Archives For May 2013

“Kiss me,” she said as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“What?” he said, as though he was uneasy with the request.

“I said, kiss me. This was a really big moment for me, and you’re ruining it by hesitating. I want a kiss. We can deal with the two of us later. Just kiss me,” she demanded again.

His frown eased into a smile as he quickly leaned down to kiss her. With one hand behind her neck, he pulled her mouth to his. Helping the adrenaline slow in her system, Charlie melted at the touch of his soft lips. Fearing what might happen if she allowed herself to lose herself completely, she pulled away and smiled.

“Thank you. Next time, don’t hesitate.”

He let out a laugh as the doors opened.


            “It’s been a big weekend for you,” Samuel said as Charlie was lighting her cigarette.

“It has,” she paused, thinking of what the scene upstairs must have looked like to him. “I’m so sorry you had to see that up there. I mean, I don’t think I would have been able to go through with it if it wasn’t for you, but there’s just a lot of history there that might have been difficult for you to understand.”

“Because of me? How did I help you get through it?” he said.

She shrugged. “You helped me in a way I don’t think I can ever put into words. Just by being there, you helped me.”

He nodded, pretending he understood. Then he shook his head quickly. “What are we doing, Charlie? I mean, what is going on? I’m a little confused.”

“Okay, so I haven’t done a ton of thinking about this yet. I was trying to get through one thing at a time, and honestly, the Percocet has been messing with my coherency. But, I know we can figure out something.”

He nodded.

“Do you have any ideas?” she said.

“Well, I had one, very flimsy idea, but I hadn’t decided if I wanted to tell you about it.”

“Tell me.”


“No?” she said.

“Nuh uh.”

She laughed, “Tell me.”

“Well, since I just escaped a very long, very shitty relationship, and you initially wanted to take things slow and are obviously going to need some time to heal…” he stopped, taking a deep breath in and exhaling again, “I thought maybe we could just choose a time frame, say two months, before we do anything physical. You know, like, physical.” The pain of that sentence alone left its remnants on his face.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Yeah, see? See why I didn’t want to mention it?”


Floating in the ocean is supposed to be peaceful. Not today. If I pull my head under again, it might just take me this time. God, I wish it would. Here comes another wave. If I’m lucky I won’t see tomorrow. I won’t have to live with the regret and painful nostalgia that comes with sleepless nights and immeasurable days. I can just float, forever, away from this town. Eventually something will kill me. The wave came down, slapping him in the face and his lungs took in an enormous amount of water. I can’t breathe. This is the end.

Jesse woke with the image of a piece of driftwood floating away as he opened his eyes. Eleven months after leaving Minnesota and nothing had changed. The nightmares; some new, some old. The anxiety, paranoia, and depression; always changing and in rapid cycles. It could take minutes or days to switch, without warning.

As Jesse looked around his room, his eyes went straight to the window; ignoring the unpacked boxes in the corner and his drum set that he never assembled. There was still a smoky haze from the night before as a reminder to look beside him to make sure she was gone.

Damn. She’s still here. I obviously didn’t make myself clear enough last night.

Stretching her arms and arching her back, the sheet that had been covering her naked body was freed, exposing her breasts.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” she said yawning. His eyes shifted down to her dark nipples and he looked away.

“Get out,” he said.

She stopped mid-stretch. “Wow. Okay.” Whipping the sheet back and rolling her eyes, she rose and looked around for her clothes. Lying naked in his bed, he kept his focus on the overflowing ashtray on his bedside table. Picking up her scattered clothes from around the room, she began dressing herself.

“Cool ink,” she said, trying to make small talk.

He rolled his eyes and went to light a cigarette.

“Where’d you get the frog?” she asked, tying the laces of her tennis shoes.

“Why are you still here?” he said. He stood to get a clean pair of boxer briefs.

“You’re just delightful,” she huffed. “Fine. I’m ready. You can take me back to my car, it’s parked at the restaurant,” she said, finally taking the hint.

“Not my problem,” he said, pulling his briefs over his hips and running his hand through his hair.

“You’re not even going to give me a ride!…Oh, never mind. I’ll walk. Really, Jesse, it’s been fun. Dickhead,” she said walking toward the door.

As she was about to cross the threshold she turned back to him. “Oh, and my name is Carly, not Charlie, asshole. Next time you take your next victim home, make sure you have her name right. It makes for an awkward fuck.”