Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Conversations with Lovers

“That was fantastic.” He said for the second time.
Mmmm.” She agreed.
“It’s been too long.”
Mmm. Do you have any Kleenex?”
He handed her the box next him. She removed three and proceeded to tidy herself up. Finished, she balled up the spent Kleenex in her fist and held it for future disposal. They lay there in the quiet of the bedroom.
“That was amazing.”
“You said that already.” She smiled. “Water?”
He reached to his bedside table once again and grabbed the bottle of water. He took a long sip and passed the bottle on. She drank and then played with the cap – tightening and loosening, tightening and loosening.
“It was good for you right?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You just seem so…” He thought for a moment. “A little distant or something.”
She stopped playing the lid game.
“I’m right here? Not distant.”
“So you’re not mad?’
“No why?” She sounded agitated. She was.
“You just seem a little ‘not there’ or something.”
“We just had sex. What more do you want? Stop being paranoid.”
Should I tell her now? He thought to himself. He opted for anger instead.
“There’s nothing paranoid about it!” He blurted. “It’s an observation. I’m allowed to have them right?”
Damn. He thought. She knows.
“For a guy who just got laid…” She didn’t repeat the obvious. She sat up in bed and scanned the floor for her underwear.
“Where are you going?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t look at him. With her underwear on, she turned to him. “Have you seen my phone?”
“No.”
“I hear it ringing. Where the fuck is my phone?”
“Who Cares? We’ll find it later.”
“No. I need my phone now.”
“But I wanted to talk about something.”
“I don’t have time for that.” She was half dressed and walking in and out of the room searching for her phone.
Just say it. He thought to himself. Blurt it out. Say something.
For the first time she seemed to notice him.
“What’s with you?”
This is your chance.
“Nothing.” He backed down. “When will you…”
“Found it! Fuck!” The phone had stopped ringing. She scrolled threw the missed numbers.
“Fuck.” She repeated. “I have to go.”
“Okay.” Was all he could say.
She finished dressing and left the room dialing a number. He heard her head down the stairs and out the front door. He went to the window to watch her leave but saw that she was standing on the lawn in front yelling into phone. He wanted to call out to her, to say goodbye. He opened the window only to hear:
“Well I just fucked someone too. Does that make you happy?”
A passing bus drowned out the rest.

1 comment:

C. A. Jackson said...

Breathe, dude. Crack yourself open and breathe.