...three, two, one...

in three and a half hours, we will end this year to start a new one. i actually hate this night the most of all nights. its a mixture of sadness of the year gone by and a hope for the new year to come. it leaves me feeling sad, and this year, lonely.

its by choice, really, to be alone at home on this night. in the past, i drink too much, and i am sloppy and weepy when the ball drops. in the past, i watch movies with friends, and i want the wrong boy to kiss me. in the past, the irish bloke and i watch the twilight zone marathon.

this year, he is with someone. and i am alone. there is some magic in that because at the end, we both get what we want. he wants stability; i want freedom. he wants marriage; i want to play still. he wants a wife; i want nothing.

lately, ive been thinking about him. damn, it bothers me. these thoughts come at inconvenient times. they come when i hear a song he likes, when i see a book he leaves as a reminder of his presence, when i feel cold, when i smell his tobacco from someone elses lips. they sneak up on me, and i have to swat them away before they savagely invade my space. i am usually successful, but there are days when im too slow.

anyway, i can rest assured that he will not come knocking on my door one day, as i had once feared. he is happy now, he is taking care of someone else, and they have bought a house. i dont know, i dont care. except i do. its not a jealousy thing. its a curiousity thing. he doesnt believe he and i can ever be friends, so he cut me off completely. goddamn him for doing so. but in deep reflection, i realize that there would be no other way.

i wonder when i will feel the need to be with someone again. i can convince myself for moments at a time that i am ready, but i am still so closed off really. i know this. and the more i try to push myself to go out with someone, i end up feeling miserably.

i suppose i should really abdicate from boys or men, in general. at least for awhile. thats what my celibacy was for. but i think i need to go cold turkey with all boys. that means i wont be talking to ben, my phone sex buddy. to aaron, my online boyfriend. to the date. and to roben, who contacted me today. nock has already given up on me, as has fred and bob. yay!!! absolutely beautiful news.

i have the right to be wrong, sings joss stone, so just leave me alone.

next new years eve will be different. matt and i will be with the love of my life. we will be sitting in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance with each other. we will be looking at the shadows on the wall and laughing at how our heads look when light and darkness contrast. matt will go up to his room to sleep until it is time to welcome in the new year. my love and i will cuddle and eventually make love from all that rubbing against each other. when we finish, it will be time to welcome in the new year. he will pour wine for us and apple cider for matt, while i run upstairs to wake up my teenager. he will meet us on the couch in front of the fire, and we will watch the recording of the ball dropping at times square in new york. we will hold each other in anticipation, and as the ball drops, we will grab our glasses and hold them up.

"...three...two...one..." someone will countdown.

and he will turn to me and kiss me. then, we will hug matt and greet the new year the way we will greet future new years: together, in love, and happy. we will then retire to bed. and he and i will make love and fuck and fall asleep in each others arms, smiling.

until then, heres to you, baby. see you next year.

something new

it is raining out. on this, the last day of the year, you would think mother nature would grace us with sunshine and warmth, rather than wetness and clouds.

i want to go out and grab lunch with matt, but im a bit stoned, and it would be too foolish to do something like that in this little storm. so we will wait to go out for dinner.

ive always wondered, should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? isnt that rather mean? and speaking of mean, does anybody really know what auld lang syne really means?

i see a wonderful little film, munich, with a bloody date yesterday. yes, folks, i admit it...i watch the 3-hour long dramaction with a date.

the movie was fantastic, captivating, and all that other jargon movie critics use. i am so enamored with eric bana, especially since my friend looks so much like him in the movie.

after the movie, the date asks me if i have time for dinner. i tell him yes, and we walk to a restaurant two blocks away.

heres the kicker. as we were blah-blah-blahing on our walk, he touches my hair, and i instinctively lean in to his kiss. dammit, its so automatic for me to take a kiss when it is offered, whether or not there is a connection, no matter how slight or how magnetic. there is no hesitation, just intimation, and i kiss with no regard that he may be a bad kisser.

honestly, folks, i do not think this kiss would happen. i mean, when we first meet, we shake hands. then, he presents me with my ticket, and we proceed to theatre number 2 to our right. we sit next to each other and blah blah blah about chicago, san diego, and la. three common places we romped at one time or another in different paths of our lives.

the movie lasts for hours, and there is no hand holding, no accidental touching, no leaning over for a smooch. (ah, the memories of manny gizmo tulip and that forsaken movie we saw.)

he tells me he is a lawyer, that he likes his job, and that before la, he worked in san francisco. he has a smile that brings out his dimple from seclusion. he is a really nice guy, but i dont do nice. i like the courageous, the bold, the sexy. but the nice? they become my friends, or i introduce them to my friends.

the kiss really surprises me. but i applaud his bravery to make the first move, and i am charmed by the "mmmm" sound he makes when we pull apart. it was nice, sweet. good balance between tongue and lips. there was absolutely nothing wrong with it at all. i dont know why i dont respond more fully.

dinner is great. the conversation flows, the food tasty. i tell him about my breakup, about his to me, and although i am comfortable and having a good time, i wish i could be at home reading. it isnt that he is uninteresting. its just that im so uninterested. how could this be so?

after he pays for the tab, we walk to his car, where he kisses me again. i try to make myself respond. i kiss him back, and i push against him suggestively, but my mind, my heart, and certainly none of my body parts are in it. he invites me over to watch a movie at his house, but i tell him no. damn. so, i leave him there with a hard on and a smile, but not before thanking him for the evening with a brush of my hand against his cock.

now, my friends know two things about me: i dont date, and i firmly believe kissing is very telling of how the rest of the night goes. sometimes, i like to play against my own rules about dating...but never about kissing.

i meet up with my two friends after the date. they wonder why i dont like this guy. but first they wonder how he and i end up going out in the first place. i dodge the questions because i have no answers.

dating is something new to me, something i dont want to accept as doing. ive always imagined that the ritual of dating is much like the sacrifice of stuffed animals. i dont understand it. and i dont want to be a part of it.

so, how do i meet the boys? i dont. im just not ready yet. at least not this year.

learning

there are days when i am driving a ferrari on this highway to heaven. then there are times, like today, when i opt for a slower car, my trusty adored honda accord, to take in the sights, to see what i have missed while cruising on 101 mph on the 101 freeway.

it has been awhile since ive thought of the irish. there is no point, really, to reminisce because it is a done deal. but i am a girl, so my curiousity always gets the best of me. it has been 15 months, 4 lovers (mine), and 1 marriage (his) since he left, and i havent yet learned to let go completely.

i check his profile the other day to recall the words that made me fall in love with him in the first place. it is no longer there, a fitting similarity to our non-existent relationship. rather, it is replaced with a simple page with a few pictures of his new friends. i check each one out, and from the blurbs, i once again get slapped in the face - harder this time - with the assurance that he is indeed with someone else. this discovery doesnt cripple me for days like it once did, but the sting is still there. it numbs me, as i continue to read how he encouraged his wife to go back to school. i make a judgment about her from her screen name and from some warped images, and i decide they belong together. not in any accusatory way, but in a statement-of-fact way. honestly, i am happy for him because he has always wanted to get married and settle down.

i learn many things about who i am through him. i say his name still sometimes out of sadness, out of happiness, when i am afraid, when i am cumming. i love his name. he protects it because it really is all he wants. take away the boys money, his fight, his last cigarette, but dont you dare mess with his name. it defines him. and when i say it now, it affirms me.

