it had been a strange day:
to see you for a moment, aloof and indifferent —
a far cry from the person i have come to know.
your e-mail arrived
and was a welcome change:
honest and open,
brave and articulate —
thank you for that.
there are many levels on which we interact,
and i am fascinated by all of them —
however, although they intersect,
they are also independent, and i sincerely believe
we can become friends, healthy friends,
not hiding an obvious attraction,
but not acting on it —
i agree with you in that the circumstances
are way too much (like, soap-operatic much)
and it is no small relief to sidestep
the potential complications,
to explore each other’s safer sides,
and to let our friendship blossom
out in the open and in the light,
instead of the dark closet of secrets —
you are amazing.
brilliant and beautiful —
and i am thankful
for your every word
and every minute.
"La Cienega Just Smiled"
Ryan Adams
We would stand by this agreement for the next five months. I never wanted to hurt Five Year. That was never my intention. I honestly believed I wasn’t cheating. Looking back it’s totally stupid. I know. I had crossed the line, maybe not physically but surely emotionally. Something in me changed subtly, like the moment the tide turns. Five years held so much weight. I hadn’t committed to five years of anything in my life — the closest was saxophone lessons in middle school and that only lasted two years. When I imagined my old age, and tried to picture myself on the porch swing with someone, that person wasn’t Five Year — truthfully, he never was. I never imagined us growing old together.
The song “La Cienega Just Smiled” held the pain of a breakup. The music and lyrics were absolutely crushing. Why? Because it was Anthony sitting next to me on that imagined porch swing. I knew it from the moment I met him. I was just too scared to admit that I felt this way about him, and Ryan Adams seemed to know it.
chapter six
flying high
“Thanks for coming to lunch. It was nice to see what color your eyes are.”
“And what color are they?” Playfully turning my back.
Anthony spun me closer by a belt loop, encouraged by my tease. “Green, like mine.” We were still giggling as we entered the office, his finger hooked in my loop.
“Hey Chas, where were you? We have a production meeting in ten minutes — ” Emily turned around in my chair, where she was waiting. “OHHH,” she said, as if surprised, “that’s where you were. Hi, Anthony.”
He responded with an awkward wave. Embarrassed, we said nothing, separated, and then parted ways.
“So?” Emily blurted.
“What?” I rolled my eyes at her.
From: le_samurai@yahoo.com
To: cturnquist@creative.com
Sent: Tuesday, March 1, 4:07 p.m.
Subject: the light of day
well, the light of day agrees with you…
if i ever get out for lunch,
we will have to do that again
without interruptions and uncomfortable goodbyes.
(our visits never seem long enough.)
"Flying High"
Jem
But I’m flying so high
High off the ground
When you’re around
And I can feel your high
Rocking me inside
It’s too much to hide
I know, oh yes
I know that we can’t
Be together
But, I just like to dream
From: chasityrae@gmail.com
To: le_samurai@yahoo.com
Sent: Monday, March 1, 1:09 p.m.
Subject: the songs you send
last night
this weekend
every day
I fight with the idea
of seeing you.
I think about the consequences,
the repercussions.
and I don’t care
if it means a moment
with you.
it’s a struggle
to push feelings aside
to be rational
a battle I am losing…
I adore you.
the way you smile at me with green eyes
the way you grab my belt loop to pull me closer
your words
your thoughts
your e-mails,
and the songs you send…
I adore.
…
I did it. I confessed everything to Emily. I needed to tell someone. I admitted I was flirting at obnoxious levels, that I had crossed the friendship line but always tiptoed back to the safe side. I played her some of the songs he sent, like “Flying High.” I told her about the dozens of e-mails sent in less than a month, never losing contact. I told her I knew about Anthony’s current fling with a roommate, and of his rowdy nights with his best friend Jay. That he knew about my relationship with Five Year. I told her there was a sense of relief in getting to know Anthony without the weight of attachments. How we’d laugh too long. Sneak out for lunch. Give lingering goodbye hugs. I told her I couldn’t get enough. I even confessed the secret conversations in the stairwell. I did. I told her everything.
“I love it!” Emily said, laughing and shaking her head. She wasn’t surprised. She told me about how she too looked for that right person, trying to find a guy who was fun and sexy and funny. She confirmed those restless feelings of standing in that nowhere place, trying to find someone to love, someone to hold on to — and she found him. It was good to share those experiences with her. It’s what brought us together as friends, because at that point in our lives we were experiencing the same feelings and emotions, the same sense of searching. Love in your twenties can be a confusing thing. It holds much more weight because you don’t want to waste time or play games. You want to approach love with absolute faith.
