I forgot about the salty air and the heat coming off his skin.
You only felt pain radiating through your bones, your fingers tight on the steering wheel, your other hand pressing down against your thigh to calm the ache.
That love is still there, moving through amygdala to hypothalamus, tangled in my hair, sticky on my thighs.
If you wear night-vision goggles, you can see certain wavelengths behind your sternum; infrared radiating through hairline cracks in your heart.
That night we fought about his wife. We were drunk. He had to buy the beers because I was only eighteen.
I waited on the beach for a while, watching the sun set in slivers where the clouds separated. When I went inside the chill of the room shocked me.
Once I went home with this guy named Brian. He was a barback at Vertigo. Remember Vertigo? I don’t remember too much except that we had sex on a couch under a giant picture of the Nothing’s Shocking cover and he kept telling me to say “I’m coming I’m coming!” The picture was really big,…
Sex became my way of connecting with the world; of feeling human. At the same time, it also kept me safely insulated. I’m not sure why I liked it that way but I think it might be because too many men died and I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain anymore.