i learn about the small space in the very bottom corner of my heart the other day. i fall into it in my search for inspiration. in it, i find happy times. i see snapshots of us in hawaii, of him smiling at me when he wakes me up with coffee he prepares to get me out of the house on time, of him and matt walking hand in hand. i hear his words of advice to the boy, his laughter, his singing. i smell the tobacco on his collar, my perfume on his jacket, the pizza bagels he makes for me and matt on school days. i feel his breath on my shoulders as he is about to cum, the roughness of his stubble against my inner thighs, his body collapsing on mine. i taste his lips, his tongue, his love.

and although i would love to bask in this sensous place, i learn to not overstay. i learn that these images are of the past, and when i close my eyes, they disappear. i learn that the girl there isnt the girl here now. when i leave that place in my heart, i walk away slowly to savor what i had been exposed to because i do not know when and if i can come back again.

it wears me down, these visits. they pull me to stay, but i know i must go. it is a tug o' war between heart and mind, a conflict that never resolves itself.

i miss him, i wonder who he has become, and i say his name again. but i am not seduced by these memories.

i choose to remember the good times, but i am so aware of the bad times we shared also. it is because of them that he isnt here...and why i dont want him back.

learning

there are days when i am driving a ferrari on this highway to heaven. then there are times, like today, when i opt for a slower car, my trusty adored honda accord, to take in the sights, to see what i have missed while cruising on 101 mph on the 101 freeway.

it has been awhile since ive thought of the irish. there is no point, really, to reminisce because it is a done deal. but i am a girl, so my curiousity always gets the best of me. it has been 15 months, 4 lovers (mine), and 1 marriage (his) since he left, and i havent yet learned to let go completely.

i check his profile the other day to recall the words that made me fall in love with him in the first place. it is no longer there, a fitting similarity to our non-existent relationship. rather, it is replaced with a simple page with a few pictures of his new friends. i check each one out, and from the blurbs, i once again get slapped in the face - harder this time - with the assurance that he is indeed with someone else. this discovery doesnt cripple me for days like it once did, but the sting is still there. it numbs me, as i continue to read how he encouraged his wife to go back to school. i make a judgment about her from her screen name and from some warped images, and i decide they belong together. not in any accusatory way, but in a statement-of-fact way. honestly, i am happy for him because he has always wanted to get married and settle down.

i learn many things about who i am through him. i say his name still sometimes out of sadness, out of happiness, when i am afraid, when i am cumming. i love his name. he protects it because it really is all he wants. take away the boys money, his fight, his last cigarette, but dont you dare mess with his name. it defines him. and when i say it now, it affirms me.

i learn about the small space in the very bottom corner of my heart the other day. i fall into it in my search for inspiration. in it, i find happy times. i see snapshots of us in hawaii, of him smiling at me when he wakes me up with coffee he prepares to get me out of the house on time, of him and matt walking hand in hand. i hear his words of advice to the boy, his laughter, his singing. i smell the tobacco on his collar, my perfume on his jacket, the pizza bagels he makes for me and matt on school days. i feel his breath on my shoulders as he is about to cum, the roughness of his stubble against my inner thighs, his body collapsing on mine. i taste his lips, his tongue, his love.

and although i would love to bask in this sensous place, i learn to not overstay. i learn that these images are of the past, and when i close my eyes, they disappear. i learn that the girl there isnt the girl here now. when i leave that place in my heart, i walk away slowly to savor what i had been exposed to because i do not know when and if i can come back again.

it wears me down, these visits. they pull me to stay, but i know i must go. it is a tug o' war between heart and mind, a conflict that never resolves itself.

i miss him, i wonder who he has become, and i say his name again. but i am not seduced by these memories.

i choose to remember the good times, but i am so aware of the bad times we shared also. it is because of them that he isnt here...and why i dont want him back.

february 2004 - august 2004

we have been mostly silent towards each other, but when we do speak, we yell and scream through tear-filled anger.

he says he loves me still and doesnt want to leave. i tell him that i love him, but we cannot continue this way. we need to talk, to figure things out. he refuses to make time.

he stops sleeping now. he doesnt come to bed, and i cry when i wake up alone. i call out to him, and he comes, but he doesnt stay. i ask him to hold me until i fall asleep again, and he tells me no.

i conjure up a plan to end this painful relationship. he doesnt want to leave, i dont want to stay, we do not reach a compromise.

i begin to spend increasingly more time away from home to avoid him, at the sacrifice of my son. i stay at work, talking to ansa, telling him about my relationship and how unhappy i am. he tells me to leave him, and i say i will. our friendship develops, and ansa tells me he wants to sleep with me.

he needs to get surgery for his hernia, and he asks my brother to take him. he is in the operating room for i dont know how long because he doesnt call me to let me know when he comes out. when he gets home he is doped up on vicodin, and he sleeps off the pain. i go out with some friends until 11:30 p.m.

i take him to a doctors appointment a few days later. i wait for him outside in the parking lot, and he comes out to ask me to go inside with him. i know he is in pain, but at least he is medicated for it, while my pain remains constant and steady.

we get back to the car, and i have a parking ticket waiting for me. i am angry, and i am hurt, and i start a screaming match with him. i say things that have plagued my thoughts, expecting him to take my words and swallow them like the bitter pills he was prescribed. instead, he lashes out at me and says he cannot take this anymore.

when we get home, he leaves my house. he takes his bag, and he starts to walk. i know he is in pain, but i do not stop him. i am relieved. i am distressed. i am grieving. i am slowly starting to heal.

when he comes back, he says, "look, we need to talk. you cannot treat me this way. i wont let you."

"then leave. please. thats the only thing you can do. it hurts too much to be with you without being with you. we dont talk, we dont kiss, we dont communicate."

"i love you, baby, please lets just do this. please lets make it better."

"i dont know how. itll be up to you from now on, if you want to make this work."

"i love you, and i wont let you leave me." he hugs me tightly. i let him. his scent is so familiar. his voice is so sweet in a whisper. i love this man, but i cannot do this anymore.

we try for awhile. half-ass efforts that mean nothing to either of us. i continue to cry myself to sleep and use work as an escape from my domestic unhappiness. i know now why married people cheat.

one night, he and i get into a civil fight. the one where we get nasty without yelling or feeling. i tell him that i am going out and to not expect me back until late. i do not know where i am going, but i need to leave his side. i call ansa.

ansa and i go to dinner, we talk, and we make plans to see a movie. i tell him about my relationship, and he rolls his eyes at the repetetive details.

ansa asks me if i want to fuck him. in oblivion, i say, "sure." i am looking out the window of his car as i say it, and i notice we are on the freeway to his house. when we get there, he sits me down. he studies me, and then he kisses me. i wish i were more excited, but my pain numbs my sexuality. i get up to go.

i get home, and i go to the patio to smoke a cigarette.

what is happening to me? i wont sleep with someone else, i wont treat him that way, i think.

i look for my love. i find him studying, and i ask him to join me outside. the night is beautiful. we are both night owls, which is perfect for our late night lovemaking. outside now, i tell him of my unhappiness, and of my despair that i might not ever be happy with him.

he listens. he doesnt offer any comfort to my suffering. then he says study break is now over, and he goes back to the kitchen. i go upstairs to bed.

the rest of our time together is a cocktail mix of aggravation, difficulty, and resignation. when i ask him to leave, even for just a month, he concedes. he speaks with his father, and the date is set. he will leave in a two weeks. only for a month, then he will come back, and everything will be rosy.

the pressure is off of us to make this work. there is a deadline now for our time together. when that day comes, we no longer have to deal with each other. so we make plans for fun. we go out, we watch old movies, we go to amusement parks. we do not fight, and this confuses me. i remember why i love him again. maybe he shouldnt leave?

it is late at night, and i am ready for bed.

