Girls in Love: For the Moment (2017)

Photo taken by former lover in 12/2016
Journal entry from 01/2017

He had a sweet and even smile, and two tiny ears that were pronounced like elves’. He had so much life within him. He could talk about nothing despite the fact he knew and had experienced so much. He made casual off-handed mentions of developing an app, living in Germany, traveling every six months, unsure of what it meant to not mix work and pleasure. His cool demeanor about his successes could not be interpreted as anything but the matter of factness of his life. He was a go-getter, humble no matter what he had gone and got.

He was self-aware— knew he had a devilish quality, knew he was charming. It seemed like he knew quite a bit about himself and was willing to divulge nearly every bit of it to you.

We hardly drank but being with him made the air feel like water, easy to push away, up, and out of, but just as easy to be engulfed by - the way one bobs in and out of delightful delirium after the right amount of sips from your favorite drink.

Even when he wasn’t touching me I could feel him. He said speaking to his mother on the phone is often the highlight of his week. How they’d talk for hours.

I told him phone calls made me uncomfortable, that even as someone who has so much to say, it all drains out of my brain from my left ear once I pick up the phone. He said, “Oh no… Well I like talking on the phone…” Before I knew it, his face was adjacent to mine & his breath was in my ear, and he continued “…so you better get used to hearing me like this.” And pulled away.

I would lay on the loveseat in his living room and he would grab me by my hips and pull me towards him. It felt like that with him — a slow pull that I leaned into.

He and I laughed a lot and smiled at each other frequently— while walking from the bar to his apartment a mile away, while eating hot dogs at 1 AM, while rolling around in his white sheets.

I hardly felt worthy of him. The Weeknd’s new album played in the background, making the air feel full and the ambience dream-like. He’d sing 2 or 3 words, sometimes a whole line, in-between kissing me.

Just before he climbed in bed he exclaimed, “It’s time for us to sing.” I don’t know why I found that so funny. I just loved to hear him talk. His words, their timing, and tone unshackled me, filled me with glee, they set me free. In the dark I could catch him looking at me, the whites of his eyes bigger than life. The light from the adjacent room bounced off his cheekbones. His dark skin melting into mine, melting into the night.