The Gymnast Returns

Lying on her back, she sleeps peacefully next to me,  Her face is tucked partially into the covers. By the dim morning light I regard her.  She has a new piercing, a small barbell at the bridge of her nose.  Lying in bed we are worlds apart.

The Gymnast is back. A lack of money has brought her out of quarantine. Outside the birds have started their morning ritual of chirping.  She doesn't seem to notice.  I get up, make coffee and start my day.  I am letting her sleep while I write this. The alternative would be for me to be pawing at her soft firm ass, which I do occasionally during the night, but she likes her sleep as much as she likes to have sex.

The cat peeks in on our guest but doesn't venture passed the doorway into the bedroom.  I wonder if she will ever be comfortable with someone new joining our family.  The Gymnast will not be that person.

Last night, the Gymnast is quieter than usual.  "I have a lot on my mind," she tells me, but doesn't give any details when I press for more.  The virus has given us all more to think about.  "This was supposed to be my year to travel,"  she continues,  "Now I have got to go back to school."

"You are young.  You will still have time to travel.  For me every years seems precious."

I press my face against the warm soft skin of her chest.  "It feels so good to be next to someone," I tell her as I look up into her eyes.  Her lips curl into a smile. "Don't laugh," I scold before placing my face down onto her again.

"I get it," she replies, as we both slide out of our underwear.  "I am with my sister and grandfather all the time."

The Gymnast is a comfortable distraction   When she is here, she fills a part of that hole Billy left behind but she also reminds me how large that hole can be.  The last few days I have been thinking about Billy.  Trying to make sense of it all.  I keep thinking back to that saying,  All life is suffering.  We cannot change the past or trying to control the future.

The Gymnast rolls out of bed around 10:30.  I sit on the side of the bed and watch as she slides takes off the tee shirt she is wearing exposing her firm bare breasts.  She puts on a thin long sleeve grey shirt from the floor and replaces the tee shirt.  "So am I going to see you again, or do I need to wait till you are financially strapped?"

"I will be back.  I always come back,"  she assures me.

We head downstairs.  She takes a few sips of coffee before putting on her shoes by the door.  "Come here I tell," pulling her toward me.   "Give me a hug before you go."  I hold her close resting my chin on her shoulder and weaving my fingers into her soft blond hair.  Reluctantly, I let her go when she pulls away.

You've find yourself a friend that knows you well.
But no matter what you do 
You always you tripped and fell
So steady as she goes..  Steady, as She Goes, The Reconteurs

The Past Intrudes On Trust

I am working on chapter six of my novel this morning.  I have been thinking about this post lately.  I know I dwell too much on the past.  I blame it on the quarantining. This is a pivotal moment in our early relationship.  This is three months after we first met and a month after Billy's first failed attempt at rehab.  These blog posts are ingrained in my memories.  Unlike events I did not record they remain vividly remembered.  The lesson I have learned is never stop recording my days.  I regret the not recording more.

Originally Post Saturday, August 27 2011

The Past Intrudes on Trust

Billy and I are sitting diagonally next to each other at a high-top table in her hometown, eating desserts. The people around us all sit across from each other. The restaurant is crowded and a din of cacophony fills the air but we are focused on each other.

I take a break from my ice cream cookie to look at her. Her chin is resting in her palm and she is staring back at me, our postures are symmetrical. "Sometimes if you knew what I was thinking when you weren't around, the thoughts that go 'round inside my head, I'd have to apologize before even speaking them. I have seen to much. I have been hurt to often, " I say.

"What about me? I'm might be young but I am not used to a guy treating me good."

* * *

The past leaves it's scares. The worms of paranoia still slither in my head during the lonely hours of the night, questioning. Shadows linger...

Memories.

Tinkerbell and I lay close to each other in bed. It has been two months since she has moved in with me. I am reading a book by the light on the night stand. Tink was furiously texting a boy from her phone. She has caught him in a lie. It doesn't matter that everything she has been telling him was a lie. He thinks she is a dancer, living with the T-Rex at a sister's house.

I put down my book and suggest she ditch the liar. Boyfriends and girlfriends were against the rules of the house. Monogamy was out of the question, Tink was like a guy, she couldn't keep her dick in her pants. Tink crosses her naked thigh over mine to pacify me. Her skin was soft and warm. It was a calculated move on her part, all her moves were calculated but it appeases my need to be close to someone.

