as he was focused on the car, I knew he wouldn't have time to freak out on me.


Finally he looks at me and says, "Ok, go ahead and call who you want."


I grab my phone gratefully and call up AAA. They were of little help. We were too far off the road for them to assist us. They give me the number of a local towing company and I call them myself. Thank god I had looked at that street sign . Otherwise I would have had zero directions to give them.


"We are about a mile past that street, on the left side of the road," I tell them. "I can't see the pavement from here, but there is a abandoned house just above us. We are stuck behind there."


"Ok, " the dispatcher tells me. "We'll have a driver up there in 30 minutes."


"Thirty minutes!" I thought. "This mad men could kill me in thirty minutes."


I laugh to myself. I was trying to do everything I could to hold it together. By this time Nutty wasn't just manically digging and revving the engine. He would also stop every now and then and yell at the universe. You heard me. He was yelling at the Universe. He would scream out into the desert, spittle flying from his mouth each time, about how awful his life always was. About how fucked the universe was to him.


I said nothing. I stayed out of his way. I allowed him to do whatever he wanted. I had help on the way. That's all I cared about.


My phone finally rings. I had left it on the charger in my car. I run over and accidentally rip the cord in half in my haste to grab my phone. It doesn't matter, it's the tow truck. Help was finally here.


"I'm near where you told us," he says to me. "Where are you?"


"Just give me a second," I answer back. "There is an abandoned house right near us. I'll walk up and find you."


I hang up the phone and walk over to where Nutty is laying. He was still digging sand out from under the car.


"The tow truck is here, " I tell him. "I'm going to walk up to the road so that he can find us."


"Just stay here, let him find us himself," he answers irritably.


"He can't see us. We're in a ditch," I respond. "I'll be right back."


I turn around and walk back towards the road. I didn't need his permission. Why would I need the permission of a madman?


I climb the hill to the abandoned house and step onto the other side. What I saw made my blood run cold.


I saw nothing. No road. Just desert. Nothing but desert.


My phone rings again. It's the tow truck driver.


"I'm sorry, I'm not sure where the road is," I tell him. "I have to go back and find my boyfriend. He might know the direction. I'll call you back."


"I can't wait for long," the driver says. "I have other calls."


"Ok. Just give me five minutes, I'll call you back," I tell him. "My phone is dying so I need to hang up. I'll call right back."


I hang up the phone and quickly head back to the car.I walk down the hill and look around. I don't see anything. No car, no boyfriend. Nothing. Just desert.


I look back at the house and try to get my barrings. I could have sworn the car was in this direction! I hadn't walked far. It should be right there!


I begin to panic. I look around me. The sun has risen so I have a perfect view of the nothingness that surrounds me. I feel my own hysteria rising in me.


"Oh my god," I think. "I'm lost! I'm really lost. I don't know where the road is...I don't know where Nutty is...what am I going to do?"


I keep walking, my eyes searching the nothingness around me. Ten minutes go by. I try not to walk far. The abandoned house is my only land mark. I didn't want loose that as well.


"I'm lost," I think again. "Wow, there could be wild animals out here. Coyotes. I have no weapon. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..."


The fear begins to take hold of me. This is real! I could actually die out here. I was lost and alone. What the hell was I going to do??


"Calm down," I tell myself. "Don't freak out. Just call for Nutty. Keep it together Carrie. You can do this."


Having a game plan helps to calm me, even though I new it was a pathetic one. I begin to call out for Nutty. My voice doesn't carry. The second I scream, its as if my voice is blocked. It just drops to the ground right in front of me.


Little did I know, Nutty was still able to hear my screams. I just couldn't hear him yelling back. Luckily I turned just in time to see him heading in my direction. I run over to him and collapse into his arms. I'd rather be lost with a madman then die out here by myself.


"I told you not to leave," he says to me.


There is no tenderness in his voice. My tears dry up immediately.


We walk back to the car. It was buried deep in the ditch. No wonder I couldn't find it.


"Look, we need to find the road," I tell him. "The tow truck is here but he can't find us. I thought it was that way, but all I found was more desert."


"That's because we came from that direction," Nutty says to me, pointing the opposite direction.


"Are you sure," I ask him. "I could have sworn we came the opposite way."


Nutty only looks at me. That's all he needed to do. I shut my mouth and follow his lead. After about 20 minutes of walking, he finally gives up on his theory.


"Come on," I tell him. "I have an idea."


I walk back to the car and look down at the sand, happy with what I find. Pressed deep into the earth are my cars tire tracks. I begin to follow them up the dirt "road". We get pretty far that way. Following my tire tracks, occasionally stopping to decipher which are ours and which are old tire marks from trucks. We walk for almost a mile. Eventually we loose the tracks. We both stop and look at each other; the fear we both felt mirrored in the others eyes.


Nutty pulls me in for a hug.


"Finally!" I thought. "He is going to comfort me. He is going to try to make me feel better."


If only that would have been true. Instead of comfort Nutty begins to cry. That's right. My ex underground cage fighting, ex body builder, trans house DJ, escort body guard ex began to cry in my arms like a little baby!


I allow him his release. Better he cry than launch himself into another rage. As I held him I heard something. I pull him away from me and hold my fingers to his lips to silence him. There it was again!


We both look at each other and yell, "Cars!"


We jog towards the sound. A few minutes later, we see it. The road! I see a tow truck zoom by. I pull out my phone and the driver again. Thank god it still hadn't died!


"We're here, I just saw you drive by us," I yell into the phone.


"Sorry, I have to go to another pick up," the tow driver replies back. "You're going to have to call someone else."


Then the dirty bastard had the nerve to hang up on me!


"What did he say?" Nutty asks.


"He said he had to go," I tell him. "What a dick!. Wait, look! There's a car coming!"


We both run towards the road just in time to stop the car from flying by us. It's a couple of party goers headed home from the rave.


"You guys ok, " the driver asks.


He looks to be around 19/20 years old. His girlfriend is in the passenger seat.


"Our car got stuck in the desert," I tell them. "We need to get a tow truck."


"We just passed a tow truck hitching up another car," he tells me. "We can drive you over there if you want?"


"Oh my god yes! That would be amazing," I say to him.


I hop into the backseat, instructing Nutty to wait for me on the side of the road. I knew if we both left that spot we would never find the location of my car again.


Nutty complies, saying nothing. He had been eerily quiet for a while now. Since his crying. Whatever. Atleast he's calm.


On the drive down the road, I retell the story of what happened to us to my rescuers. They can't stop laughing. The guy almost drove off the road when I told him about how I thought Nutty was going to comfort me but had instead started to cry.


"Oh wow," he says to me. "That's the funniest story I've ever heard! I'm so glad we picked you up!"


I begin to laugh with them. It really was sort of funny wasn't it? I mean I could laugh now, couldn't I? We were going to be ok, it was time to relax.


We get to the tow driver, and my laughter quickly turned to anger. The guy won't help me!


