A sense of an ending
“I’m sorry I got drunk last night.”
“What about Beth Hart?”
“Oh, I feel too bad to go. I won’t able to enjoy the show.”
“Did I say or do anything last night?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“No, I blacked out.”
“Well, you broke up with me last night.”
“I don’t remember anything. I swear on my children’s lives.”
“We had sex right there. Too bad you don’t remember; it was pretty good. You passed out and I couldn’t get you to bed, so I got you onto the couch and covered you up, then went to bed. I had a pretty rough night. I lay there for five hours wide awake and finally fell asleep around five for a couple of hours. I remember when you finally came to bed, you crawled on top of me and apologized and fell asleep on my chest.”
“What did I say?”
“Well, if you don’t remember, I’m not going to tell you. Thing’s people say when they are drunk are not really reliable, but their actions can have real-world consequences.”
“It scared me. I have never blacked out like that before.”
“It was that last drink that did it. I suggested to you that maybe you didn’t really need another drink.”
“I don’t remember anything after Tom and Anthony left.”
“That’s when you had that last drink. I’m going to take a walk.”
She just looked up at me with that wide-eyed expression she gets on her face sometimes.
I went to the closet and retrieved my hat and coat and put them on.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” I said as I walked out through the front door.
I took the elevator down 26 floors to the first floor and strode through the lobby to the double doors that let out onto the street. Once out on the street I zipped my coat up the rest of the way and pulled on my gloves. It was cold and windy right there at Fourth and York. I hung a right and walked about 20 blocks down Fourth Street. I had a lot on my mind.
What she didn’t remember was that when Tim and Gregory left, she fixed herself another drink and came over to the leather sofa and sat down beside me and said: “I think we have come to an ending, and I think that is very sad.”
“Ending, what ending? What are you talking about? Us?”
“What do you mean, ending? Do you want to break up?”
She nodded her head yes.
“It’s just not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“That we would be lovers.”
“We were lovers at first. I can remember many nights coming through that front door we would pull each other’s clothes off and have sex right there on that rug.”
“Well, it’s been a while.”
“It’s pretty normal for the sex to ease up a little bit after a couple has been together for a while.”
“Yeah. But it’s not supposed to stop altogether. Have you had this problem with other women?”
“Some but not all. It is sort of a pattern with me. Look, we’ve talked about this before. You said you just wanted some intimacy. Remember after I massaged your foot the other night you came back down the hall and said, see, that is what I mean by intimacy?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to have to tell you!”
“Look, we have invested a lot of time and energy into this relationship. Don’t you think we can work things out?”
“No. I don’t love you anymore. Remember when I said, I loved the boy but not the man?”
“No. You never said that to me.”
“Well, I must have said it to myself.”
“Fuck it! If that is how you feel about it. Maybe this is a convenient off-ramp. I am not that crazy about being with you either. You sit over in your “cat corner all day and totally ignore me. You don’t say a word to me all day, pay no attention to me and you expect intimacy? You want to be desired? Try being a little desirable! Do you think my needs are being met? No! I’d like to have a conversation every once in a while. So, you can go to hell! By the way, if you keep opening your robe and expressing your breasts that way you are liable to get a little intimacy right here and now.”
That’s when she let her robe fall all the way open and I stood up and let my pajama bottoms down. She crawled over to where I was standing and placed my throbbing member into her moist warm mouth and began sucking and going up and down on it. I stood over her as she administered an expertly executed blow job and that’s when she passed out on the floor and I put her up on the couch.
That’s what I was thinking about on that cold Saturday morning as I walked the city streets in search of some answers. Since she didn’t remember any of it, I decided to keep my mouth shut and let things play out a little bit. I think I know how she really feels in her heart and what she thinks in her subconscious brain and I might just need to take advantage of that off-ramp. But when and how? That is the question.