Months go by. The boy gains importance in her life and soon I am the one being fed the lies. Tinkerbell starts dancing again. She switches visitation times with the T-Rex's dad so she can spend more time away from my home. I feel the change, so I ask her to leave. She says she is ready to go anyway. Still I think it is a surprise. It is for me.  I always thought we would be together in the end.

* * *

Later Billy pulls up to the pumps of the gas station. She is driving-- again.  I am looking at the girl, not the road. A strand of blond hair has fallen into her eyes. "What is this?" What is going on between us?" I ask her, waving my hand between us.

She understands what I mean. "When I talk about you, I say my boyfriend, Bathwater."

"You do? " I smile in surprise and motion for her to come with me. I walk around to her door before she gets out and lean in the window. "I talk about you all the time, you know. I want to be your boyfriend. I want you to be my girlfriend."

Monday

It's been a long year since you've been gone
I've been alone here I've grown old
Fall to pieces, I'm falling
Fell to pieces and I'm still falling

We close on my father's condo this week.  The terms are immediate occupancy so we scrabbled to get the remaining furniture out this weekend.  The places we can donate the stuff are all closed.  My brother waited till the last minute to discuss this.  Perhaps he didn't realize or he was hoping the restrictions would be lifted this week.  I stopped by my friends Jay's house after.  We kept the socially distant.  Nothing is the same.  Nothing is going to be the same for a while.

Lately when I look in the mirror I feel like I am looking old.  Maybe it is the long hair.  My friends say I look better with long hair but I don't think so.  I am not feeling my age but I think I am starting to look it.  Fuck next will I have to start acting it?

The whole world has issues right now.  It feels like there is no one to complain too.  Do I have anything to complain about?  I am still getting paid.  I am not sick.  I do not need anything.  Well that isn't really true.

I keep a journal of memories 
I'm feeling lonely I can't breathe
Fall to pieces I'm falling...Fall to Pieces, Velvet Revolver

Hanging On

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you're sure you've had enough
Of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go
'Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes

I awoke realizing I had already re-posted "And We Are Broken".  I really am in some twisted version of Corona Virus groundhogs day.  Our governor has extend her "stay safe, stay at home order till mid May.  My mental state will be frazzled my then.  I miss humanity.  This year was supposed to be so different.  I was going to meet new people, take a few well deserved vacations how did we end up here?

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone (Hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (Hold on)
If you think you've had too much
Of this life, well hang on...Everybody Hurts, REM

Distant Past "Warning Some May Find This Disturbing"

It is late Friday night. I am sorting Lego and listening to 90's alternative music.  The songs remind me of the past. I don't feel like lying in bed.  This song is playing and I knew there was an old post tied to it. This was originally posted during the height of Billy's addiction.  I think the writing is superior to half the stuff I write today.

And We Are Broken

Originally Posted:  Monday, February 18, 2013

I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Goodbye...

I watch Netflix episodes of Alias off my phone in bed.  I watch the pounds creep up on my bathroom scale.  I have been reading, searching for a place for my voice among other novels-- still, I strain to put anything new together here.

My inner circle comes and goes from the condo.  I even went out with Jay and Alexis for a night of drinks at the bar.  They reminisced about their childhood sexual experiences together.  It was awkward. 

Alone in the darkness of my room, thoughts of being content with the limited perceptions of sight, taste, and sound without the pains of a physical body start to become appealing.  It can't really be called depression.  In accent times, it was one of the original seven deadly sins that affects me-- acedia. 

I get that text message, "Hey."   One word--

I'm packed, and I'm holding.
I'm smiling; she's living
She's golden. She lives for me
She says she lives for me ovation. She got her own motivation
She comes 'round, and she goes down on me
And I make her smile
It's like a drug for you
Do ever what you want to do
Coming over you
Keep on smiling, what we go through
One stop to the rhythm that divides you
And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse 

It is Saturday morning, and Billy wants to hang out, and I agree-- to all it will entail.  I pull my Challenger from the garage.  The weather has kept me from driving it the last few days.  The sky is clear, but a few light snowflakes float on the wind.  I haven't checked the weather, but I don't feel like switching vehicles and suffering the hour-and-a-half drive to Billy's house and back in the truck.

We talk on the phone as I drive in her direction.  I am anxious to see her; she is anxious for other reasons.  I tell her so.  "You feel the same way I do right now.  There is anticipation running through your skin, except not for me. It is for your drug of choice."

I make good time till I get into the city.  I hit a snow squall.  The roads turn slick, and visibility is reduced to a quarter mile.  The Challenger's 22-inch wheels and low-profile tires are like pontoons on icy pavement.  I am reduced to twenty-five miles an hour in the slow lane.   There are cars spinning out around me. 