"come with me?" i ask.

"i will. but i have some stuff to do first."

"okay, ill wait for you right here, and when youre ready, pick me up, and we will go to bed, and ill do the stuff you like for me to do."

"this might take long, so you go ahead, and ill come in when im done."

"no, baby, ill wait. otherwise, you wont come."

"no, honey, go ahead. ill be up soon."

i make the long trek upstairs, take off my clothes, and cuddle up with my longterm companion - a good book. i fall asleep after a few pages, and i awaken three hours later alone.

"bay - beeeeee!!!" i call out into the night.

silence.

"bay - beeeeeeee!!!"

finally, he hears me and comes up.

"are you okay? youre sweating."

"i had an awful dream."

"tell me about it, honey."

"i dreamt that you left me, and you forgot about me. and you got married, and you didnt know me anymore."

"never, sweetheart, never."

"promise? promise me that youll always love me and that youll come back to me whenever."

"of course. you and i belong together. now lie down, and let me get you all tucked in." he sits with me as i fall asleep. he lets go of my hand when i am softly snoring.

and he leaves.

fear of intimacy

need i say more?

whats my problem? this is my problem.

solution?
(a) get therapy

(b) ignore problem

(c) maintain status quo

(d) problem? what problem?

(e) engage in meaningless sex after vow of celibacy becomes just another passing fancy

they say to always choose (c) in multiple choice exams...

randomness

first...
"you really like this chase thing, dont you?" he asks me.

"huh? what do you mean?" i ask pushing his hand away from my hair and moving my head to avoid his kiss.

"you...like...chasing...and being...chased...dont you?" he talks slowly, as if i dont understand words spoken at regular tempo.

"uh...no...i just wonder why you want to kiss me and play with my hair." i grab his hand and hold it in mine while i hold his face with the other.

well, maybe i do like the chase... a little. but it gets tiring after awhile. sometimes, you just have to be caught...or you just have to know when to give up.

second...
i have really good friends. i have really good family, too. people who care about me and matt. while they all have their own dysfunctions (and lets face it...who doesnt?), they are good people, and i am lucky to have them. and even though things ended with the irish, matt and i were lucky to have him in our lives. he taught us many things, lessons we still carry in our hearts until today.

third...
i struggle to give up diet coke. i can do it for weeks at a time, but there are times when i must have a drink of it. and i acquiesce to a can or two. and the first gulp is like tasting heaven. but the next sips do not taste as well, and i remember why i gave it up in the first place.

this is how i am with sex since i gave it up for my celibacy. the first kiss is wondeful. the first orgasm is mind-blowing. but realizing that i want to make love and not have sex reminds me of why i took the vow in the first place.

fourth...
i love the gym. i hate the gym. i love the adrenaline rush. i hate the soreness. when i dont go for awhile (this time it was 2 weeks), i have to push myself to drive there, hunt for a parking spot, and drag my ass inside. as the familiar scent of the gym hits my nose, i know that i belong there. and although it is a love/hate relationship, i am addicted to it. it is a part of me, and it has saved my life in more ways i can count.

fifth...
i pray that my family have peace, success, love, and happiness. there are some of us in need of some divine intervention, and i hope that their own personal petitions are answered and that they find their way in this world.

my problem

i know why i hitched a ride on the celibacy train. its because for the past year, ive become detached from my lovers. although there have only been four of them the last year, i just feel so damned indifferent to the whole thing. which makes me not enjoy the sex the way i do when i feel a kinship - albeit very temporary and superficial - with someone.

luis was a good time. he was a nice aberration to my otherwise lowkey vacation, and i really like him a lot. being with him again reminds me of simplicity, of relaxation, of ease. but im not going to see him again. it isnt him. its me.

i want to be in a relationship. my problem is that i dont want to be so emotionally distant that i wont recognize someone good, someone right when he comes along.

the last three months of my celibacy teach me something about myself.

ive learned that when i am disconnected from someone, sex is still good.

...and sometimes, when i feel an affinity with someone, sex isnt always good.

...that i dont know how to smoothly go from being in bed with someone to being in my car on my way home.

...that when i have meaningful, overnight sex once, its hard to do it again a second time. forget about a third time.

...that i dont want to be in a relationship - with anyone ive met so far.

...that i am better off alone, even though i crave to meet someone grand, someone delicious, someone who i know i would surrender my heart, soul, and mind to completely and freely.

...that i like luis more in the vertical position than the horizontal position.

...that sex in the afternoon isnt as good as sex in the very early morning or late at night.

...that i love servicing.

...that i like receiving.

...that celibacy is a nice screen to my highly sexual nature.

...that i like the dance of chasing and being chased.

...that im a romantic at heart, but a realist in life.

...that i look at men as friends before i look at them as lovers.

i do not want to be celibate for the rest of my life. heres to hoping that 2006 will bring me love, success, peace, and joy...and lots and lots of shugah.

the innocents

"so, where is your husband?" one aunt asks me.

"he was your husband? i thought he was your boyfriend?" another aunt one grills.

"well, he was my boyfriend, but we broke up a year ago," i clarify.

"broke up? where did he go? back to new york?" yet another one quizzes.

"new york? its cold there now," an uncle pipes in.

"no, hes not in new york, actually. hes married now and living in south dakota last i think, but i havent heard from him in awhile," i patiently disclose.

"what? married? no...he was so nice. and cute."

"south dakota is even colder than new york. what part of new york is he from again?"

"are you sure hes married? how do you know? did he tell you?"

"hes from upstate. and uh...im sure hes married. his wife emailed me. but that was some time ago. and i dont know if he lives in south dakota because we dont keep in touch."

"well, gosh, he was handsome, and we cant believe this."

"uh, thanks, but it ended, and he left, and now im reminded once again that i dont have anyone." this is my dramatic effort to end the conversation about him. i am neither reminded nor do i regret having "no one in my life."

it isnt their fault that they have questions about the irish. theyre innocent of the last two years of my relationship with him because i choose to keep my distance. i havent seen these family members for a year and a half.

im the eldest of 21 or so grandchildren, and i would say the most rebellious. many of the grandchildren are matts age, so they see me as their cool, funny, older cousin. and sometimes, i am. i give gifts that are not clothing; i take them to the mall or the park when it is unbearable to sit around and listen to the grown ups talking; i talk with them about contemporary issues, like boys, girls, movies, makeup, xbox, playstation and the games that go with them; i know the music they listen to, the shows they watch, the slang they use. i encourage them to do what they want as long as no one gets hurt. i am cool, and they think matt is lucky to have me as a mother. he, however, needs more convincing than me being hip.

i remember when these innocents were babies. each and every one of them are so precious to me, as ive seen them age before my eyes. matt is closest to the two that my mother babysat for 5 years. this brother and sister duo suffer from having parents who are the most fucked up people in the family.