Her truth was reassuring, and her delight, completely contagious.
chapter seven
don’t stop
From: le_samurai@yahoo.com
To: chasityrae@gmail.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 2, 2:47 p.m.
Subject: good morning?
a strange mood for a strange day…
but i also think i’m feeling more
comfortable with you as a person,
and consequently am more
open/brave/inappropriate…
perhaps because we’ve ruled out
something happening between us,
it allows us to feel more comfortable
with flirting to obnoxious levels…
for example:
some of my favorite things in the world
are sex, spooning, and napping —
but done in perfect tandem with each other,
then, well, that’s a lovely way
to spend a weekend afternoon —
but i wonder,
you seem so driven and intense —
i wonder how well you relax,
how good you are at lazy sundays,
and how much you enjoy
the things i enjoy…
the “brazilian girls” are playing sunday
at the knitting factory
and also tuesday at the temple bar —
me and jay do our best groupie impressions
and try to see them whenever they come to town…
might even go to both shows.
important note:
the name is not exactly accurate,
as there is only one girl in the band,
and she’s from spain, italy, or something…
&nb
sp; so i’ve attached another song,
and you really ought to be careful
with this one, cause it fuckin’ thumps!
(and it’s kinda sexy too…)
hmm.
this is me
slowly stepping back
behind the line.
"Don't Stop"
The Brazilian Girls
From: chasityrae@gmail.com
To: le_samurai@yahoo.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 2, 3:34 p.m.
Subject: Re: good morning?
well then.
ehum (clearing throat).
good thing I switched to my “private” e-mail address.
although I too like to spend a weekend afternoon
with sex, spooning and of course naps…
I can assure you our sexual appetites differ.
I can be intense
quite frisky
and surely hungry.
and this is beyond obnoxious flirting.
especially with a song like that.
From: le_samurai@yahoo.com
To: chasityrae@gmail.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 2, 3:45 p.m.
Subject: Re: good morning?
when was the last time you had sex?
From: chasityrae@gmail.com
To: le_samurai@yahoo.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 2, 4:01 p.m.
Subject: Re: good morning?
knowing your answer is probably last night…
remember I do have a steady boyfriend…
of five years.
which is sorta like being married.
so sex is less of a need.
more of a want.
not to mention,
my bedroom habits, and my last time
is really none of your business
since we ruled out our relationship
ever reaching this point.
monday.
Neither of us could control what was happening, in particular our physical attraction. I wanted to devour Anthony, kiss him, cuddle him — hell, even hugging him was satisfying. He was sexy, and talking about sex — talking about anything at this point was, well, sexy. I teetered from practical to improbable. I wasn’t a cheater. My God he’s hot. I lost myself in my attraction to him. The push and pull from lust to guilt had me spinning.
From: le_samurai@yahoo.com
To: chasityrae@gmail.com
Sent: Thursday, March 3, 9:31 a.m.
Subject: new day
a new day
new e-mail.
it would have been nice to see you,
to follow up all the written words
with a physical presence, and a smile —
but honestly, it did become frustrating
to think about you, visualize you
in all of your uninhibited beauty,
loving, being loved, and being free…
it is hard to smell the aroma
but not taste the dish…
and yes.
i am hungry.
but you were right,
in that sex does mean
different things to you and i —
the superficial appeal
does not deafen my ears
the way it once did,
but the loving i miss
and the loving i want
comes from as much of an emotional place
as it does a physical one —
the emotions we feel
with the one we are with,
elevates us into another dimension —
sheesh!
hot shit for first thing
in the morning
From: chasityrae@gmail.com
To: le_samurai@yahoo.com
Sent: Thursday, March 3, 10:32 a.m.
Subject: Re: new day
you my friend, are a helpless romantic.
your ideas of love and intimacy are endearing.
you really need a girlfriend to adore!
I too prefer to have an emotional
as well as physical connection with someone.
to love. to be loved.
the only difference is…
I can keep them separate.
I can enjoy each one,
physical, emotional,
on separate levels.
to me they don’t go hand in hand
but compliment each other,
whereas some need one to have the other.
I too agree that yesterday’s conversation
may have been a little frustrating,
but I look for the possibilities…
and anxiously wait meals ahead.