"You have to call someone else," he says to me. He had just finished hitching up his load and was getting back into his driver seat. "I have to haul this car all the way back to town. I won't be able to come back here."


I pull out my phone and call another tow truck. I couldn't believe what was happening! I used my limited battery to call my job to inform them I wouldn't be coming in. I knew this nightmare was far from over.


The ravers drove me back to Nutty.


"Do you want us to take you guys into town," they ask, concerned.


"No, its ok," I tell them. "I called another tow truck. I don't want to leave this spot. If we do, we'll never be able to find my car. We'll be fine."


"Ok, well take this," his girlfriend says.


She hands us a half empty bottle of water. We had been lost for atleast 4 or 5 hours. We hadn't had a drop of water for even longer than that. We were exhausted and hungry. I took it gratefully.


"Take this too," she says, handing me a small bottle of 5 hour energy drink. "It'll keep you going."


She gives me a wink and they pull away.


Nutty and I take a small drink of the water. We know we need to conserve. Nutty takes the energy drink and downs it. Great. Now I'm stuck with a psycho high on caffeine.


The wait is a long one. Another hour goes by. It was a nightmare. Nutty was freezing. He had left the car without his jacket. The air was cold but the sun was still hot. Our bodies shivered as our cheeks burned.  Nutty began to cry again. He looked so pathetic. Sitting there with his arms in his t-shirt, shaking, his eyes still red. He began to rant.


"Why does this happen to me? Why does this always happen to me," he says to no one in particular. "I thought last night was going to be so amazing. I thought that you and I would take some drugs and enjoy the event together. Why couldn't you just do that. Why? Why!!"


He's standing again. He begins to yell again. He starts to work himself up so badly that he eventually makes himself sick. I'm sure it was a combination of the lack of sleep, no water, the way he had exhausted himself for hours trying to dig out the car. All he had in his stomach was that energy drink. Dehydration had set in...


He began to dry heave on the side of the road.


"Baby, baby," I said to him. "You have to calm down. It's ok. The tow truck is coming. Come here. Drink the rest of the water. I'm going to call them again."


He calms down a bit and drinks the rest of our water. I'm dying of thirst but I hardly notice. All of my senses had been heighten since this nightmare had began. I had my own adrenaline running through me. I was aware of how close I was coming to cracking. But as long as Nutty was useless, I knew I had to hold it together. I was our last hope of getting out of this mess.


We hadn't seen one car since our raver friends had left us. I pulled out my phone and called the towing company again.


"I'm sorry ma'am, " she says to me. "We have no record of your call. We never sent anyone out."


I thought would loose it right then. I somehow kept it together. I gave her our location again and hung up the phone. I take a moment before I turn around. I knew Nutty wasn't going to take this well.


"So they had a shift change and never sent anyone out to find us," I tell him. "They just resent a driver."


"This is your fault," he says to me under his breath.


"What," I reply shocked.


"All of this," he continues. He is sitting on a rock near the road, looking down at the ground. He never raises his head. "It was your fault we left. You were the one who decided to take that road. And look at the way you have been talking to the dispatchers. It's no wonder they haven't come. You've been too fucking nice!"


His voice begins to get louder. He looks up at me. I hardly recognize his face. He continues his latest and greatest rant.


"You should be telling them this is an emergency! You need to tell them how long we've been stuck! You need to tell them what you've done!!!"


I stand my ground under his assault. He's still sitting. I try to decide how to handle this. How to handle him. My body begins to shake again. I feel my own wave of nausea and dizziness overtake me. I shake my head, willing it away. Now wasn't the time for me to fall apart. I had to calm him down. I was still the only one that could get us out of this.


"Look, I'm sorry baby. I'm so sorry," I tell him gently. "You're right. I never meant to ruin your night. I'm sorry I got us lost. We're going to be ok. Help is on the way. Please believe me. I love you ok? I love you. Please don't be mad at me."


I don't believe any of this. At this point I don't even believe that I love this person anymore. I'm just doing what I knew I had to do. I needed to keep him calm. I needed to keep us safe. Most of all I needed to keep myself safe, from the desert and from him.


I walk over to where he is sitting and wrap my arms around him. I can feel the tension drain from his muscles. It's difficult for me to hold him. Not because I'm afraid...but because I'm disgusted. By him. By what I had just watched him become in a few short hours


Another hour goes by. We are nearing hour number six now. I hadn't ate since the day before. I was totally drained. I was afraid. My phone was on its last bar. I was so afraid of it dying before the tow truck was able to call me back.


My phone finally rings.


"Hi, I believe I'm near you," the man says to me. "I don't see you anywhere."


"We are right on the left side of the road," I say to him. "You can't miss us. We are the only things out here."


After a few moments of instructions the tow truck driver delivers what is still to this day the most awful thing I have ever heard.


"Oh my god," he says, sounding distressed. "They sent me to the East side...you are on the West. I'm about 45 minutes away from you. I'm all the way on the other side of town!"


That was it. That was the moment. The moment I finally snapped.


"Listen, my boyfriend and I have been stuck our here for over 6 hours," I begin. My voice begins to shake, "We have no food, no water, and we are freezing. My phone is about to die and you are the only person who knows that we are stuck out here..."


The tears begin to flow from my eyes. My last words pour out of me in a high pitched hysterical scream, "Do you hear what I'm telling you?!! No one knows we are here! I don't want to die in the desert!!"


I hear silence on the other side of the phone. I wait patiently. I've had my freak out. I feel calmer.


"Ok, don't worry miss," he responds kindly. "I know where you are. Do you hear me? I know where you are, and I'm coming! I'll be there in under an hour. Don't worry if your phone dies. I'll find you."


"Alright, thank you," I reply softly.


I hang up and face Nutty. I tell him the bad news. He doesn't take it well.


"I'm going back to the car," he says to me. "I can get it out. I just didn't have enough time to dig."


"Dude, you can't get it out," I say. "We already tried that. For hours remember? There's no way."


"I can do it. Just give me the keys," he says, holding out his hand.


"Babe, I doubt if you could even find the car, let alone get it out," I say. "We barely found the road. There's no way you are going to be able to find it."


I had this vision of the news later that evening. There would be a shot of my wrecked car and then a picture of Nutty with a, "Missing" logo flashing beneath his face. There was no way in hell I was going to let him get himself lost out in the middle of nowhere.


"Give me the fucking keys," he says to me between gritted teeth.


I knew arguing wouldn't work with him. That's what he wanted. He wanted to fight. I had always felt secure in the fact that Nutty would never try to physically hurt me, but at this point I wouldn't put anything past him. His mind had snapped hours ago. So I tried the only thing I could. A line from one of my favorite books pops into my head,



"I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool..."
The Great Gatsby.



So that's what I did. I played a fool. I played a pathetic women. I used my beauty and charm to fool him into staying.