tonite, i am simply amazed at how much my babies have grown. they are all so handsome and beautiful. they are all so current with technology, and i worry how myspace might somehow screw up their youth. i check out their myspace pages, of which they are proud of and rightfully so, and i see the revealing photos and i decipher how these kids write to each other. they have clever ways of masking profanity, as well as sexual innuendos, that untrained, unknowing parents do not know. the innocents offer to update my page, and i emphatically refuse. they wonder why, and i just dont have the heart to tell them that i wish myspace would go down in a ball of flames straight to hell and erase their profiles and give them back a technology-free upbringing.

there is nothing wrong with technology, but i keep matt away from the web. am i old-fashioned or retarded to current trends? absolutely not. but i want to protect my 12-year old from the obsessions of emails, instant messages, and the general waste of time of surfing. as it is, i spend so much time in front of this screen that when i watch tv, i feel i need a keyboard in front of me.

dont misunderstand. i thank God for the internet. it has made my life easier, simpler, informative. i have made friends and had lovers because of it. im constantly discovering creative oulets for my restless soul. but it has also made me reluctant to leave the house and go to the library or bookstore because it is easier to find things online. i rely on it for entertainment and information, rather than enjoying the simple pleasure of opening a newspaper, folding it in fourths, and reading outdoors. i have wonderful, unusual conversations with people who live in san diego, arizona, and places in the midwest and new england, which keep me uninterested sometimes in talking to people in "real life" here in la. there are pros and cons to this interweb, but mostly pros.

i find out many things about the innocents through confession and gossip. boob jobs, drinking, smoking, boyfriends, girlfriends, heartbreak, confusion about love, physical abuse, cutting, piercings, extracurricular activities, making out, love marks, chasing, bravery, innocence, and intelligent choices are just some of the things my babies and their friends grapple with daily. i am so proud of their tenacity to persevere and succeed in this society, and i love them as much as i love my own.

although they are all between the ages of 17 through 11, i still see them with missing teeth and chubby cheeks. and my uncles and aunts still see me as the little girl who needs lots of guidance even in my spunkiness, even though ive given birth, entered a masters program, and will turn 37 in february.

my family is a slut for remembering the past. every gathering is a yet another version of the same story told year after year. for this i am grateful.

i fall asleep tonite in the office of my uncles house, waiting for the party to wind down. i hear the girls talk about their friends on myspace and aim. next door, the boys yell at the super smashbrothers on the xbox. these are the sounds of the innocents. and i pray for another year of this melody.

the loophole

he calls me at 12:30 p.m.

"where are you?" he asks.

"im still shopping, but im almost done. where are you?"

"im on my way home. ive fishished."

"damn! i cant believe you beat me."

"yes, i did. well, after all, i AM a guy."

he gives me directions to his place. on the way there, i think about the loophole to my vow. im not really horny for a man because i just purchased a new toy, so i decide to not sleep with him. to do this, we need to be outdoors, in public, because i know i will not be able to resist him.

i get there finally, and i step inside to the familiar scent of pot and coffee. damn, we wont be going out to a nearby cafe. he greets me with a kiss (or do i kiss him first?) and a hug. i sit on the couch and listen to the jazz that he always seems to have on. we talk about movies as he prepares the coffee.

"i thought we were going out for coffee?"

"no, lets stay here. but if you want to, we can sit at my bistro table to create the atmosphere."

"the cafe atmosphere?"

he brings me a cup and takes a seat next to me on the couch. we talk about what hes been up to with his career, about my celibacy, and about curb your enthusiasm.

he offers me a bong hit, and i know immediately that after i take a drag, i will cough hard. this self-fulfilling prophecy takes place. his stuff is strong, organic from humboldt. i feel the effects of the pure ganja as we watch and laugh over the cleverness of curb and the anal retentiveness of its main character.

he tests the waters by sitting close to me and by playing with my hair. he leans in to smell it, and he approves of the scent that he does it again. he takes my hand the way he did the first time we held hands, with only our fingertips touching. then he kisses the inside of my wrist and sucks on the area by my bracelet. he checks to see if i am okay with it.

i like how he slowly seduces me.

"so, why are you celibate?"

"mmm...i dont know. but it doesnt matter because if i sleep with you now, you said it wouldnt count against the vow."

"ah, yes, the loophole. you know, im not celibate, but im not a slut, either. ive had only one since you - has it been 3 months ago?- on and off."

"yeah, it was in september, right? october, november, december. three months. well, i havent had sex since you."

"why is that?"

"because i like to stop at perfection."

his eyes are smiling as he goes in to kiss me. it starts out playfully, then turns passionately. he moves over me and grinds his cock against me. realizing that we should have more than denim against denim, he leads me to the bedroom.

we lie on the bed naked, kissing and exploring. i kiss him goodbye because i wont be up there for while, and i lick my way to his cock. i tease him by kissing the surrounding areas, and when i cant take it anymore, i take him in. he moans as he pushes deeply into my throat. i let my tongue find his balls, his hole, and the area in between. i lick and i suck, and i look at him for confirmation that he is comfortable with this. his eyes are closed, and he looks so peaceful.

when he opens his eyes, he finds me watching him, and he pulls me up to his lips.

"your turn, baby," he tells me.

"not yet. i like my mouth on you."

"but i want to taste you. i love how you taste." i cant debate this argument.

i lean back, and he licks me and sticks a finger in my ass and another in my cunt. i am so lost in what he is doing to me that i cum almost immediately, and i ask to taste me on him. he brings his tongue to meet mine, and i lick and smell what he has done to me. he kisses me so deeply and so sweetly, and i realize that he has been the best kisser ive ever had. its the perfect marriage of tongue and lips and spit.

"see how good you taste, baby?" he asks.

"and how good i smell on you."

when he pulls away, i talk to him about how i really enjoy his ass. he mentions that hes never had that before. i say ive never done that before either and get busy tending to him again.

"baby, turn over on your stomach, and put a pillow under you."

he does as hes told. i take in how smooth and defined his body is. i straddle him, and i kiss the back of his neck, his shoulders, his mouth. he lets out a barely audible moan as i bite my way down his back, but theres no mistaking the sound of pleasure. i bite him tenderly, careful not to leave marks, just in case. i let my breasts fall on his back, against his ass.

i lick his hole, and i reach around to grab his cock. after awhile, he moves away from me and tells me he wants to taste me again.

"but im not finished with you yet," i purr.

"then lets 69. i want to taste you. have you done that before?"

"yes," i laugh. this question seems funny to me somehow. i think he asks because he wants to do something with me that ive never done before. there might be time for that in future meetings.

"lets."

i love his adventurous side. i love how he is open to new things and how he gives in to me. this is why it is so easy to succumb to him.

we try this position for awhile, but i dont like multitasking like this because it confuses my senses to divide between giving and receiving. i dont know which one to enjoy fully, and it is difficult to respond to either. i usually wait the customary time allotment, which by my clock is one orgasm (mine).

he enters me. im tight due to months of no entrance, and my eyes water as he pounds into me deeply. he watches me, and asks if im okay. i insist for more, but he is cautious at the pain he thinks he might be causing.

"im going to go back to sucking your cock now, if thats okay. i want to taste me on you."

"are you sure?"

i suck my cum off of him, and it is sweet and bitter. i bite his inner thighs. i go back to sucking him again, and i take his hand and put it around his cock. i put my hand over his, and i find his hole with my other hand. he works on himself while i lick and finger him. it doesnt take long for him to cum this way, all over his stomach. i love the pearly whiteness of it, and i lie next to him.

"god...that was..." he doesnt finish. i am smiling as i kiss him. he gets up to clean himself. i get dressed and go back to the living room.

"more coffee?" he asks when he joins me.