The snow is not the kind that will accumulate into inches on the roads.  That would be better for the average northern driver.  The freeways remained slick, slowing traffic and causing the heat from the undercarriages to make the roads icier.  My hands are clenched around the steering wheel.

When I arrive, Billy comes to the car carrying a large purse and two bags filled with clothes.  "Have you been kicked out again?"  I ask her.  

"No."  When I express my doubts, she assures me.  "You can call my mom if you want."

Physically she looks good.  She is the heaviest I have ever seen her.  I can tell her mind is not clear.  She tells me she is on Xanax and that her stomach is in knots.  She has been using another person to acquire heroin, getting them hooked, then piggybacking off them to get her own by pretending the cost is higher until her patsy went to the dealer by himself and figured it out.

The snow in the city has gotten worse.  I'm sliding around the streets of Southwest Detroit in parts of town we have no business being. Billy cannot remember half the stuff she is told or does when she is high, but she knows every street in the ghetto.  We come to a stop in the middle of a snow-covered street.  Cars line both sides.  I look out my driver-side window.  A burned-out home and an abandoned house are on my left.  Several houses on the right don't look much better. 

Billy steps out of the car and meets the dealer on the sidewalk.  This guy has sold to us before but has never seen my car.  We usually buy from one of his runners on a different side street. She is back within seconds.  I catch a glimpse of a black guy walking back into a house.  I would not be able to pick him out of a line-up.  I am not sure I could get back to the same location.

Billy directs me in a series of right and left directions that get me back on the freeway while she unwraps eight foil squares the size of your index fingernail and pours the off-white powder onto her phone screen.  

The amount of heroin looks small.  The effects, combined with the Xanax, can be seen immediately.  She snorts the powder.  Within minutes she is 'nodding.'   It takes an hour to get out of the city and the snow squalls.  Billy appears to be sleeping for the ride, but I can rouse her with a nudge.

Chop another line like a coda with a curse
Come on like a freak show takes the stage
We give them the games we play
She said
"I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life
Baby, baby
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Goodbye..."

When we get home, I put in a pizza.  Billy gets comfortable.  We make a pot of coffee.  Outside, the snow squalls have caught up to us.  Big puffy flakes fall in a whiteout of snow.  Looking out the windows from the couch, the scene is picturesque.

We eat and play video games.  Billy talks of quitting next week. Her movements are slow she has no concentration.  Watching her is like watching a person trying to keep from falling asleep during everything she does.  It is sad to watch. 

I ask her if she has ever seen herself before.  She says no.  I start recording her with my phone while she is eating.  She doesn't notice.  I want her to look at the video tomorrow when she is straight.  She is compliant and happy when she is on dope.  Her mind shuts down, and she has a heightened sense of touch.

Billy snots another bump.  When it kicks in, there is no use trying to play video games.  She suggests watching a movie, and I agree.  We lay on the couch together.  I let my hands drift over her soft skin while the movie plays.  She gets lost in the sensations of my touch.  Billy turns to me, and we kiss.

I let my hands drift down between her legs.  Her eyes are closed, and her lips are slightly parted.  She is awake, and he breathing reacts to my movements.  She begins to rub me.  My need for her becomes urgent.   We are spooned, with me lying behind her.  Both of us have on light pants.  I pull them down and enter her from behind.  

It has been weeks since I have had sex, and I can control myself long while I am inside her.  I cum quickly.  Billy is asleep before I get back from cleaning up.  I take up my position on the couch and hold her close.  I drift in and out of sleep with her while she snores.  I'm sure she doesn't remember we even had sex on the couch.

The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Some place back there
Smiling in the pictures you would take
Doing crystal meth
Will lift you up until you break
It won't stop, I won't come down
I keep stock
With a tick tock rhythm
A bump for the drop
And then I bumped up
I took the hit that I was given
Then I bumped again
Then I bumped again, she said
How do I get back there to
The place where I fell asleep inside you
How do I get myself back to
The place where you said
"I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life 

I wake her after midnight.  "Billie honey, let's go upstairs."  

She apologizes for falling asleep.  "In my defense, I usually am in bed by nine at home.  I have nothing else to do."  

Billy does her final bump before we go upstairs.  She takes off all her clothes.  I follow suit.  In the dark, during foreplay, she comments, "You are not videotaping me, are you?"  As if she had some disjointed recollection of my taping her earlier.

"How can I be?  The light is off."

