The In-Between Girl

I remember the first time. In fact I remember all the times with a frightening clarity. I learned long ago that my memory does not work like that of others; I do not have a photographic mind for numbers or facts but for personal details, small things people said in passing, intimate moments that others forgot about... I remember them all.

I remember the first time. I was barely 17 and we had drunk down a bottle of tequila in 20 minutes. We were all running around the small apartment; you and me and her and him, laughing, giggling, tripping over the furniture. I had met you a few days earlier, the lost love of my new best friend. I was fascinated by your painted nails and big black jacket. All the boys in the tiny little town I came from wore cowboy hats, drove pickup trucks and none of them interested me. You were so different than what I had known before. I had been high or drunk for days at that point, on my first adventure out in the world. I remember... leaning on the little flimsy couch, you kneeling behind it. We were talking intensely like only two drunks can. Something exciting had happened to you that day and you were celebrating. We talked more and more intensely moving our faces closer together. Soon we were touching foreheads, rolling our faces back and forth because it felt good. Next thing I knew we were kissing and you were pulling me backwards with you, couch and all, until I was on top of you on the floor. The night spiraled out of control from there...

You know, she never let me live that night down. She would bring it up at random moments years later with sharp little jabs trying to hurt me. Trying to make me feel guilty. Even though I loved her then she was still a fucked up girl. It's strange now reading your side of the story so many years later; I being there shortly after it began. Always hearing her side only; her infatuation, the relationships she destroyed trying to be with you, her obsession, such a fucked up little girl. I had to let her go years ago, her destructive path too much for anyone to stick around for too long. I didn't want to watch her kill herself and I had too many other things that needed to be done...

Yes. I remember the next times; the intervening years. I did not forget. She was there again; somehow you knew where I lived. Had you seen me coming and going? When she left, you stayed and I was curious to why. We talked intensely once again, as we seem oft to do. You were there for hours; talking. The conversation turning from her and her fucked-upness to my recent obsession with the world of domination and submission; introduced to me by an intelligent dark-haired man with a very bent version of the world resting behind his eyes. He brought me with him and I realized I had been looking for it all along. And I let you play at it; I played at submission in those days still experimenting with what I wanted. Not all there yet. We played at it and it got deeper. More frightening the places we let it go. Your eyes locked on mine; the moment when I threw myself against you and had to stop. You were afraid of what it meant. At least I think you were. You picked up your crumpled pants off my floor and bolted out the door as fast as you could. It hurt but I had other things I had to dig for then; I had to find them and I had to tear at them. They needed to know I was there...

The last time. Yes, the last time. You brought that game with you again; tried to play by the same rules. But I had rewritten the rules; reinvented the game in all those years. Did you really think I would be the same? I still let you but I was always over-ridden with the urge to hurt you as I had hurt them. Always holding back before I took it too far. Didn't you feel the hesitation in my hands on your throat; squeezing but holding back knowing how far I could go. I enjoyed the fight; the struggle but it was a lot of work, forcing myself somewhere I wasn't entirely comfortable being anymore.

You know, it was the moments in between and after that meant something more to me. The moments when you lied in my arms choking back a sob, running your hands over me, confessing what had been happening to you; those moments meant... something. It's not like I didn't know you were going to run again. I attract men like you. I am the in-between girl; something interesting to occupy the time until the next girl comes along. Maybe I do it on purpose; I don't know. But you should know it wasn't just you. You weren't the only one that was leading me here. I knew you couldn't love me. And I didn't love you, but I felt something. You know what it was?... When I was trapped in a small house in the deep North taking care of my ill grandmother. I was exhausted, worried, tired, emotionally spent and everyday... every single day I was gone you got online and talked to me. Poked and prodded me to find out how I felt about you, sending me sexy messages, telling me about your Christmas plans, your cute little sisters... I had been trying to not feel anything for you at that point, just trying to have sex and move on like I did with everyone else. I didn't want to feel anything for you because I knew it would make you run faster. But you pushed me; wanted to know... What did you think was going to happen if you kept doing that? Kept coming at me? Kept trying to get under my skin? Didn't you think it was going to spark something in me? Why push if you didn't really want me? If you didn't really want to know?

But you pushed and we got too close and you ran. I expected it but it still hurt. I knew I was going to appear soon in your written history. I guess we all want to know we make an impact on the lives we move through. We want to be the hero for a little while. It's not entirely your fault. I had been trying to separate myself from the world for years at that point; do you know what it feels like to stand at your doorway and not be able to take the step beyond it? Unable to deal with the world that lays beyond; cringing when strangers touch you...

Is this the confession you wanted? The truth from me you were searching for? Yes I felt something. I'm glad I played with your sexuality and textuality. Sometimes it hurts to see you so happy. But I have loved and lived before; others have laid in my arms trying to take something from me. I just don't know what I can give anymore. I don't even really know what it is you want. What do you want? What are you thinking? What?