"You can't leave me," I began. I used my most terrified looking face. I bulged my eyes and grabbed his arm. "Please baby! You can't leave me on the side of the road by myself! I'm afraid! Please please don't leave me alone."


I try to will tears to my eyes. I can't do it. I wasn't sad, I was actually afraid. I wasn't afraid of being left alone. I was afraid that he would leave and get lost. I was afraid that he would see that I was lying. Most of all I was afraid that he would try to wrestle the keys from my pocket. That was one struggle I knew I couldn't win. One of Nutty's favorite games was to lift me up and toss me up and down into the air like a ball. He could crush me.


I continue looking at him, pleading with my eyes. I see his face soften. He believes me! At the end of the day, through all of his craziness, the boy actually does love me. It works. He sits back down on the road and waits.


Forty five minutes later our salvation finally arrives.


The tow truck pulls up next to us. The tall burly man behind the wheel jumps out holding a plastic bag in his hands.


"You two ok," he asks, his eyes soft with concern.


"Yes, I'm so happy you're here," I say to him. I actually gave the guy a hug.


He opens up his truck and lets us in.


"Here, this is for you two," he says, placing the bag on my lap.


I open it up. It looked as if the guy had raided the entire contents of a gas station vending machine. There were several bottles of water and a load of candy bars. I look at him and smile.


"Thank you so much," I say to him.


It took us almost twenty minutes to find my car. The tow truck driver actually spotted it first. The car was deep in the ditch. If it hadn't been for a glint of sunlight reflecting off its roof, we never would have seen it.


"Hold on," he says to us. "That's quick sand you guys are stuck in. I need get across it to the other side. This may get a little rough."


Nutty and I grab onto the cars interior railings and brace ourselves. He kicks in the trucks 4 wheel drive and slams on his gas. The truck shoots forward with a roar. We bounce and fly our way across the ditch safely to the other side.


We get out and take a look at my car. It's a pathetic scene. I wish I would have taken a photo.  The nose of my car was completely buried. There were pieces of wood and trash everywhere. I felt myself start to choke up. I push it back down. There would be plenty of time for that later.


"Wow, you guys never would have gotten out of this alone. Crazy," he says, shaking his head. "Ok, who can drive better in reverse?"


"That would be me, " I answer.


Nutty nods his head in agreement. It may have took seven hours but he finally knew who was in charge of this rescue mission.


"Ok, I'm going to hook up the car and pull you out," the tow driver instructs me. "I need you to turn on your engine the second you hit the hard sand. I'll pull you a few feet and then unlatch you. Once I do, safely turn around and follow me out of the sand. Don't stop. Don't slow down. Just drive exactly where I do, understand?"


I shake my head and walk to my car. Nutty gets in the passenger seat next to me. I ignore him. Everything was going to be ok. He wasn't my problem anymore.


Everything goes according to plan. It takes several minutes for his chain to pull my deeply buried car out of the sand. Once he does I turn my car around and began to follow him out. I ignore the brush I hit, I ignore the pot holes. I plowed through them all, making sure to keep up with my rescuer.


Once we get back onto the road and after we took care of the drivers fee, I fell back into our rescuers arms once again.


"Thank you so much," I told him. "If you ever need anything, you call us. He's a DJ and I'm a dancer. Any parties you have, we'll be happy to entertain.  No charge."


Nutty pulls out our individual business cards and hands them to him.


Before he jumps back into his truck I yell out to him, "By the way! I am totally going to name my first born child after you!"


He laughs and gets behind the wheel.  We follow him down a different road to the freeway.  Nutty and I drive home in silence. Once we get there we both jump into the shower together.


"I'm so sorry, " he says to me under the running water.


Finally. Finally he was going to apologize for his freak out.


"I'm so sorry I tried to make you do drugs," he says instead.


"What," I reply shocked.


"I never wanted to be the type of person to push anything like that on you. I'm so sorry," he finishes.


He pulls me into a hug. I'm speechless. He was sorry for trying to make me do drugs? That's what he was sorry for? Did he forget about the rest? Did he forget about us almost dying? Did he forget about his rage filled outbursts? Did he forget that if it hadn't been for me, we would still be stuck in that god awful desert?


He releases me from his hug and kisses my face before stepping out of the shower. I linger just long enough for him to dry off and leave the bathroom. I get out and begin to dry off. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.


My cheeks and nose are burnt from the relentless sun and cold.  My eyes are glossy from exhaustion and my lip is cut from the dehydration. That did it. I was done. It was finally my turn. My turn to freak out.


I fell to the floor and began to sob. My body shook from the effort. All the fear, all the anger, all the pain and exhaustion I felt over the last 24 hours poured out of me. I sat there on the floor until I was spent before I finally pulled myself off up and put myself to bed. I broke up with Nutty 3 weeks later...


The memory of what had happened flooded my brain as I drove into the desert with Frenchie.  My anxiety level was off the charts. That is until we hit the first destination on his map. It was some sort of boulder cove. It was beautiful.


He grabbed his guitar and lead me to a cluster of huge boulders. With the others help we made our way to the top of the largest one we could find. Once on top we both gazed out into the nothingness.

"I love this," he says, his face beaming. "It's so empty. I'z like the end of the v'world. It's sort of like walking on the moon."


I laugh and looked out into the empty desert. I saw it all with new eyes. Through Frenchie's eyes. My anxiety disappeared. He pulled out his guitar and began to play. His voice echoes off the rocks and into the nothingness. I loved it. I loved it because Frenchie loved it. I loved it, because with him, I felt safe.


We had an amazing day. We stopped at cactus gardens and rock caves. We took a two hour hike through the desert mountains to a lush tree filled Oasis. At the end we drove our way to the tallest of the mountains, past patches of snow, to a beautiful lookout so that we could watch the sun set. We held eachother and marveled at the beauty of the desert and at the comfort we felt around eachother.


I couldn't stop smiling all the way home. I drove the familiar roads back to LA, rubbing Frenchie's hair, willing him to sleep. My chest filled with happiness and affection for him. Once back downtown, I got out of the car only for a moment so that I could hug him goodnight before I headed back home.


"Thank you so much," he whispers into my ear. "That meant a lot to me. That v'was very special."


I squeeze him tighter. I didn't need a thank you. I may have helped to full fill his dream, but he had given me so much more. He had helped me to move past a horrible memory. He had helped me move on. No, wait, there was more to it than that. I was filled with more than gratitude. I was also filled with something that felt very similar to love. Love for him.


I try not to dwell on it. I kiss him goodnight and head home, painfully aware that I only had 2 days left with my out of country boo. Two days left to enjoy the first boyfriend I've had since my painful breakup with The Rocker.


Two days left until I would have to say goodbye.
I hope I can handle it.


WCC

Frenchie

The impossible has happened. I found a man, one I plan on loving, for one whole week...

Since I returned, Kid-less, from visiting my family out of state, I've been in sort of in a funk. Dating, but not excited about any of the men breezing in and out of my life. That is until the other night.