"yes, please. arent you curious why i called you yesterday?"

"no...but why did you call me yesterday?"

because i need a good fuck, and you provide the best loophole to my vow? because when i meet someone new, i automatically judge the conversation against my conversations with you? because i like you?

i say nothing. he looks at me for an answer, but instead, he notes, "you have a freshly-fucked look."

"i do? how does one look like shes been freshly-fucked?"

"dont know...cant explain it."

"well, there is no one else to blame but you, darlin'." i smile at him. he comes to the couch and sits next to me.

"why am i celibate?"

"i dont know, but youve mentioned it several times today."

"i did? youre right...but i wonder why?"

"thats something you need to figure out for yourself. maybe youre trying to gain something or youre afraid of losing something. when you give up something, its because of fear loss or theres something to gain."

"maybe. hhhhmmm...well...uh...i dont want to be in a relationship. i dont want to get married."

"why not?"

"i dont believe in monogamy."

"then you dont believe in marriage."

"guess not. hey id better go..."

"no, wait, whats on your mind? tell me..."

"nothing...just, you know...its getting later, and you have things to do, and...i dont really know how to leave right or anything...so uh...im going to go..."

"no, its not that late. stay, have more coffee. i was hoping to have you again."

"do you think we should?"

"lets."

he kisses me gently, passionately, and he leads me to the bedroom. i lay him down on his back, and i undress him. i look at him, and he knows what is going to happen.

"here we go," he says with excitement.

i proceed to make him cum the way he did previously by licking and fingering him while he jacks off. when he finishes, i get something to clean off his stomach, his chest, his cock, his hands. i kiss each spot as i wipe it clean. i lay down next to him.

"mmm...time for a nap. you know, i dont usually cum when i get head. in fact, it takes me a long time to cum when im fucking someone. sometimes, i dont cum at all."

"hhhhmmm..." i get up to for fear of falling into that satisfied sleep you have when youve been freshly fucked, and he follows suit.

"you should call me when you want to try something new. or i should call you when i want to experiment."

"okay, you should, and i will. well, thank you. i had a great time, like always."

"yes, it was fun." he walks me to the door.

he hugs me tightly, the way friends hug each other when they wont be seeing each other for a long time. this is unlike the last time, where i was running away with my bra in my hand, and im fumbling the door knob in my haste to escape. this time, i let him hug me, and i let me hug him. we hold each other longer than necessary, but it is nice. and once again, i thank him for finding that loophole.

possibilities

his is the first post i answer on craigslist in september. it was original, creative, sensitive, honest, funny, intelligent. and long. it takes me 2 minutes to read the whole thing, and by the time i finish, i know i have to respond.

my response is short; mostly just to let him know how his writing affects me. he responds in kind, and he asks me one or two questions. we email back and forth short messages, somewhat flirtatious in nature. i give him my number, and he calls me while i am at a meeting. he leaves a message on voice mail, and i put off talking to him until some other day that may never come.

when i get home from my meeting, i email him an apology, and tell him that i am on messenger. it is late at night, and i am on only to check up on a few things. then my a window pops up, and it is him. our fun on messenger is very quick witted, amusing, and it flows unlike any ive ever had (besides roben). it lasts until 3 in the morning.

he invites me to lunch the next day, and i am hesitant. after some convincing, we meet, and the rest is history.

the last time we talk, he tells me of a loophole to my celibacy vow. he says that only new sex will render my vow broken. i tell him he is the last lover i had, and he tells me that if he and i sleep with each other again, i would still be celibate because it isnt new sex.

i call him again yesterday, in a spontaneous act to dull the memory of meeting bob. he calls me this morning, we chit chat, and again, i love the flow of our conversations. i love how funny he is, how he understands my inferences, and how he can play along. he tells me he is free for coffee today at 1. i try to be cool and pretend to check my availability at that time. i nonchalantly accept the invitation.

i am excited at the prospect to see him again, but more to just talk to him. he really awakens some neurons that lay dormant until a person with some quick wit comes along. so far, not many have passed by. i also want to kiss him because, let me tell you, girls, this boy can kiss. but i dont want to sleep with him again.

maybe. thats his favorite word. he says it reminds him of all the possibilities.

please dont feed the bitch in me

i meet bob today. he is tall, old, and really pushy. i regret the whole time i am with him. he talks about how he likes me, how he can imagine making love to me, and how he thinks hes such a great guy. he asks me if i want to sit on his cock, if we could meet on monday or tomorrow even, and if i can see myself with him. i just look at him incredulously and answer his questions as truthfully as i can without being hurtful or mean. he presses me for a commitment to meet again, and i make the silliest excuses that smell so strongly of bullshit. i dont like the cocktail mix of arrogance and desperation. it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. he calls me three times after we part, and i ignore all three calls. get the hint, bob, im done.

fred is a boy who i met through craigslist about six weeks ago. although we have never met in person, we converse almost every day via aim. i forgive his terrible spelling, and he tolerates my evasiveness. he has been asking for a picture, and while i have one, i dont feel at ease sending it to him. the nightly topic of the picture usually lasts 10 to 15 minutes at a time, sometimes - if im lucky - twice a night.

he is normally pleasant to chat with, but tonite, he is annoying. i tell him about my earlier meeting with bob, and how it was a category 7 failure. fred becomes aggressive. says he wants to meet, he wants a picture, he wants to know what i want. i ask him to please do not bring up the picture issue again, and as for what i want? i want him to stop asking for my pics if only for tonite. he takes it as a joke. i warn him to please stop. he mocks this as a meaningless threat. i ask him again to stop pushing me, explain to him why i wont give him a picture, and tell him that if he brings it up again in this conversation, i will put him on ignore. he thinks its just me being me, barking without intending to bite. he brings it up again. i ignore the request. i tell him that i am so bored with this subject, and can we please move on. he assumes hes funny and tells me that i wont be able to stay away from him if i leave, so he cracks a joke about the picture issue. i bid farewell to him and his arrogance and stupidity, and click on block. im done.

i cannot stand being pushed or bullied. it becomes repetetive and boring. when i say no, i mean no. and when i am barraged with questions that i have answered over and over again, i feel a disrespect. with bob, he asks if he could see me again. with fred, its the damned picture.

persistence, in this regard and for others, is an asset; this i recognize. however, with me, it is a nuisance. it is fun at first, but then it stops being funny. i know i am being ridiculous. and i love that freedom to be so.

oh, and thanks to all who have emailed me kind words about my entries or posted a response. its great to know that some are stopping by and checking out the blog. but if you plan to leave a comment that smells of a lecture on any entry, please turn around and march on by. i have a mother, father, sister, brother, friend (who thinks she knows better and her opinions are worth her weight - a year ago - in gold), and countless others who love to take every opportunity to blah blah blah to me about how my life should be. after the loudness of the nothingness of their berating finishes from exiting their mouths, heres what i do. i smile politely, say thank you sincerely, walk away quickly, and laugh my ass off...wickedly.

an open letter

dearest maria,

the past year has opened your eyes to many different things, most importantly to who you are. but the question is, who are you really?

are you the single mother by choice who doesnt want to share the struggles and challenges of raising a child with his useless father?

are you the teacher who is slowly burning out and is becoming more robotic every day with every action that requires you to do what you are there to do -- teach?

are you the daughter and sister who has pretty much excluded family who once was so important to you that you developed anxiety over their welfare?

