Death, the Dreadnought, and the Departure Part Three Mature content No. 42 Published November 12th, 2017 7:22am pst read ( words) Past entries "I left Michelle's apartment in a half-drunken stupor and with a head full of damaging thought processes. My destination was the cave on the coast and the company of the Brunette. I needed to see her and hash out some things. A quick call to her and I felt as if there were no worries. The other side of my head was awash with concern and feelings of loss. A massive hole developed within me and the only thing capable of alleviating it was the goddess I left behind. And that was not going to happen. I stopped off at the market to grab alcohol and then headed up to the cave. My arrival was warmly welcomed and the comfort I felt there prior to the escape began to return. The Brunette was very affectionate and expressed to me her joy in me being there again. Of course, the week before found her tossing me to the curb and delivering my things across the bay, but the time between proved to be therapeutic for both of us. She also sent word to my family that I was out of Vegas and they were overjoyed. The alarmingly quick exit days earlier put everyone on alert that I was not well. That afternoon provided all involved with some relief (except one part of the whole thing). The Brunette and I stayed within the confines of the cave, ordered food, and sat with cigarettes and whiskey. I actually laid out the entire trip leaving no detail hidden and she did not react with rancor. She understood my personality all too well and the idea of seeking comfort was not unheard of. Our reunion went on into the evening, and we ended up on the sofa in front of a few movies. Her affection was very warming and welcoming, and I could not help but wish to be with her all night. No sooner did that thought run across my heart, and she asked if I would stay for a few days to ease the difficulties we had experienced. I agreed, and the night grew even warmer. All the while my thoughts were dashing toward Michelle. We slept, intertwined, and my heart swelled for both women. The Brunette's curves were the stuff of dreams In the morning the Brunette suggested an excursion into the city via the train. That was a routine we exercised quite often throughout the preceding months so I figured it might be a good idea. Getting out of the cave sounded pleasant and relaxing. Our past walking trips in the city had always allowed us to spend time together, yet we drifted from place to place each within our own world in the lenses. Just like that fateful trip to the Salton, every now and then was a little glance toward each other's direction which brought both a warmth we needed. I hoped the day would bring us the same, however later the trip turned directly south toward hell. We cruised up to a lovely bar and restaurant near the station and slid in for some breakfast and drinks. The conversation between us began with my trip to the goblet and furthered into less comfortable territory. She asked of our activities there and I left out no detail. The honesty warmed her and helped her to feel as if there were no barriers between us. She could sense that Michelle's company was therapeutic in many ways, and my running away from everything was a result of a lack of the same. The falling out between the Brunette and I was not pretty, but it was not the end of the world. We both felt the need to spend time apart and let things calm. For me, that meant traveling the hell out for a while and into a place I knew would help. After the short train ride dropped us in the middle of the city's soup, we walked the downtown areas and then made our way toward the water. She wished to head into a small seafood restaurant on one of the piers which had a wondrous view out over the bay. As we sat there, the conversation slowly became more and more flirty, resulting in her desire to leave and be at arm's length for a while. I could not help but agree because I knew of her ways and I wanted to avoid us getting too close within a public place. Oy. Again we took to the street and out of the blue she asked of my physical attraction toward Michelle. I replied with everything I had felt for that goddess and none of it seemed to upset her, although the words emanating from her began to slow. I could feel that she was analyzing everything I said, but deep down I knew that she was still the open and understanding woman from whom I ran away. The Brunette informed me that she had felt Michelle was a deep need of mine and the fact that we had connected brought her as much comfort as it did trepidation. She trusted me, completely, and her mind was open to possibilities -- good or bad, pleasant or otherwise. Time would tell of the consequences. Her dark hair contrasted olive skin We ventured around the waterfront, cameras in tow, and again wound up in a seafood spot not far from the first. We enjoyed some dessert and watched others walk by from the window. I could see that she was tipsy but because we were both that way (and daily), no worry entered my head. The drinks continued to flow through me, as well. That meant that any criticism of myself would amplify along with my compassion for the wonderful soul next to me. I could feel the negativity within me beginning to boil, and the fear mounted. On the walk back toward the train station, I started to become upset for leaving her in the first place. The more I looked over at her and those sensitive eyes, the more guilt flowed into my heart. I asked for her feelings at the time and she simply smiled. And then I fell through the floor into a pit of disgust. Her face was soft, her expression was that of comfort and satisfaction, but my remorse over spending such time and sharing my heart with Michelle took over everything. I became red inside and I could not stop it. The Brunette and I paused on a bench for a cigarette, and by that point -- just minutes after it began, my guilt pushed me into very damaging and suicidal territory. I stood and removed my backpack, took my phone and wallet out and placed them inside the pockets, and told her to keep everything. She appeared startled, and pressed me for what I was doing. I told her I loved her but was incapable of remaining stable, and that she would be much better off without me. As I quickly stepped away, she tried to follow but I instructed her that I was helping everyone. She stopped in her tracks, began to openly weep, and then sat on the ground. I gave her one last glance back to be sure she was falling behind, and ran away toward the piers. I swore to myself that I was doing the right thing, and her life would be improved without the issues I so often caused. Ok. Deep breath. I ended up only a block away before needing to stop running and cease that thought process. I immediately worried for her having to deal with the implications which I dropped upon her. And then I worsened due to more guilt over stating my intentions and walking away from her. My heart fell and the impulse to drop my sorry life into the cold water became amplified, but I could not move. The swirling thoughts in my head were out of control and I suddenly did not know which way to turn. Michelle floated into me, as did the idea of what may take place moments after a plunge. My family... The Brunette being left there as the only person to see what happened... The people nearby and their happiness... The lights which were beginning to look haloed... Everything