A few of the Tribeswomen decided to have a Girls Holiday party at their house. Hippie Chick and I arrived decked in sequence and fur as usual. It was a fun mellow time. We had planned on picking up the boys afterwards down in Hollywood and calling it an early night. That is until one of the Tribeswomen decided to ruffie Hippie chicks drink with some Powdered Courage. From that point on, a mellow night we would have no more!

We left the party and grabbed Mr. Boston and Homeless Boyfriend off the street. HC informed them that we wouldn't be heading home. It was almost 3am, so she sent out the Bat Call to our Hipster crew via Group Me text. Snapshot came to our rescue with an address and promise of a good time.

We arrived out front of a non-discript building located on the outskirts of DTLA. The only sign of life was a tall burly bouncer standing outside a graffiti splattered door. We walked up to the man, and as the boys began to negotiate our entry fee, Hippie Chick and I slipped into the party.

It was a wild scene. We walked into what appeared to be an abandoned city loft. It had two large rooms separated by a small stairway. They had a Dj spinning the most amazing 80's music ever. We immediately headed towards the dance area and began to shake what our mommas gave us to Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam, followed by a little Pat Benetar.

I quickly scanned the room in search of any potentials. I spotted one getting his jiggy on on top of the couch. The guy was standing on the seat cushions, hopping to the music. Definitely a foreigner. And a good looking one at that. Towards the end of the party, I was finally able to lock him down and pass him my number.

Turns out he was French, just in town for a few weeks. I had caught him at the beginning of week number 2.

Hot, French, and temporary? Sounds like my kind of guy.

I met him downtown two days later. He was staying with friends somewhere in the middle of the city so I was gracious enough to meet him at a local bar of his choice. I have to say, it was definitely not my favorite of places. The bar was large and had a Mexican band playing on the stage. Strange place to meet a frenchie, but ok.

I was nervous! I had barely seen the guy the other night. It was like 5am when we spoke and we were all a little worse for wear. I walked through the bar looking for my semi blind date when I felt a hand wrap around my forearm. I looked up into a pair of soft blue eyes and a smiling full lipped mouth.

He was taller than I had remembered. And hotter. This was going to be fun.

He bought me a drink and we sat down to get to know eachother. The bar was empty and the band was...well more authentic than I was in the mood for. After a few moments of chit chat I informed him I would be taking his French ass to Hollywood.

I took him to my favorite bar. You guessed it. Loaded. I gave the ever so famous bouncer a hug. The man's been working there since the place was called Tiny's. After a squeeze my Bouncer man gave my date a once over. Frenchie begins to pull out his ID, until Bouncer man waves it away.

"If you're with her, you're okay," he's says giving me a wink.

The evening was not what I had expected it to be. Now a days I don't expect much from any of my dates. I've just been going through the motions, trying my best to keep boredom at bay. But this night was different. It was...dare I say it...romantic.

We sat in the corner, backs against the black leather seats, just talking. Both of us were oblivious to the chaos around us. All we could see were the others eyes. I think I actually blushed!

He was sweet, and totally into  me. But what made me stop and take notice, more than who he was, it was the way he was looking at me. He saw me. All of me. More importantly, I saw him as well. It's hard to explain, but bottom line was...I liked him. Alot.

"So you're here for just one more week huh?" I say to him.

"Yes, v'one week," he replies with a wink.

God I loved his french accent...

"So how would you feel about having a week long romance?" I ask him. "Would you like to be my boyfriend for a week?"

By this point I was two drinks in. Considering I'm still the largest of light weights, I was definitely buzzed and feeling particular bold. There was just something about him...something that made me comfortable. It was as if we were already in a relationship. I can't remember the last time I felt this type of instant intimacy with someone. No. That's not true. I remember when. I felt this way with The Rocker. I had felt this way when I had first met him.

"How can I say you are my girlfriend if I've never kissed you before?" He responded. "You should kiss me first, that way we both know that we belong to the other."

"You want me to kiss you," I ask him, blushing. "Oh wow, okay..."

I turn away laughing. I don't know whats wrong with me! I'm not the type of girl who gets embarrassed. Ever. But this boy was making me giddy...and shy.

"Don't be embarrassed," he says, his eyes gleaming. "Just kiss me."

I look back at him, and hesitate only for a moment, before I move in for a kiss.

That did it. I was smitten.

"So now we are boyfriend girlfriend yes?" he asks me when we pull away.

"I guess that's that," I reply smiling back at him.

We stayed at the bar for another hour, kissing and getting to know each other. Finally he suggests that we go back to my place and listen to some music. Sounds like a plan to me...

Don't get excited, my pervy readers you. I didn't sleep with him. Well, what I mean by that is that we didn't have sex. We just sat on my carpet listening to music and talking. It's funny, its different speaking with someone who barely knows your language. Its better. That way, no one is able to bullshit. No games can be played. You have to say what you mean, in the simplest of terms, so that the other can understand you. Our conversations were so...genuine. I wasn't afraid to be me.

He finally pulled me in for a kiss. We had been sitting on my carpet, drinking glasses of wine and enjoying the music I was playing for him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me onto my bed and under the covers. His kisses and advances were gentle at first but he eventually got more aggressive. He felt me resist.

"No no, don't worry," he says to me. "I won't try anything. Iz it ok if I just hold you? Only hold you, that's all I vant."

And hold me he did. Until the sun rose.

We left The Plex in the morning, after my shower and change and headed downtown for lunch. We spent the entire day together. It was amazing. Later that night we returned to his friends loft.

The building was lovely. Old and ornate. His friends lived on the top floor with a gorgeous view of the city. We walked in and Frenchie gave me a quick tour of the place. We walked up the stairs to the second floor so that I could get a better view of the city.

Frenchie turns me around and pushes me against the metal railing. He pulls me into a kiss. His hands are all over me. I feel my resolve...dissolve...

"Aren't your friends coming home soon," I ask him, pulling his hands out of my blouse.

"Yes, in about fifteen minutes," he replies breathlessly.

"Then we should probably pull ourselves together before they get  here," I tell him, pushing his face out from my neck. God this boy is sexy...

Frenchie responds by grabbing my face and kissing me once again. His hands reach down and grab my ass forcefully. He pulls me against him. I can feel his excitement pressed against my crotch.

"Ok, ok, that's enough," I tell him pulling away, laughing. "Come on. Come downstairs. Play me a song."

I grab his hand and drag him down the stairs. I knew if I stayed locked in his embrace for one more moment, I would be greeting his friends naked and defiled.

I had spotted Frenchies guitar when we had first walked in. He was a musician, amongst other things and I was dying to hear him play. We all know that I'm a sucker for a singer. I lifted his guitar off the stand and handed it to him.

He sat down and began to play a french song I had never heard of. He was amazing! Quick fingers and an emo voice. I felt like a cartoon character. My face was great. You could literally see the hearts bulging from my eyes. That was it. This boy was so going to be mine.