are you the friend who has dismissed those who have taken enough of your energy and time only to be saddened when the feeling of melancholy washes over you?

are you the student who still needs to pay the fees and fill out the fafsa, or else you wont be able to apply for the next semester?

are you the lover whose heart was broken because you broke your lovers heart?

are you the woman who thinks too much, loves deeply, creates passionately but is too afraid to share with others so you keep them at bay with humor and nonchalance?

are you the catholic sinner saint who longs for forgiveness from god and jesus, but hasnt yet learned to forgive herself?

are you the fuckup who cant keep a house clean, bills organized, read a book from cover to cover?

what is your priority, maria? is it your child? is it school? work?

the problem is that while all things in your life demand your full and complete attention, you dont realize that you neglect the very thing that hold these things together: you. youve neglected yourself. what?, you may ask. how can i do this when i am so selfish of my time and of myself?

yes, you are selfish, but only externally. you choose the greater good, but only in grand sacrifices of yourself. you act with service, only after you suppress your needs. you please everyone, but you arent really satisfied with yourself. how could this be selfish? it isnt. rather, its stupid.

when you look at it from the outside, you seem like a pretty cool person. liked by many, known by few. youre the fun one, the one everyone wants to sit next to, the one who comes out with such wisdom its crazy. women want to be your friend, men want you to be their lover. you are lucky, really. you have a magnetic personality, but you dont believe it. and that is good. in fact, you play it down so much that people have to convince you of it sometimes. your humility is probably your greatest asset.

for someone who embodies the seven deadly sins (except jealousy because youre too vain to be jealous), youre not that bad of a girl. but you need to realize it, believe it, and accept it. dont take my word for it. remember the irish bloke? he tried, girl, he tried to love you unconditionally, but how can you love someone who doesnt love herself? his efforts were in vain. he didnt know it then, but he realized it when it was too late.

what do you want for the upcoming year? you say you want love, but do you know how to love? you want to buy a house, but are you ready to make a commitment? you want to get a better job, but are you able to let go of all of the things you love about the current one? you want to be an artist, but are you willing to risk security and your ego? what do you want? how much do you want it?

you have many things to consider, love. someone once told you to be still and listen to your heart. youve avoided this so many times that it has cost you. its because you fear what you perceive lives there. you fear you will see what others see. you fear that youll see kindness and goodness and purity because for so long youve established that you are unworthy. but that is your problem. no need to punish those who disagree.

many come into your life, but you turn them away. its not a question of control, which was my original suspicion. its a statement of apprehension. if you let them in, youll have to face yourself. and you, my dear, dont want to do that.

you say how much you hate pussies. both the animal and coward types. but you act like a cur. and in this life, especially yours, there is no room for that silliness. so this is what you are going to do. you are going to pull up your boots, and you are going to do something that may seem difficult. you are going to get to know yourself again; this time, as an adult. you are going to love yourself. you are going to find all the answers within you, but you have to remember that you are not alone. you are surrounded by people who love you. dont ask them why they love you, just welcome it. if you have doubts, look at them. they are good people; trust them.

you have weaknesses. but these weaknesses are also your greatest strengths. use them to your advantage. use them for gains, for growth, for experimentation. they define you and strengthen your character. dont fear them. honor them. respect them. trust them.

more importantly, trust yourself. sylvia plath said, the worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. your self-doubt causes you to be common. and you arent. youre a risk taker, daring, bold. which is why it is so difficult to comprehend your trepidation when it comes to certain things. anyway, the challenge for you is to do something about it. to fix it. to amend it. to improve it.

are you ready? this way of living has been taxing for you. and a change for the better would enhance your yearlong transformation. youre not completely converted. youre a work in progress. you will never be done. and that is good.

this is long enough. youre never one for length, though; with you, its the girth that matters. in your search for inspiration, mystery, and faith remember to arm yourself with hope and belief. they will protect you when you feel like turning back.

much love,
maria

married men

ive been talking to two married men lately. im very torn about this. a part of me feels significantly guilty for even entertaining them. it has just been conversations, but they both want to meet me. another part of me craves the safeness and the excitement it offers. its harmless, and i lay down the law that this will go on only if no one gets hurt. especially the innocents.

the problem is that i dont sleep with married men...anymore. i have, in the past, and it leaves me feeling unfulfilled. and the guilt really erases the memories of the sex i had with them. besides, im just not that person anymore. ive evolved to someone who has self-worth and is not afraid to say no.

there are two other married men, though, who i adore and would be tempted to love with abandon. one is a good friend, but i fear sex with him would just be an anti-climactic release of some orgasmic tension. i like him too much, and i dont feel attracted to him in any erotic way. i embrace him into my circle of friends with no hopes or expectations, but with acceptance and an offer of me.

the other is roben. there is something about him that i cannot let go of. and im trying. im trying to ignore when his name lights up on my friends list. i allow myself mini-thoughts of him when i see the folder of our 22 im messages. when i scroll to his name on my phone book, i rest there and wonder if i should call and leave him a message like ive done so many late nights ago. i cannot resist looking at his website, at his picture, and the wonderful images he creates.

its been awhile since he and i spoke. ive tried, but i just dont have it in me anymore. i go to him with hesitance, knowing there had been a breach that cannot be corrected. and he is very sporadic with me, scattered and terse on his end of the conversation. we have talked about meeting, but the tone is that of concession and not of excitement as it once was. thank goodness he has more self-control than me because i would go to him in a second. such is life with this married man. i know i have to end the emotional connection ive created; ive given myself a deadline for december 31st.

blah, boredom, temptations, oh my

i am so down today because of this letter i received yesterday from the district. id rather not go into details, but i tried to fix it this morning, but sadly, i cant. so i must endure the anxiety until tomorrow, when i will try another option. i hope something will work out. it always does, this i am sure.

so. mall yesterday. i am constantly amazed at how many people come out of hiding this time of year. it feels so artificial to be out there amongst the crowds, looking for a gift that is meaningless to the receiver but is priceless to the giver. i hadnt gone to the mall since a month before yesterday, and almost 6 months before that. now i know why i dont go. it is too much effort to be there with people who seem robotic and materialistic.

i "met" this man on sunday. he seems great actually, except for a few problems. first, hes married. second, he cheats a lot, and his wife knows. third, hes very sexual. he knows about my foray into celibacy, and although he is unlike rudy in the sense that he doesnt believe, i think he doesnt really care. the man likes me, i can tell. he is in awe of me, and he finds me sexy. in a way, i am when i talk to him. its all fun. i know eventually he will want to meet, but i know i wouldnt be able to go through with it.

conversation last night with roben was short and confusing. he has an effect on me that i cant shake off. and i want to. but theres something that i cant put a finger on. im in denial, i guess, about his marital status. he reminds me of it, though. i mention that we should just meet and get this over with. i need closure from him. i have this fabulous crush on this man who is so far away, so mysterious. he thinks i am mysterious, but i am not. i would succumb to him, i know. and i think he knows also, so he keeps me at bay.

twice now, two different sets of friends (both sets female) have attempted to discuss my issue of commitment. i dont know what to tell them, except that i am not ready to be in any type of relationship. one friend thinks i will get married by next year. thats funny seeing as i havent even met anyone id like to walk with for a lifetime.

i believe the upcoming year will bring about great things because this year has been a year of growth and transformation. growing pains abound, but i just need to massage the area for it to feel better. i know why i am going through rough patches. it is because i am being molded to be a better person. the one i was before wasnt bad, but the person i am today is much better, calmer, nicer.