You have given me words and I have used them.
You have given me thoughts and I have twisted them.
You have touched me and in that moment I let it happen.
But I can't always be... can't always be... can't always...

It's done now, isn't it?

A Wall of Black Birds

My vision is filling up with tears. I feel feathers sliding against me at your touch. This world contracting to only the sensation of your skin against mine. Your breasts move against me; the warmth of each fleshy mound settling into the folds of my hands. Have you traveled far for me? Have you come to sit beside me in moment of rushing silence?...

I had something to say to you but when I saw you striding down the street all thought and coherence left me with the gentle flowing of your hair down your shoulders. You have always tasted of sweet distraction.

When you opened the gate to the yard, you startled the flock of birds hopping about searching for tasty little hard-bodied insects scurrying in the lawn. They flew up into a wall of black announcing your presence with a unified calling echoing through the neighborhood. The slicked-eyed neighbors poked their heads over their fences and whispered in conspiratorial voices. "Who is that now? That tall, swaying-hipped, crazy looking chick? Who is that? What is she doing there? I don't think she's wearing a bra! And blazing red stilettos? Who the hell does she think she is?"

With you standing at the bottom of my garden steps I start to wonder what I did to bring you here? Was I silently praying for you in my dreams? Was my subconscious wishing for you? You bat your delicate eyelashes at me and gently purse your lips...

"Aren't you happy to see me?"
"It's been along time. And the last time..." I trail off.
"The last time..." You glide your fingers over your heart, "We both suffered last time." You tug at the buttons of your blouse and suddenly I am in the past, racing through a field running after you down a dusty path. The police were close behind, shouting words I couldn't make out but was sure were profanities. You ran like a deer; gracefully, quickly, head long through the tall grass. I was close behind, my lungs burning, my legs aching.

"Stop! You crazy bitches! Stop!"
"Fuck that pig!" You screamed back over your shoulder. You still had one of the rocks your had thrown through their windshield in your hand. You were laughing wildly like a good-time girl on a crazy caper; I was afraid we were going to die at the hands of two big, angry, sure-to-be-rape-happy cops. I waited for a bullet to tear through my back. You turned your beautiful crazy eyes on me, "Come on!" you laughed reaching for my hand and pulling me down a steep embankment. I looked back long enough to see one of the cops falling head over heels down the hill as we cleared the train tracks and dove into the tunnel beyond.

You pulled me into a decaying building on the other side of the train yard.
"We can hide in here. They won't find us. They're too stupid."
"You're fucking nuts! You know that, right?" I said between gasps trying to catch my breath; my lungs still burning like they had hot coals dropped down them. My legs were shaking; I thought about how nice it would be to collapse right there. I didn't though, for fear of looking like a pussy in front of you. I wanted to be tough for you. To be crazy like you; an Amazon in a leather jacket fearlessly screaming "Pig!" into a 200lbs bigoted cop's face. I wanted to let go, just let go of my stupid little safe life and embrace some recklessness. Embrace you.

"Serves them right. Calling us dykes like that. I shoulda done worse." You turned that fearless stare on me and I couldn't help but admire your unthoughtful bravery; and I couldn't help notice your unbound breasts heaving under your thin white t-shirt. Each breathe causing them to rise and fall like mountains of soft flesh; quivering to be touched. I clenched my fists at my side and looked down. Suddenly your hand was on my chin raising my eyes to meet yours. Every inch of me filled with longing; my body ached with it, the core of me burned with it. You must have seen it in my eyes.

You met my lips with a soft kiss wrapping your arms around me playing your fingers along my back. Suddenly my hands were under your shirt, sliding over your nipples soon replaced with my mouth. I gasped out loud when your fingers slipped below the belt of my jeans. Time hiccuped and we were on the floor tearing at each others clothing; trying to find an opening. Slipping hands along skin, lapping at each other like hungry dogs, fighting for breath. Your skin shone in the dusty sunlight through the dirty window as you held my glistening face in your hands and gently mouthed, "I love you."

I snap back to the present. You are there. At the base of my garden steps. Your long hair shifting in the breeze, your breasts pressing against your shirt (still not wearing a bra after all these years), your eyes still full of that crazy glinting energy. You are framed with a wall of black birds all calling out your name. I stand in the doorway of the safe little life I built for myself when you left. The hole in my heart carefully covered over now. I want for nothing. For nothing. You left and I convinced myself I needed nothing. If I step away from this door my safety will be gone. My life fractured for sure. I clench my fists at my side. You chew on the inside of your cheek and for the first time since I met you I can see a nervousness under your smile...

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

Suddenly I am down the stairs and taking you all in my arms. I am forcing my mouth against yours and our lips are meeting in a moment of searing heat. We are both gasping for breath; all the memories of your skin rushing back to me at once. Your body sliding up against mine; no air between us. Chest to chest, eye to eye. Tears are sliding down my face.

"I've never been happier to see anyone in my entire life..."