the coastergirl diaries volume forty-two

now that i think about it everything with jacob wasn't that hard to get over. i knew she hadn't done it out of any geniune love for him or even desire, but instead a childlike curiosity to experience more. there are those that will say if i had any self-respect i would have thrown her out then, but sometimes the best of our lives floats by us in the wind while we stare at walls for self-respect. i never wish to be one fo those. i loved her. i was in love with her. and more, she was in love with me.

still, that night after she left i went outside to wait for answers. maybe i was waiting on falling stars of meteors, maybe i was waiting ont eh sky to fall (that's how it feels sometimes). i waited half the night in the rain with storm-eyes calling out for answers.

i remember thinking about this day or that, running moments over in my mind, brain-film for what might have been my own little apocolypse. then again it might not have been. i thought about that night laying ont he lounge chairs on her back porch in the rain, watching the way water reacted to her. i thoguht about the ngiht we met, the way the wall seemed to bend in to allow her head around it to question me. i thought about the first time my fingers pressed into her, how hot and wanton she was. i thought about the first night, there in the car, when she had leaned into my lap to press her tongue against the skin of my penis. i thoguht about a certain hug late one ngiht when i was leaving out of sheer exhaustion to sleep and be ready for work the next day. the way, that night, that she pulled me to her, and how alive it was to be in her arms, to have her in my arms. i though about the ngiht we stayed up all ngiht flipping thorugh books and disgareeing about selections from my record collection. i thought an afternoon i spent reading at her restraunt and how as i left, she chased me out to throw herself into my arms and kiss me goddbye. i thought about...

i ended up walking in cricles around my block, watching the trees blow int eh rain and wind, watching the cars hiss by, feeling them splash the puddles into me, making them just one more weight to carry. i studied roadsigns and watched the creek-now-river run under the bridge and come out on the other side, somehow better and more in motion that ever. i watcht eh rain dance it's way into drainage pipes and down into flood control encasmenets buried in the cement for the flash-flood nights only texas knew so well.

afterwards walking up the stairwell to my little apartment, pulling my clothes off as i walked the last few steps to the door, naked in the cold in the rain only breifly before pushing the little key into the slot and sliding inside. i laid out naked on my bed, running fingers over the line of myself, wondering where one thing began and another ended, where ends that happen might be good. if such things were written in the skin as gypsys had longsince promised. i don't thinki cried, i just laid there, waiting, somehow, strangely, for the little specks, the texture of my ceiling to come in, to fall like snowflakes in western slope air, reminding me how small it felt to be. how small to be.

i don't really remember falling asleep, i remember vaguely having a dream about wandering through mud, thick as locust-swarms toward her and then stopping to enjoy the view, forcing myself to forget the hig, the toss, the smile, the lean of her head.

i woke almost taller and drove steady over to her house pretty early on in the morning to grab her and pull her to me, vowing to not let go until i felt her pull back. and i didn't. we didn't talk about jacob after that.

2004-01-11 | 7:59 p.m.
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