a friend said i have an air of sadness today. i do. its not because of the holiday season. its because i have to go inside myself, clean things out, regroup, and recupperate. i do this so i can look around and appreciate what i have. and the only time i have to do this task is when im off for winter break. and yes, i get sad, i get down, i get weepy. but in the very end, after i go through the pain and anxiety and helplessness, i will smile and hope to triumph.

i will always be safe, protected, loved. i will always believe, understand, and pray. i will always be a teacher, a friend, me. i will always be nice, naughty, and everything in between. i will always be creative, different, accepting. and i will always be exactly where i am.

white elephant

another year has come and gone. tonites annual white elephant party is not as wild as those in the past. i smoke way too much when im with roca and her gang from her workplace. they all seem nice, and i kind of wish i were in that atmosphere.

an observation: im wildly attracted to gay boys. not that i would fuck them, but i love watching them move. i love watching their sexiness and how they slink when they walk up to their prey. they are so open with their sexuality, and it turns me on. i have gay friends who are so hot and beautiful. what makes them attractive is their intelligence and the way they look when theyve spotted someone who is a challenge to get into bed.

my celibacy is still in tact. i must admit: i hold on to it now with ferocity because i fear it can slip from my grasp at any moment of weakness. i think i can last until january 2006. no more parties until then, except for one that i dont think will have anyone interesting.

topher grace is hot. i loved him in in good company. hes on right now with laura linney in a movie called ps. i am still stoned, very tired, and not too drunk. i cant wait to have sex again.

this that and the other thing

the conversation last night leaves a few wrinkles in my mind. we talk for 3 hours, getting to know what he does, what i do, who he is, who i am. and although he seems nice and fun and gorgeous, i do not want to see him again.

i dont believe youre celibate, he declares.

why not?

because you seem you enjoy sex too much to be celibate. why ARE you celibate anyway?

why AM i celibate anyway?

at first, the reason was simple. i was invited to a dinner with about 15 people or so. i knew only about 5 of those people, and although im not into large crowds, i decided to go. it had been a week after i slept with luis, and i thought it would be nice to meet new people.

after the customary introductions, a beautiful italian man who was funny and romantic and had the sweetest eyes showered me with attention. he said my name in his accent so many times that night as he looked into my eyes. he was curious, he was intelligent, he was perfect. he was soft spoken, he was caring, he was celibate. this broke my heart; he was celibate because he dedicated his life to God. there was no way i could compete...nor would i want to.

the first person i declared my celibacy to was my friend. his response made me laugh. are you trying to be cool? you think youre better than everyone else? he accused. most of the people ive told, which are my friends and guys who try to get through my chastity belt, didnt believe me. but ive shown them. in the last three months, ive remained true to my vow.

so youre going to be celibate forever? rudy asks.

no, i laugh. its not meant to be a lifelong sentence. im just resting for now.

you never answered my question. why are you celibate?

hhhmmm...dozens of reasons, but only one makes perfect sense that keeps me tied to the vow. when i talk to a boy or a man i am wildly attracted to, i can talk to them without being distracted about how and when we are going to land in his bed. the vow frees me to listen to them and actually get to know them. it allows me the self-control i normally lack when it comes to my sexuality.

why do you ask? wanna be the one to make me break my vow?

yes, of course. i would love to. even though i dont believe you are serious about it.

well, you know, the thing is its not going to happen. but thank you for your offer. unfortunately, at this time, i am unable to accept your generosity. i will keep your number in my phone for a year. if a position opens within that year, itll be yours.

come over right now.

tonite at borders

a beautiful man.

me.

facing each other across the room. my eyes catch his. maybe hes looking at something over my head, but my gaze is unmistakable. i am watching him. i am staring at him. he is a beautiful man.

to the man with the black shirt and soulful eyes - i sincerely apologize for my intrusive stares, but i am trying to place your face. you look familiar, and its maddening that i cant remember from where!

happy holidays,
maria
dec. 16, 2005
borders
california

i walk away to let him absorb what i had written. i avoid looking at him for about 5 minutes, but it is difficult to look away from beauty. then, i walk slowly and deliberately towards him, looking into his eyes as i do. i have a smile on my face that cannot be erased.

hi, im maria, i say.

im rudy.

i try to figure out where ive seen him before. i ask if he comes to borders often, trader joes, target, the rose bowl on tuesday nights. he says he goes to the rose bowl to run.

are you a teacher? i ask.

no, i work from home, he says.

we talk about which college he went to and where i went. i keep the conversation light. easy breezy, lemon squeezy. i cannot look at him for too long. he will make me break my vow.

do you have a pen?

of course, i have a pen. i just wrote you a note. i go and fetch him a pen, thinking how easy it is to get his number. grateful that he doesnt ask for mine. i hate not controlling when i can speak to him again.

he breaks off a piece of the napkin where i wrote my note.

he requests that i read it back at my table. i do as he says. i make my way back slowly. i open the note and read the first line. i fold the note and prepare to leave.

he is watching me as i gather the unread books i collected, my drink, and my belongings. i can see a smile on his face, but i dare not look at him directly. i take my time, but the anxiety of being observed weighs on me. so i rush and drop some things on the floor.

i say goodbye to him, wish him well, and shake his hand. when i get to the parking lot, i open the torn napkin to read his words.

maria,
i give you nothing but the highest of praise for your efforts. i think women with your confidence are truly to be treasured. give me a call any time and we will talk about????

rudy
(xxx)xxx-xxxx

i dont know the protocol for calling. how much time do you wait to seem cool, not too eager or desperate? then i think, fuck it...any time means right now.

i leave a message on his phone. i check my email, i grab a pear, i rearrange my pens. anything to distract me from looking at the clock and waiting. its late, he wont call tonite, this was just a fluke. did it really happen anyway? probably not, but its okay. it was fun, it was daring.

i am tired. i need to go to bed. late night last night, early morning this morning. work is done for 3 weeks, and i can let myself succumb to my fatigue. i will fall asleep tonite with thoughts of his eyes.

then, i hear it. i hear the distinct ring of my phone. and then i hear his voice.

confessions about my friend

1. i want to shroom with my friend, give him head, and then have our friendship restored in the way we left it.
2. when he speaks passionately about something that doesnt make sense to me or when im tired of hearing it, i want to go to him and look into his eyes as i pull him close to my lips.
3. if no one else existed, i would do things w/ my friend that would make him blush if i whispered them in his ear.
4. i hate that im celibate and have lost some of my balls.
5. i hate that hes married and has no balls.
6. there is a comfort i feel when i am with him...and i miss when i am not with him.
7. i look at his arms and wonder how they would feel around me.
8. i genuinely like this person and respect him so much.
9. this like and respect for him keeps me from acting on my physical instincts.
10. but if there was a chance...id take it. immediately.
11. guilt and regret are two things that i fear i will associate with him.
12. i know that i want him, but i dont want him to know.
13. i wonder what i would do if the opportunity presented itself.
14. i actually know what i would do.
15. i would do him.
16. or not.

the last time i had sex

so what book are you reading now? he writes.

ten love poems from the movie il postino by pablo neruda, i reply.

you just went up ten points in my book.

really? you a fan, too?

yes.

so, i was going to ask you if you wanted to watch a movie.

tonite?

no...but in the future. id have to get to know you first.

call me.