We have sex earnestly in the dark.  I pound into her hard from behind, feeling my body slap against her soft ass with each thrust.  She moans with each stroke.  We finish facing each other and fall asleep tangled throughout the rest of the night. 

I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords could make me cry
When I'm with you, I feel like I could die
And that would be all right
All right
And when the plane came in
She said she was crashing
The velvet it rips
In the city we're tripped
On the urge to feel alive
But now I'm struggling to survive
Those days you were wearing
That velvet dress
You're the priestess. I must confess
Those little red panties
They pass the test
Slides up around the belly
Face down on the mattress

The next morning I have to take her home.  I have Tinkerbell, Max, and The T-Rex coming over that night.  Billie is still involved with the other guy.  We don't try to figure anything out.  We have time for breakfast.  She picks a diner close to her home.

The drug haze is gone.  She is thinking clearly.  I show her the video of her from the day before.  She is not happy with what she sees.  She doesn't think she is always like that.  I assure her she is.  I tell her I could not believe her mom didn't know she was on Xanax yesterday.  This is the Billy I like. The Billy that is fun to be around but not using.  The morning after Billy.  She is not high, but she is not yet affected by cravings or withdrawals.  For a few moments, she is normal.

One, and you hold me.
And we're broken
Still, it's all that I want to do
Just a little now
I feel myself heavy on the ground
I'm scared I'm not coming down
No no
And I won't run for my life
She's got her jaws just locked now in a smile
But nothing is all right
All right

She asks the owner of the restaurant if they are hiring.  She charms him into allowing her to apply for an opening that doesn't officially exist. She tells me that she will go to her doctor on Tuesday to get on Suboxone. If she can't, she is willing to go back to rehab again this week.  I hope she does.  She should never quit trying to quit.

I clean the house when I get home, erasing all evidence of her presence before Tinkerbell arrives.  I don't want to answer any of her questions.  When Max arrives, we make replicas of the perk-a-cola bottles for every perk they offer in Call of Duty.  This morning I weigh 4 pounds less. 

The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Some place back there
In the place we used to sta-a-a-a-rt.... Semi- Charmed Life, Third Eye Blind

Future?

One of the greatest science fiction writers of all time, Isaac Asimov , created a series of books about the future and robots.  One of his themes was that humans colonized other planets.  Those planets became richer and more technologically advanced than Earth.

People on these less densely populated planets relied on robot labor and avoid human interaction.  I think our own society has been showing these same tendencies.  Young people are dating less and having sex less.  We communicate via Instagram, Facebook and Skype.  I think this virus is speeding up this social distancing.  People who would never consider using a video service have no choice now.  We are learning how to work from home, how to shop from home and order food from home.  Sure when this "stay safe, stay at home " quarantine ends we will return to our old routines but it only takes 30 days to create a new habit.

People will say, "Why are we going to the office five days a week?  Why do I need to go to the store?  Grandma is turning 75 this week let's set up a Skye with the family."  Social distancing will continue.  Now add in virtual reality, advanced computer games and a guaranteed living wage and we will become the Matrix.  Not the unwilling batteries for the computers like in the movie but willing blobs that don't take care of their physical body and spend all day online working on their virtual image. 

Reality will become what you want it to be...but it won't be real.  Actual human interaction will be disdained as something the poor are left with.  Don't take off your 3D glasses you will see the over-heated, over polluted real world.

Hook me up and plug me in so I can live my fantasy.  Ready Player One.

Trips and Pirate Ships

Yesterday Tinkerbell and I went to Home Depot to return the bi-fold doors and pick-up the correct ones.  The benefit of living in a large sprawling metropolis like the Detroit area is there are 15 different Home Depot locations to choose from wen searching for one that has the merchandise in stock.  Tinkerbell takes full advantage of this.  Why wait for doors when you can drive a little further to pick them up today.  So we drove thirty minutes to another of those areas we should be avoiding to do the swap.

The virus seems to take the fun out of these excursions.  More than once Tinkerbell sarcastically mentioned how fun these trips are when I am in a good mood.  I don't want to be out on the town.  The virus is only half of the reason.  We stood in line for about 20 minutes.  The sun was out but it was still windy and cold.  I kept my comments to a minimum.  There is still no forecast of a sunny day with temperatures over 60 degrees in the near future.

I have been spending my free time building legos.  I build a giant pirate themed set that is both a ship and a ship wreck.  The modified row boat in my creation too.

Now I am building a imperial clipper ship to battle the pirates.

That happens to be a pirate themed roller coaster on the background.

I think my next project will be some dystopian scene.  something to go with the virus!