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  • the guy i got next to me on the plane was a riot. He started talking to me before we were even airborne. immediately i thought to reinvent myself to this guy. why not right? he seemed the type to be loaded ( $$ wise) so why schmooze? I can talk as much of a talk as the next person with a healthy cash flow. He started talking to me about how he retired early and now he was going down to florida for a reason he promised himself he wouldn't - which was to go back to work.

    Got it. A guy super into social status based on career choice.
    Thus I went with the story of my working in industrial psychology. It always works on the business guys. Makes it sound like i can keep up with the suits (industrial) but still caring/soft as a woman should be (psychology).
    (my therapist would groan at this point to my audacity).

    Anyway this guy was obsessed with the swedish. Told about how his trip from salt lake city to minneapolis involved the woman next to him breast feeding the entire time and how he was ok with it. how the baby was this "beautiful blond baby" and he'd rather see lots of pale blonde babies than more brown ones.
    More brown babies.

    There was a biker to the right of this guy and i wondered how long it'd take before he stabbed this bigot suit. He didn't. Also i saw use in this guy. i knew i had to go down to find the car rental place in the airport and i was so anxious about it i was sick to my stomach. mostly because i knew once i got the car i would have to drive to the hotel on my own. in a city i didn't know. i had been anxious about this for almost a month.

    I got my car. I immediately got lost on the way to the hotel. called in a panic to get directions and he answered with just a minute to spare before he was going into his meeting. his directions sucked but to be fair i was trying to tell him the entire story of getting lost and what sort of shrubbery was near by. i suck at being lost. i tried to follow his directions but then got lost again. cursing up a storm i pulled over and remembered my phone had gps.
    fucking idiot essie.

    we got dinner and went back to the hotel and... yeah. it was a long time coming. i remember him tossing his hat across the room to the floor - and a mess of clothes and pants being lost and just blind need. then i had to take him home.

    i learned about u-turns down there. this sounds like i'm being metaphorical but really i mean it. i had never taken a u-turn in a car and you have to all the time down there. and there are lizards everywhere. we don't have lizards up here. down there you can barely make it a block without seeing one. i liked them and pointed them out everytime - and while it was perhaps endearing of me at first - by the third day he would give me a look of almost "yes you fucking idiot, there really are lizards everywhere". i thought -that- was endearing.

    i saw my first scientologists down there too - those people are fucking insane.

    we ate good food. we made awesome love. fucking awesome love. or love awesome fucking. any mix of those words - and it is correct.

    my anxiety was high almost all the time and he knew it. he saw it. he told me he could see it in how i moved and talked and held myself. how i looked at myself and how i watched him. i didn't know how to respond to that.

    fuck i'm doing an awful job describing any of this - to the two of you. let me break it.


    I liked watching him all the time. This is how danny puts on a belt. this is how danny picks up his fork and knife. this is how danny passengers in a car. this is how danny fucks with the lighter that refuses to work. this is how danny cums. this is how danny brushes his teeth. no wait. i never watched him brush his teeth.
    he thought i was slightly insane by the end for watching him so much. i tried to tell him why. like everyone in his world gets to see him everyday and how he holds himself and does all these things. these are things i have to imagine. this was my chance to see all of it and drink it in so i could imagine him doing it later.


    we drank so much damn coffee. i spent almost as much time peeing as watching him thanks to all the coffee. the barista at the coffee shopped asked my name to write it on the cup. i said essie. i got my drink and she had written esther on the cup. it was weird. no one ever connects essie to esther.

    turns out she is a bible banger i guess.


    we talked about aa and meetings and stuff. but not really. like one night he wanted to know if it was ok if he went to a meeting. i almost forced him to go. i sat at a coffee shop in scientology land while went to it.

    i wanted to talk to the scientologists but he didn't want me to.


    i don't think he really gets it. i told him how i wanted to be a better person for him. not that i wanted to better myself for him - but he is so amazing to me - like he gives me perspective. he is helping me be a better little sociopath. he doesn't know about how on the daily basis there are times that i remember things he has said. things that make me take a moment before i pass judgement on someone or something.

    he is teaching me to be more human - just by being him - and by challenging me being me. i felt like i have come across some sort of.. creature.. not an angel. not a savior of mine or anything like that. when he talks i want to listen. i want to hear what he has to say more than i want to hear what i have to say.

    it's a first for me.

    (spoken like a true narcissist - but i'm not kidding. it really is a first)


    i fumbled over my words down there. wanting to have some serious talk on at least 59 separate occasions. none of which he wanted to have.
    "We are just hanging out. we can have that conversation on the phone anytime. we have limited time to just relax". fuck i wish he had said that on day one. but how was he to know.

    that's the annoying thing i think we both do to each other.

    "I don't know what to say. i don't know how to be helpful right now."
    he had been talking to me about people he knows falling off the wagon. shooting the puppy in the face or whatever and at first i felt nothing to it. i didn't know these people and frankly i assume if you start shooting up heroin you deserve to die. of course i didn't say all that. i just said i didn't know what to say. his response to my dumb response was.
    "It's ok baby."

    Then about three minutes later i babbled on for a while about how i thought he should think about the puppy massacre and by the end he said "See baby? You said you didn't know what to say - but everything you just said was exactly what i needed. that was some pretty righteous stuff."

    like he knew i'd come around and have the right things to say. he knew it before i did.

    That's kind of how i felt down there. i knew he had the right words in him to say to me the things i needed to hear to calm down. he just didn't know it right away. just like i feel as though he knew i had the right words to say tonight before i knew i had the words.

    it's a phenomenon i've never experienced before. it's one of the most amazing things i've ever known.


    I kept one of his wrist cuffs. he gave me a handkerchief with his cologne. i am pissed now that stupid whores down there get to even smell him. i keep offering to beat up some bitches for him and he keeps laughing.

    when i smell the handkerchief all i can think of his the feel of my fingers moving against his chest. fuck i miss it.
    i keep looking at the sidewalks now expecting to see a lizard.

    this was some of my most discombobulated writing yet. the topic makes my a little dizzy with thought - or maybe that's emotion i am experiencing. either way it is fucking distracting and makes me write like some adhd slut that sold her meds to score some starbucks.

    plus i think you already knew all this - my heart - but i just had to get some of it down anyway. you know me.

    "I've already told you: the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure." - Marquis de Sade.

    being away from you is torment. yes. correct.
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