of course i dont call him. who is he after all? someone whose post on craigslist i responded to. that doesnt warrant a phone call. the next day, he leaves a message on my voice mail, but being the chicken shit i am, i email him an apology. it was late, he was probably in bed, we can talk soon, sorry i missed your call.

no, im up. call me, he writes.

let me take a shower first, then ill call you. i have no intentions of doing so.

hey, what happened? i thought you were going to call? its okay...lets talk tomorrow. phew!!!

i am perusing through some useless sites when the instant messenger window greets me.

maria?

yes?

its me...luis.

hey, luis. sorry i didnt call you earlier. i thought you had gone to bed.

no, im still up. i just installed this messenger.

three hours of flirtation ensues. no talk of meeting. too soon. no questions of what i look like...or mentions of what he looks like. but it is 3 a.m., time for bed.

lets meet, maria.

okay, luis. good night. take care.

the next day at work, he finds me again on messenger.

lets get lunch, maria. my acting partner bailed on me.

lunch? where???

you name the place. but im scared.

of me? why?

because i like you.

you like me? thats sweet but unnecessary.

i do. i dont know why.

its because you dont know me. when you do, itll be different.

come on, lets get lunch.

i dont know. its too soon to meet, no?

no, come. itll be fun.

an hour later, i am on my way. what is it about this boy that i like? it is easy, its fun, its light. why not? its a beautiful day, and i am wearing a skirt and a tank top. i have reservations, but there is an ease about him.

luis?

hi, maria.

hey, sorry i am late. and sorry for that awful joke.

that was really bad. but i will get you back.

uh-oh. note to self: luis doesnt like jokes.

no, no im just kidding. its all good. but be alert. so want to see my work?

he shows me a montage of his acting clips. one catches my eyes, the one where he is kissing this girl. wow!!!

listen, luis, i was wondering if youd like to see a movie with me? but i want you to know i have to go to a talk tonite by 7. come with me, if you want.

a movie? sure. which?

the one i wanted to see with you...do you remember?

yes, of course. lets watch it.

before we get into your car, should we just get the first kiss over with?

of course. lets.

this boy is a major kisser. we are making out in front of macys, while people pass by. i am wet. i am going to fuck him. we drive to the theatre, the whole drive consisting of small talk.

should we just get a room? i dont think i can concentrate on anything after that kiss out there, i begin.

do you want to? should we just go back to your house?

no, not my house. lets go to yours.

are you serious?

i am...but lets just wach the movie as planned.

we arrive at the theatre, and i kiss him hard when he turns off the engine. i am so lost in his mouth, in his tongue. i do not know who he is, but i like who i am when i am with him. there is no one inside the theatre when we get there. we kiss like mad. when the trailers come on, we try to concentrate on the upcoming movies. none are worth mentioning.

we kiss again. his hand finds my thigh, under my skirt.

are you wearing underwear?

no, i never do.

really?

really. i guide his hands along side my leg, up to my ass. he smiles at the discovery.

i find his cock, hard and full. he leans in kisses my neck and finds my breasts.

maria, lets get out of here.

the movie is about to begin. we cant walk out yet.

its okay. lets go.

no, lets stay.

he leans back, and he holds my hand. i rest my head on his shoulders and trace his arm. he looks down on me and kisses me again.

luis, we have to watch the movie.

youre right. he kisses me harder, hungrier.

i want to fuck you, luis. can i ?

lets go. now.

no, not yet. i really want to watch this movie.

he runs his hand up my thigh, higher this time where he finds my pussy. i shift in my chair to make things easier for him. he fingers my clit, while i suppress my moans.

kiss me, please.

he kisses me, while he pushes his fingers deeper. thank god for the darkness. the only one in there with us was a man sitting a few rows back. he has no clue to what is going on. he probably thinks we are a couple of teenagers, unwelcomed to fuck at our parents house. little does he know.

lets go, maria, please.

i cant. its getting later, and when the movie ends, i have to go to the talk.

was it bullshit when you invited me to go with you?

no. i want you to come. then i want to go back to your place, and i want to cum. would that be okay?

yes. do you want me to go with you?

please come with me.

okay. what are you going to tell them about me?

im going to tell them that you are my friend. they wont ask anymore.

theyre going to ask how we met. what are you going to say?

ill tell them we met in my dreams. dont worry...they wont ask.

the movie is over. im so glad. it is one of the worst ive seen in a long time. luis goes to the bathroom to wash up. although i love the smell of me, i do not want others to smell me on him.

the talk is going well. people come up to me to ask about my friend. i tell them we have been friends forever. they say how smart and funny and very wise he is. sad, i think to myself, that this is the only time they will see him.

we say our goodbyes to the others. we walk to his car.

thank you for coming with me, luis. you were a hit. are you ready to get back to your house?

yes. lead me to the freeway, and i will lead you to my place.

it takes a long 20 minutes. he lets me in, and i am greeted by his beloved dog dexter. cute place. lots of books, eclectic sampling. jazz on the radio he leaves on for dexter and the other two cats. he packs a bong, and we take hits. the stuff is strong, and i am glad. pot makes me so horny. good pot makes me submissive to his wants. he leads me to the bedroom.

fuck me, luis.

not yet, baby. theres no rush. let me taste you.

no. not tonite.

why not?

i dont do that on the first date.

please, let me. you wont be disappointed.

no.

maria, come on.

no, baby. just kiss me, and fuck me. ive waited so long to have you. please...

maria...let me.

no, baby. not tonite.

i cant believe im begging you to let me eat you.

lets just do this.

i raise my hips to meet him. he opens a condom, and i guide him into me. he moves in a rhythm that is perfect. i kiss him as i cum. i pull his head back as i cum again. it is endless. finally, he unloads and lays next to me.

we talk about the night, about kissing, about eating out. i am a little high, and i am still horny. i look into his eyes to remember how he looks, then i kiss him.

you are such a good kisser, he tells me.

so, i was wondering. could you please give me a sample of what you would do to me if your face was between my legs?

he licks my clit, and he slips in three fingers. as i respond to him, he fingerfucks me and licks me furiously. i have never been taken like this before, and i dont imagine i will be again. i cum once, and then again, and yet again. he wants to continue, but i want to taste him now.

i find my way to his cock, and i realize the comfort of belonging there at the moment. i take him in slowly, fully. i let him fuck my mouth deeply, loving the rhythm as he does so. i smell me on him, and on his fingers as he guides my head to his rhythm. he tastes so good. i love giving him head.

i move away from his cock to kiss him. i lay down next to him, and we talk more. he kisses me again, and soon he is entering me.

luis, please. hard.

okay, baby.

i am halfway off the bed. my head is hanging to the side as he fucks me. blood is rushing to my brain, making everything dizzy and thrilling. he makes me cum.

when you are ready, luis, please cum on my body.

he thrusts harder and harder. it hurts, but im not going to interuupt him. i like the pain, and i know i wont be walking comfortably tomorrow. thank god i am taking the day off. he cums on me, my hair, the wall. he says my name as he does so. it sounds so sexy coming from his lips.

he gets up, finds a towel to clean me up. he is so gentle as he wipes my breasts, my neck, and my hair. the air in the room smells like sex. i love our smell. i love his lips.

its getting late, and i have to go, and you have some lines to learn, i tell him.

yes, and im tired.

before i go, will you play a song for me on your guitar?

of course.

he plays three songs. each of them with feeling, and i realize now why he is so good with his fingers. he is amazing. is there nothing he cant do? i am saddened, knowing that i will not return to him again. not in this way.