A few minutes later one of his friends showed up. After introductions we opened up  a bottle of wine and sat down to get to know eachother. I quickly learned that the entire occupants of the loft were musicians. His friend pulled out his own guitar to prove it. There I was, sitting in a huge downtown loft, being serenaded by two hotties. I felt like I had died and finally found my way out of boring guy purgatory. I was in hot boy heaven!

"Would you like to see the view from the roof?" Frenchie asks me after their jam session.

"Sure, lets go," I tell him, slipping on my jacket.

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to get started on dinner," his roommate tells us.

Frenchie and I grab our glasses and head up the private stairs to the roof. He takes me through the small door onto the rooftop. We are about 12 stories high so we are surrounded by the taller buildings of the city. Its gorgeous! The sun had long since set, so our only light came from the building surrounding us. I walked past the jacuzzi and leaned up against the railing to take in my city.

"Come over here," Frenchie tells me, pulling me by the hand.

He takes me over to a hidden section of the roof. The fire escape is in front of us. There are a few buildings next to us, but the lights of the top floors are dark. Somewhere down below we hear a lone guitar wailing out a heart melting tune. The scene is a dream.

Frenchie pushes me up against the wall of what I believe is the buildings heating system. He's kissing me again, hands on my body, face back at my neck, nibbling, begging my body to respond. The guitar is loud in my ears, echoing off the building walls.

"I vant you," Frenchie whispers to me.

God, I want you too.

I don't respond, I don't want to. Not yet. I'm having to much fun allowing him to convince me. It doesn't take much. The entire scene is way too much for me to pass on.

So I did something I've never done before. I made love, to a Frenchman, on the roof of a old DTLA building, surrounded by the city I love, with the sounds of my favorite instrument ringing in my ears.

The moment was...priceless. Forever locked in my mind. Romance, seduction, intimacy. I loved it.

Afterwards, Frenchie pulls my jacket tighter around me and smothers me with his arms. He wouldn't stop kissing my face, my mouth or top of my head. I buried my face into his chest, pulling my arms into my own, allowing him to hold me protectively.

I opened my eyes and looked at LA. My home. I saw it all with new eyes. It was magical. I felt vulnerable, sexy and adored. The guitar was still playing. I closed my eyes again I smiled at my good fortune. Unbelievably, I had found a boyfriend. However brief it was going to be, I knew it would be great. I knew it would be special.

I was ready to allow myself to love...and be loved. For one whole week.
And I do. Can't wait to tell you about it.

xx,
WCC

Pointless

Me, "My birthdays coming yay!!!!!"


Random British Guy: "I'm sure it'll be one hell of a party."


Me: "Now I'm waaaaaaaaaayyy older than you."


Random British Guy: "Dare I ask how old?"


Me: "Sure. Doesn't bother me...34."


Random British Guy: "You'll be drawing a pension soon lol..."


Me: "Ha...well, I'd rather be old than look old... Tell me I don't look old RBG!"


Random British Guy: "You don't all Hun. You have aged well with a twinkle in you're eye that dissuades the touch of times dusty fingers..."


Me: "I think I just found my new Facebook status..."


Random British Guy: "Lol."


Me: "Well, come January 20th, I'll officially have to up my age cut off for dating."


Random British Guy: "For men it's half your age +7 isn't it?"


Me: " So that would mean I could date a 24 year old?"


 Random British Guy:  "I think it's different for women lol..."


Me: "Nope...I'm going with that. I'm dating me some 24 year olds...RBG said its ok for me to be a pedophile."


Random British Guy: "Lol I wouldn't call it pedo action but nevermind."


Me:  "Well, I used to use 27 as my cut off but as this year has gone on, I've switched it to 28...but its going to be a new year. I really think I should change it to 31 or older...with a Random British Guy exception ofcourse..."


Random British Guy: "Good, being 27 myself, you had me worried for a moment. How's the dating going?"


Me: "Um, dating...well its been difficult sticking to the 3 dates before I dump rule, but I'm trying lol...I have 2 first dates lined up this week, and a second date on the weekend. I decided to give the New Brit another chance. Gonna meet with him tonight. Its funny, I'm dating but I don't even know why anymore. Just to occupy my time I suppose?"


Random British Guy: "What do you mean?"


Me: "I think in the current state I'm in, even if I did find someone great, I wouldn't realize it and would probably just move on without taking a second look lol...ugh..."


Random British Guy: "I know the feeling. Don't worry, I'm bored of everyone as well. I just don't have the motivation to find someone else."


Me: "I'm afraid of hurting anyone. I don't want to do that. I think that's why I've had such a hard time getting past a couple of dates with someone. If I know they're not the one, I don't want to lead them on."


Random British Guy: "That's fair enough. But you have to be prepared to break your own mold too. That's a question for you."


Me: "What do you mean?"


Random British Guy: "You need to decide if you're prepared to break the mold of pushing people away."


Me: "True. I don't know if I can..."


Random British Guy: "It's ok. It's the broken teapot telling the aging chinaware lol..."


Me: "lol...you know whats funny? I think the reason I feel so comfortable talking with you is because you are unattainable. You're safe. You're far away, there is no fear of commitment, or chance of getting hurt. You're my perfect pervy out of country bestie."


Random British Guy: "And proud of it!"


Me: "That's probably part of my problem. I have a habit of purposely choosing guys I know I would never date seriously due to one tragic flaw or the other. Or I choose guys that are painfully busy...or far away...or leaving the country lol... All in an attempt to look proactive about my dating life without actually having to take any of it seriously."


Random British Guy: "If it helps, I feel just as broken."


Me: "I prefer the word damaged myself."


Random British Guy: "Stunted."


Me: "Retarded."


Random British Guy: "Lol.  Well, don't think too highly of me. I'm just as flawed as the rest. It's easier to think like that when you didn't have the chance to see it yet. Don't worry, you'll find someone you can live with despite their flaws."


Me: "I didn't say you were perfect...I said you were safe. I'm aware. I just meant that I was ok with you because you are far away so I'll probably never see you again. I like the out of country RBG much more than the in country one...that guy slept with me then fled the country with hardly a goodbye remember? I mean, what a dick!"


Random British Guy:  "Not specifically but nice to be remembered."


Me: "It's fine. I like what we have now. No one can get hurt this way. Maybe I should just not see live people for a while and just stick to my out of the country penpals."



Random British Guy: "Stop playing it safe! Part of the fragility and wonderment of love is having to put yourself out there and eventually being rewarded...eventually..."



Me: "I understand. I guess I'm not ready yet. Just thinking about love brings tears to my  eyes. That can't be healthy, right?"



Random British Guy: "That's ok, it's meant to hurt. That shows it still means something to you. I'd rather hurt but care, than be numb and pointless."



Me: "I was just thinking about that the other day. When I started writing my blog last year that's who I was. That's how I felt. I was numb. Everything had seemed pointless. I was dating just to try to feel something. Anything. Now, everything is different. I feel everything! I care. I guess you're right. I'd rather care. Caring means I'm still me. Not WCC."



