Monday, June 04, 2012

Your body is a door

Later I'm playing with my hair, putting it all up in a mess of clips, pulling out my sideburns into messy curls, and then I decide maybe I'll go to GenX. Brenda says if you see my Greek friend Photi with bushy eyebrows and thick black hair, wearing Gaultier, bring him home. Sure enough, there he is on the dance floor with some other Eurotrash and I realize I've seen him before but he’s always with the snottiest fashion tragedies, so I've never said anything, but this time I go right up and say hi, are you Photi? And he gives me that snotty look, but I say I'm Brenda's roommate so he smirks in a kind of friendly way, but just then Divas to the Dancefloor comes on and yes yes yes yes yes – even though no one's there, the music at GenX on a weekday is so much better. And I get pretty much the whole dance floor to give my wildest crazy runway, flipping out into my trademark kick in the air and then fly around in a quick twirl, staring at Urban the whole time, or I mean the whole time I'm looking in that direction like yes, honey, yes, get over here, but he just stands there sipping his cocktail and then when the song fades out I walk over again and he says what are you on?

I'm not on anything, I say. He says do you know where I can get some coke? I wish, I say, and go back to the dance floor. Eventually he joins me: he does the back-and-forth thing pretty well, we’re echoing each other's footsteps but when I try to bring on jump rope he doesn't know what to do exactly so I try moving closer instead and when we take a break I lean over and we start making out and then I say do you want to come home with me? I'm not usually that direct, but the music’s good and Brenda told me to bring him home, right, although she’s asleep when we get back. It's kind of strange with Urban in my bed – he's so big and hairy underneath all that Gaultier but when he hugs me it feels comforting and when I'm sucking his cock I start thinking Daddy for the first time with a boy and it kind of scares me.

But here's the most ridiculous part, I just have to go right there, even though it's a few weeks later, after the time when I try to snort vitamin C and oh my God honey don't ever try that it's like burning out your nostrils – I mean it seemed like a good idea at the time, and then I left some out on my mirror shard with the rest of a ground-up Xanax, and then when I woke up the mirror was cleaned off and there was a note from Brenda saying that I'm a cokehead and she has to move out. What the hell are you talking about, I said – I haven't even done coke since I've been in Providence. And she says you can't lie to me, I found it in the bathroom. I went through this with Krista and I can't go through it again. Krista was Brenda's ex-best friend who got all coked out and lied about everything, but what does this have to do with Krista? I told you I liked drugs right when we met, just couldn't find any in Providence, so why would I lie about this? Brenda says: Photi told me you were high when he met you.

People can be so ridiculous: I thought Brenda and I were actually friends. I put on This Mortal Coil– It’ll End in Tears, right? And then I call JoAnne, who says our relationship can't be the way it used to be, it hurts her too much – she's getting close to a woman for the first time and our connection was fucked up, I say what do you mean? She says at one point each of us was the most important person in the other one’s life and I can't do that now I need space to love women, to feel the fear and progress. But why aren’t you talking to me, I say, just to some abstract category, why are you putting me in that category? And she says: you don't want to care about me too much. How dare you, I say – I'll care about you as much as I want to, how dare you decide you know what's going on in my mind. But then I say: I love you, you're a beautiful person and I respect you for what you're doing – I know you love me, I just wish you didn't hurt me so much but I understand.

JoAnne says thank you, I needed that, but then she starts telling me about speedballs: it's the most amazing feeling all the colors in your head like you're part of the sofa and everything in your body is a door, the lights on and off, on and off and I say that's not a sofa it's a broomstick and she says what – the wicked witch of the West, that's what I say and then we’re finally laughing together even if her voice still sounds hollow in that heroin way and she tells me she's helping some woman Jack to kick, she’ll be shitting and throwing up involuntarily in bed for seven days and I can't even conceptualize that. Please call me, she says, and when I get off the phone I'm drained but also filled with a sense of possibility, although then I'm so wired I have to smoke two cigarettes, take a shower before finishing my stupid papers.

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