From: le_samurai@yahoo.com
To: chasityrae@gmail.com
Sent: Thursday, March 3, 12:41 p.m.
Subject: Re: new day
i have been in love before,
beautiful, dizzy, inspired love —
and these days, anything less
seems like a waste of time.
too often in past relationships
i have felt the guilt and sadness
of an unbalanced relationship —
when one is loved more than they love…
my brother once told me
fall into that category,
and its just a matter
of what side of it you want to be on…
my mother told me once
that the side you’re on oscillates with time…
christ. this is making my head hurt —
anyway,
last time i had sex was friday —
and it was sweet, safe, and comfortable…
not quite the adjectives i like.
you just came in, to give me a hug
and now i’m all thrown off…
…
I didn’t even knock, I walked right in. Closed the door behind me.
“I’m a girl and that’s what girls do. Sometimes we’re aggressive and sometime we want to cuddle. And sometimes we sleep with men we don’t love. We overanalyze things and sometimes we don’t know what we want. At least, I don’t know what I want. I get moody sometimes. I’m a girl. And I’m sorry if our e-mails felt feisty yesterday. Sometimes I get like that. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” I opened my arms, and motioned my fingers inward. “Now give me a hug.”
I talk too much when I’m nervous and sometimes I have this high-pitched, pouty whine. I’m a girl and that’s what girls do. We whine.
chapter eight
breathe me
In between bites of pasta, Five Year continued, “I know we’ve been fighting a lot, especially the past few months. I know that you’re trying to rediscover yourself, playing guitar and writing more…” He chewed, stammered on. “Hell, I remember being in my late twenties and needing to find my own again, too. I just hope this search doesn’t affect our relationship. I want you to know that I love you, and I am completely content.”
I shuddered at the word content but acknowledged his sincerity with a brief smile.
He didn’t notice my cringe. “I’d hate for things to get more complicated between us. We seem to be fighting all the time. Even more since you’ve been rediscovering yourself. I do want you to enjoy those things again. I want to enjoy them with you. I’m just scared of losing you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
From: chasityrae@gmail.com
To: le_samurai@yahoo.com
Sent: Monday, March 28, 10:46 a.m.
Subject: hurt…
this e-mail is certainly NOT meant to hurt you,
but it will bring you no comfort or pleasure.
it is me simply being as honest as I can
with you
with myself.
I am crazy about you —
there is no denying that.
plus I think I tell you in every damn e-mail.
but it is becoming
much
more than that.
feelings I can’t control,
we can’t control
feelings of love, yes, love
of passion.
of obsession.
feelings that scare me.
I hardly know you.
but am terrified by our likeness.
and throughout these feelings
I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!
a sweet and caring boyfriend.
who might not make my skin crawl with hunger.
who might not have the poetry of life,
and the passion of love in his fingertips,
but he is mine.
and I do love him.
and he loves me…
I am not sure I am ready to leave.
I am not sure I am strong enough.
you deserve to be loved.
and loved fully.
I CANNOT offer that.
I wish I could
but I cannot.
so I am asking you again.
I am hurting.
so before I hurt you,
as much if not more
than I am hurting myself…
walk away.
please.
I care too much about you.
today…
let’s talk, get coffee, question…
then take a little time to sort out our lives?
"Breathe Me"
Sia
We hadn’t talked all day. My e-mail sat with no reply. I figured Anthony was upset when his voice on the phone asked me to meet him in the stairwell “right now.” He hung up before I had the chance to respond. I was apprehensive. I walked slowly as I imagined him pacing, waiting, angry.
His watery eyes welcomed mine, soft and anxious. It caught me off guard when I opened the stairwell door and saw him on the top step. I dragged my feet as I climbed each stair. Charged with courage, he met me halfway on the staircase, then clutched my waist. Before I could say a word, he pressed my body against the wall to meet his. It all happened so fast. I felt his weight against mine and caught my breath. Eyes wide open, he placed his lips gently on my cheek, and then stopped as we both exhaled in one big breath. He knew what I was going to say before I said it.
We held our faces close, intimately rubbing cheeks, nuzzling noses, lips, ears, eyelashes, purely breathing each other in. Inhale. Exhale. Bodies pressed as close as clothes allowed.
We never kissed. We merely absorbed one another’s breathing. Feeling only what we wanted to feel. Repeating smiles. The rest of the world didn’t matter.
“Does this help sort things out?” His whisper kissed my cheek.