Random British Guy: "I was in my last real relationship almost 2 yrs ago. It hurts every day, but I know it'll fade and until then I use it as a reminder of just how good love felt."


Me: "Which only makes me miss it more. Sigh. I should get going. I have another pointless date I need to get ready for..."




Random British Guy: "I'd settle for snuggles right now."



Me: "Tease!"



Random British Guy:  "Seriously. I'm making my bed and snuggles would be ace..or a back rub."



Me: "I give amazing back rubs."



Random British Guy: "Shhh!"



Me: "I do the whole body and like to give kisses...everywhere...Make your eyes roll back..."



Random British Guy: "I know something that does that to you too."



Me: "Touche!  Wow, right on cue...this french guy I'm talking to just text and wants me to call him. Gotta run boo. Go to sleep and dream of ripped panties and a warm tongue on your...well, use your imagination."



Random British Guy: "So unfair!"



Me:  "lol...well if it makes you feel any better, I won't be giving Mr Frenchman any backrubs. I reserve those for Brits only..."



Random British Guy: "Good, bloody cheese eating surrender monkeys."



Me: "Lmao!"



Random British Guy: "Wait, you're going on a date with a Brit... I'm supposed to feel happy?"



Me: "lol...I'm not going to give a back rub to that guy, this is a first date. I'm not even sure if I'm interested...and as we both know I probably won't be. I'm thinking I can wait until I can get out to see my favorite Brit and let him enjoy my healing fingers and tongue..."



Random British Guy: "Tongue? I thought that was VIP only?"



Me: "They're plenty of other places I can lick that feel almost as amazing...trust me."



Random British Guy: "Shhh! I need to go to bed and this isn't helping lol."



Me: "Mens backs...inner thighs...balls...bites behind the neck...sucking on fingers...combine all that with a back, scalp and body rub...I'll take you to new places...I have long cool fingers...they were made for this...you'd have a raging hard on by the end...I do it for 20-30 minutes minimum...If the eyes don't roll back, I won't stop."



Random British Guy: "Lol omg. How does it finish? Do you get satisfied?"



Me: "I always get mine...men tend to be overly appreciative by the end...I've never had to ask...plus I usually give the massage mostly naked. I like to use my bare thighs and breast to help the massage along..."



Random British Guy: "Hahaha, Jesus! I need to go to bed but now I have to take care of this first."



Me: "Take care of what?"



Random British Guy: "Figure it out lol. Night night hun x."



Me:  "Think of me baby."



Random British Guy: "A photo would help things along..."



Me: "Anything for my International boo. Sending..."



Random British Guy:  "Waiting."



Me: "Did you get it? You've been quiet awhile. Let me know when you have it, and flattering words if you like it would be appreciated....Anything yet?"



Random British Guy: "Shhh, I'm peeving on it. Trying to figure out what to lick, bite and then tease first....Delicious..."



Me: "I did eventually take the panties off during this impromptu shoot. I'll send you that one during our next Skype sesh...if you're good..."


Random British Guy: "Oooooo, sounds good to me!"



Me: "Night Love."



Random British Guy: "Night gorgeous. Xoxo."



WCC

RIP Kid

I never thought I would be saying this...but I think I'm done. I'm done with The Kid...

...

After picking me up from my mom's house, The Kid took me to an artsy part of town where we did a little shopping and strolled the streets together. We went to an underground wine lounge for appetizers and drinks. It was fun and romantic. Afterwards we headed to the bar where Goodtimes bartends. It was the perfect opportunity for us to spend some time with our mutual bestie while enjoying free drinks.

I stayed at his house yet again that night. We didn't have sex...yet again that night.

 

I think part of the problem is that the guy gets much too stoned! I may not get high often, but when I do I can still function. And by function, I mean get my freak on. Not The Kid. All he wants to do after a hit from the ganja is pork out and pass out. The same thing happens once he's been drinking. If he does attempt the bump and grind in a drunken state, he more often than not can’t finish the job. It's so frustrating! I mean can you even call it sex if the guy doesn't orgasm?

I should stop. I'm making The Kid sound like some drugged out deadbeat. He's not. Overall he's a great guy. For one he owns his own house. He purchased it in his mid-twenties. Pretty impressive for a small town boy. Plus whenever we go out, he always takes care of me. Every family event I've ever taken him to he has made sure to pitch in with money for food or booze. More often than not he brings a bottle or two with him. He can be sort of a snob when it comes to vacations and food outings. He ski's and plays volleyball on a league. He always looks pulled together and never leaves the house without splashing on a healthy dose of cologne.

His main downfall? He lacks passion. I'm a very affectionate person. I love to hug and kiss the one I'm with...often.  Most of all I love to have sex. I so rarely get the opportunity so when a pre-approved sexual partner is around I like to take full advantage. But love making with him leaves me cold. It leaves me wanting. I always say I'd rather have no sex than bad sex, so why is it that I'm willing to I settle for the soft calm, oh so annoyingly gentle, love making of The Kid?

I guess because overall, I just plain like the guy. We're friends. We've always been friends. I've enjoyed the fact that the two of us never treated each other like boyfriend/girlfriend. We've gone months in the past without speaking. When he did text it was always casual and easy as pie. Just a quick hi/bye with a side of, “What’s new?” This last year has been the most I've seen him since the first time we met. Mainly because this is the first time in a long while that the two of us have both been mutually single.

I think I've stared at him for too long this time. I can now see what I chose to ignore before. The Kid is not the one for me. Not because he lives far away. Not because he isn't good in bed. He's not the one because bottom line is; the guy is kind of dull.

When he's not drinking, The Kid is quiet and calm. When he is drinking he's obnoxious and impotent. What kind of personality choices are those?

It felt different in the beginning. He was the first person that I had been attracted to after my divorce. I liked him because he was good looking and well...calm. The complete opposite of my ex. He was calm and fun. He never tried to control me, or ever raised his voice. We enjoyed watching movies together and getting stoned while listening to music. I loved hanging in his space, partying with his friends and making out with him all night.

Wait, that's it! That's what this trip has been missing. That was the one thing The Kid always had going for him. He was an amazing kisser. The best I’ve had actually. I could care less about the sex, but the lack of kissing is a crime!

He has only leaned in for a kiss on his own accord once since I got here. We were at a gay nightclub downtown and he had grabbed me and pulled me in for a wet one. I had to be the one to break us apart. He was drunk as a skunk and obviously feeling confident and sexy. Since then I’ve been the one to pull him in for an occasional smooch. Of which there have not been many… 

I slept over The Kids house on Friday night. Well not so much as slept over as passed out on his couch. His cousin was in town so we all stayed up late watching movies and getting stoned. We made our way to the bedroom in the early morning. Don’t get excited. Nothing happened. Something would have if I had made the effort, but I didn’t want to.  I wanted The Kid to make the first move. There have been too many times in the past where I was the one to pull him in for a naked embrace. I'm over it! If he wants me, he knows where to find me.

Needless to say, he never started the search.

The next morning we hung around the house eating Thanksgiving leftovers and watching movies. The two of us really do seem more like friends than lovers most of the time. The Kid and his cousin decided to go hat shopping in the artsy part of town he had taken me to a few days before. I was feeling crusty and tired so I had him drop me off at my mom’s house so that I could re-beautify myself. I told him I would catch up with them later.

I went back to my aunts later that night. My cousin had driven into town from LA as well for the Holiday so I spent the evening drinking and eating with them. The kid shot me a text telling me he had decided to get some early Christmas shopping done with his cousin.

"No worries," I text back. "I'm partying it up at my aunts so I'm good. Just let me know when you’re done."

"Ok," he replies. "I still have to drive out to my uncles and drop off my cousin so I'll be a while."

The Kid sent me a few more text asking my opinion about various gift ideas for his mom. It was cute. It made me feel like the two of us were in a relationship. Maybe that's what it is? We have seen each other so much lately we had become like an old married couple. We loved spending time together and sharing what was happening in our lives. We enjoyed the comfort and the familiarity of the situation. Maybe the passion was gone because we were too familiar with each other?

No. That's Bullshit. The guy is dull.

The party began to die down and everyone finally decided to head out. My sister and I dropped my mom at home and decided to hit the town for the last hour of drinking time. I hadn't heard from The Kid since much earlier that evening. I figured he was partying it up with his family the same way I had.

I received a text from Goodtimes just as we were getting back into my sister’s car.

"Where are you? We want to hang," I respond.

"Downtown," he immediately replies. "Come!'

I swear sometimes I wish Goodtimes was the one I was dating. Damn that boy is attentive...and fun. I had spent an entire day with him a few days before. The Kid had been sleeping off his latest hang over as usual. So Goodtimes took my cousin, Double D, and I to the movies followed by a little bar hopping.  He paid for everything. I was calling him Daddy Goodbucks all night. It’s funny; when I’m back at home I speak to him more often than I speak with The Kid. He’s my out of state version of Glasses.

My sister and I finally hit the downtown strip. We stopped into one of my favorite nightclubs first.  They have great music and a variety of rooms to wander around in. Goodtimes had text me that he was a block away at another night club but we figured we would catch up with him later.

As the two of us were walking through the bar we saw a familiar face. It took a few minutes for us to realize it was The Kids cousin. The one he had been hanging out with all day. Which meant that somewhere in this joint, was The Kid.

My first instinct was to call out his cousin’s name. I stopped myself just in time. Alerting him of our presence would have been a bad call.

For one, this was a girl’s night out. The two of us planned on whoring it up sister style. My sister truly is an amazing wing woman. It had been ages since I had met anyone new in her city.  It was time for me to mingle and enjoy myself, boy free.

Second, his presence meant another thing. It meant The Kid had ditched me.

What a dick! I was only in town for one week! I had just spent the night and most of the day with the guy, but that asshole still had the nerve to go night clubbing without me?

When he had visited me in California with Goodtimes, I had spent all my time and energy on his ass.  I had taken 4 days off of work in order to lavish my attention and knowledge of the city on them. Since my arrival Goodtimes has called me on the daily to hang. But here was this asshole, ditching out on me so that he could booze it up behind my back? Dick. Dick. DICK!

A split second before my sister reached out to touch The Kids cousin shoulder, she hesitated. Well not so much hesitated as pulled a Matrix. The girl literally bent backwards and pulled her body away from him in a way that reminded me of the bullet dodging Matrix scene that has burned its way into pop culture memory today. She just missed grabbing his attention and blowing our cover. Thank god her mind works almost the same as mine.

 

I turned around just in time to see The Kids back disappearing around the corner towards the dance floor.

My sister and I looked at each other and said in unison, "We gotta go!"

We hurried our way out of the club and onto the street.

"That was The Kids cousin right?" She asked me.

"Yeah," I told her. "The Kid was there too. I saw him walking ahead of him."

"What an asshole," she says. "Why wouldn't he tell you he was coming down here? He knows you like to party here. Even Goodtimes called you to tell you what he was doing. What’s his deal?"

"Hell if I know," I say. "Let's just head somewhere else."

Downtown is a long strip of unlimited bars and restaurants. We head into a sports bar across the street (they have a DJ spinning at night. Fun.). We met some interesting characters and scored a few free drinks from the beefy but attractive bartender. Even so, I was barely having a good time. I couldn't believe The Kid! I was so disappointed.

Right on schedule, Goodtimes gives me a call at closing.

"What happened to you," he yells at me over the phone.

"We decided to bar hop," I say back laughing. "We’re in front of the Sportsbar, head over here!"

"Be there in a sec," he tells me.

Meanwhile I spot a group of out of state hipsters standing off to the side. Fascinated, I walk over and engage them in conversation. Might as well keep busy while I wait right?

I glance over to my left to see if I could spot Goodtimes and his crew. Instead, I see The Kid.

He’s walking in the middle of the street with his cousin…and two girls in tow. The girls don’t look particularly attractive. Short and slightly overweight. I grab a few of the hipsters and use their bodies to block The Kids view of my sister and I. Luckily he was walking the opposite direction and hadn’t see us.

A few minutes later Goodtimes walks up, giving me a quick pat on the ass.

“You talk to The Kid?” He asks me first thing. “We should head over to his house and have some drinks.”

“He’s here,” I respond.

“What, where,” Goodtimes asks, looking around.

“My sister and I saw him inside of the club across the street earlier,” I tell him. “We bailed and ran over to the Sportsbar instead.”

“Why? Did you call him,” Goodtimes says confused. “Maybe he’s still here.”

“I know he’s still here,” I reply. “I just saw him walking down the street with his cousin and a couple of chicks.”

I said this very matter of factly. No emotion, no anger. Honestly I wasn’t mad that he was with some fat broads. I was more  hurt that he had decided to ditch me for the evening.

“Really,” Goodtimes says, looking confused. “Dude, I’m sure that’s nothing. Let me call him.”

“No,” I say, slightly panicked. “If he wanted to hang with me tonight, he would have called. Let him do his thing and I’ll do mine.”

“Why, are you here with someone,” Goodtimes asks. “Like did you meet someone else that you want to hang with right now?”

“No,” I answer. “Ofcourse not.”

“Ok then,” Goodtimes says, pulling out his phone and dialing.

I immediately turn around and start to walk away. My sister had wandered to the side with the Hipsters and appeared to be ordering tacos from a roach coach.

“Why are you walking away,” Goodtimes asks following me.

“I’m just checking on my sister,” I tell him.

The truth was, I didn’t want to be standing there while he spoke to The Kid. I felt embarrassed. I’m not sure why. I guess I didn’t want The Kid to know that I had busted him. I didn’t want him to know that I knew he had screwed me over for the night. I didn’t want the drama. I didn’t want an explanation. I just wanted to enjoy what was left of my evening…Kid free.

Goodtimes must have read my thoughts because he closed his phone and followed me to the taco truck without another word.

The next day I received a text from The Kid in the afternoon.

The first said, “Whats up?”

I chose to ignore it. Mainly because the only response I could think of to say was, “Nothing dick.”

He text again a few minutes later, “Me and my cousin hit the town.”

A completely unsolicited confession huh? Goodtimes must have spilled the beans. So here this ass was trying to make himself sound like a good boy by sharing his night with me. Whatever.

I text him back three hours later…just to make a point.

“I know,” I finally said. “We walked right by you guys. Twice.”

“Really,” he answers. I got a very clear image of him raising his eyebrows innocently. The bastard has amazingly dark sexy eyebrows. “Outside or inside? We were with my cousin’s wife’s bff and her daughter…black dude magnets. I’ve never seen guys that aggressive in a club before.”

 Another confession. Hilarious.

"Both," I say, ignoring the rest of his text.

"Wow, I didn't see you gals. You should have jumped on me," he says, inserting a smiley face. "We might go watch Immortals later. You wanna check it out?"

I was so annoyed! I mean seriously? Why would I want to go hang out with the dick?  Maybe the girls really were nothing. But his excuse explained little. After all, they were his cousins wifes friends. So basically perfectly hookupable. And why would I go jump on him and tell him I was there? I'm not the type to force my company on others. I'd prefer to spend my time with people who value mine.

I hate these situations. I hate feeling this way. Unappreciated. Undesired. The lack of affection all week had been bad enough, but to ditch me like that? For a couple of broads who would obvioulsy still be here after I left? Such bullshit.

I don't respond. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. It was my last night in town. I had expected to spend it with him. Was this it? Was I done? Was this enough to end our 4 year romance?

"I'm going to take a power nap first," he text a few minutes later.

I waited an hour before I sent a response.


"K," I text.

He responded immediatley with, "Goodtimes has to pick up somone from work at 9, so the 10pm showing is the winner. What time is your flight tomorrow?"

I laugh to myself. I had never received such a quick response from The Kid. Especially during his nap time. I begin to feel bad. I mean maybe the girls were nothing. Maybe his cousin wanted some bonding time alone with his cuz. Maybe The Kid was just an idiot. He obviosly felt guilty. Even if I did decide to not speak with him again, did I really want it to end like this?

"Not until late. I'll text you later on when we are on our way," I say.

What the hell. It's not like I will be seeing the guy again anytime soon.

"Cool, sounds good!" he says. I can feel his relief.

Later that night, Double D and I head to his house.   I was nervous! I wasn't sure how how I was going to react to seeing him. My answer? Not well.

"Hey," I say after he opens the door.

He reaches out and pulls me into a hug. I avoid looking him in the eye. I can't seem to bring myself to do it. My cousin and I walk inside and take a seat. Goodtimes hasn't arrived yet so we have about a half hour to kill.

The scene is almost comical. The Kid won't sit down! He is running around the room cleaning up and talking his ass off. 

"Yeah man, last night was crazy," he starts off. "I couldn't believe how aggressive the black dudes were. I was actually starting to feel uncomfortable."

The Kid pauses for my response. I know he was expecting me to say something like, "Oh really? How so?," or "So what did you do?'

Instead, I decided to be a bitch and not say a damn thing. My cousin DD followed my lead. She, much like my sister, is another badass jokester. She often calls me in the middle of the night to ask my advice on how to torture the men in her life...just for fun.


After a few uncomfortable moments, The Kid continues is rambling.




I just sit there quietly. I answer a few of his questions, but only when he is not referring to the night before. He finally takes the hint and drops the subject all together.


I'm just not digging the whole situation. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to go home.


The Kid leaves the room and I turn to my cousin.




"Dude, how funny is The Kid right now?" I ask her. "I mean is it just me or does it seem like he is bugging out?"


"Oh yeah he is, "she replies. "He's so funny. I like how you wouldn't comment on his night. He didn't know what the hell to do." 




"I know," I say. "Took the ass long enough to realize I didn't want to talk about it. I don't know dude. I kind of wanna just go home."


Just as I made my decision, Goodtimes walks in followed by a scraggly haired girl and a little person. And by little, I mean a 3 foot midget.




My cousin and I exchange looks. Well there's no way in hell we can leave now! Leave it to Goodtimes to retain my interest in any situation.




He introduces us to his friends from work then we all gather our things to leave.  A part of me still wants to go home, but I couldn't figure out a way to do so without causing a scene. So instead I walked to The Kids car and got my unappy ass in.




The Kid was even more out of control at the movies than at his house. The two of us had been to the movies dozens of time with over the years and not once has he ever done what he did this time around. The guy actually put his hand on my leg! The entire movie he was rubbing my thigh and grabbing my hand. The Kid and I are not hand holders. On top of that, he wouldn't stop talking during the movie. He found any excuse he could to make a comment about the flick. I must say, it was pretty fun watching the boy squirm.






After the movie we head back to his place. I knew he expected me to stay the night. It was my last night in town. Our last chance to sleep together. I was positive he would pull out all the stops that night for me. Well, I'd be damn if I was going to give the guy the pleasure.




I sat down on the couch and began to plan my excape. I didn't want anyone to know I was leaving out of anger. I needed a legitamet excuse. The second I sat on the couch The Kid plopped down next to me. Well more like on me, than next to me. His leg was practically covering mine and his hand found my thigh again and gave it a squeeze.




That was it. I had had enough.




All of the attention and affection he was giving me was way too much, way too late. Where had this guy been all week huh? Did it really take guilt to make him treat me like someone he liked?




"So we gotta get going," I tell him after a few episodes of Family Guy.




"What, why, " he asks, looking concerend.




"My mom has to go in early to work tomorrow so she needs her car," I tell him.




It's a perfectly legitamate excuse. A complete lie, but believable enough for him not to question me.




I stand up to leave, my cousin following close behind me.




At the door, I turn around and give him a quick peck and a short hug.




"So what time is your flight," he asks me.




"I need to be at the airport at around 4pm I think," I tell him.




"Ok, I'll give you a call in the morning," he says to me. "Maybe we can grab lunch or something."




I give him a quick smile and turn around and walk to my car.




He didn't call the next morning....or the one after that.




He's texted a few times since then. I've responded, but we both know things aren't the same.




I don't know what the future holds for the two of us. All I know is that I'm done. Done with the relationship part. I don't want to pretend. I don't want to force it. The guy just doesn't do it for me anymore. I'm calling it. Time of death? Right fucking now.




I'm happy we ended on a good terms. Now I won't have to worry about things being awkward in the future, because whether the two of us want to or not, we will be seeing eachother again.




Afterall, Goodtimes is still our mutual Bestie.





WCC