all at once and out of my control. I wanted to die, live, go back in time... Anything but that very moment. Things were spinning, diving -- the water was calling. My eyes darted about in search of some miracle which could deliver me from that incredible hell. As I stood there I became paralyzed for moments, and the street next to me began to look inviting with its endless parade of vehicles speeding by. My body started to twitch in the direction of the traffic, as if I was trying to decide whether to dash in front of a car or stand my ground and attempt to calm my impulse. Back and forth and back and forth -- death and sleep, walking or diving, living or dying. Every passing car was a possibility, and every second not darting into traffic was another possibility. What to do? The planet felt as if it was spinning fast enough for me to just fly off the surface and ignite in the atmosphere. Live on and suffer, or die and be done with it? I then turned toward my previous path and spotted the Brunette standing at the corner of a building, staring at me and crying. Everything flipped right-side-up and I ran back to her instantly. She was so beautiful, and with features I could not resist She quickly grabbed me and squeezed like never before. Her tears soaked the shoulder of my jacket and her grip would not cease. All at once I wished to be away from that place and in her arms forever. We stood there for what seemed a million years and then moved to a bench. She finally let go of me (mostly), handed me my things, and looked upon me as if to say that I was no longer allowed to go anywhere alone. My pain began to subside and my head was able to clearly process what I then had to do. And that was to return to her cave and apologize for the rest of my life. Minutes later we resumed our walking and made a beeline for the train station. By that point in the evening my brain was turning to thick clay and the simplest of tasks became overwhelming -- like placing my ticket into the turnstile. I was barely there. She helped and made certain to maintain contact with me physically. Every single time I looked at her face I saw deep sympathy and appreciation in her big, beautiful eyes. That alone could have kept me from the water. Her facial expressions were calming like nothing else on earth, and during those moments I needed nothing more. We boarded the train -- standing room only, naturally -- and stayed near the doors. She never looked away from me for the entire ride. And she was showing affection like I did not expect. All of that allowed me to relax more and I began to feel as if my episode was not so alien to her. I knew of all that woman went through due to the guilt of what brought her to the coast. She left nothing out, ever. So, the ride ended up being quite a help for both of us. Her appreciation for my being there beside her was wonderful, and the simplicity of holding her hand became the entire universe. We arrived back at the cave and dropped everything. She turned to me, again teary-eyed, and told me she loved me and that would never stop. The hug which followed must have lasted ten minutes or more. And then she asked if I was hungry. Huh? Are you kidding? The funny thing is, I was a bit hungry, so she prepared a snack and poured us each a beer. Very nice, although the hurricane in my head still had some residual power over me. I did my best to keep it at bay, and her loving company certainly helped. She had a way of making everything bad just go away when she looked at me with her heart. Every second that disappeared brought me closer to the person I was before jumping ship in the middle of the city. Her demeanor was wonderful, and the evening was smoothing out. My heart swelled and I wanted nothing else but to be near her. The first woman to be my model A few hours into our being back in the cave and the conversation had become much more composed and soothing for both of us. We had our snack, a few drinks, and relocated to the bed. She expressed her fears to me and I could not avoid understanding. We were so similar that at times nothing could keep us from exploding. Along those lines, said similarities brought us to the peak of love and passion. The in-between areas were seldom explored because each personality toggled repeatedly between the flame and the freezing. The up was way the fuck up, but that meant that the down was equally superlative. It was the bottom. While relaxing with some quiet music, and deep into all of the staring at each other, the Brunette stated that she needed a few minutes alone. I told her I would sit tight. Some minutes later she emerged from the bathroom clad in a bodystocking, lingerie, and heels. I almost shit myself with surprise, and no sooner did I attempt to take in such a fantastic sight and she hugged me deeply. She then took my face in her warm hands and expressed her love for me and planted her lips to mine. Jesus fucking hell that was unexpected and so beautiful that my mind went away completely. All I could think of was being with her and enjoying all that she wanted. She slowly slid to the floor as I grabbed at my camera. The sight of her on all fours was enough to force the memory of how to operate the Nikon completely from my head, so I dropped it on the bed and watched her crawl. Gawd. Her curves became exaggerated to the point of looking as if she could fold in half easily. The press of her upper thighs allowed me to paint a mental picture of the numbers all over her. I did not have anything with me to wrap around her loveliness, so I simply sat there, flabbergasted at the beauty in front of me. Her eyes were that of both predator and prey. And those oversize breasts looked as if they would crush me without mercy. And I was happy to let it happen. There was absolutely no resisting any of her. I could not think clearly, and when we touched my brain went into a tailspin which led me to diving in completely. The Brunette was the most sexual woman I had ever encountered and was willing to be a fantasy of any type. And she desired me to the same extent. Within a few minutes her apartment went from a living space to a dynamic and loving retreat outside of which existed nothing at all. She took me from myself and there was to be no return. The entirety of what took place after arriving back at her home that evening -- beauty, physicality, alcohol, gazing and caressing -- took me over completely, and provided the first occasion when Michelle melted away for a time. The idea and difficulty inherent in that taking place was only realized hours later as we continued to hold hands on the sofa. And it sunk in regardless of the comfort and security I was feeling in the arms of the Brunette. I could not help it -- Michelle was wonderful and I just fucking needed her. I also needed to be where I was at that moment. I needed everything and both of them. Jesus. Which way to go, and where to be? There next to me, dozing off, the Brunette looked beautiful beyond words. And I was seeing all the way through to her soul. I felt that she had saved me. Or, to be more pointed, the connection between us and the understanding I knew she held had saved me. It probably saved both of us on more than one occasion. The ridiculous part of all of it was that we also sent each other spiraling down into a pit of despair with drunken suicidal thoughts. We had already been through many moments in which neither was seemingly inconsolable. But we always rose from the shit, somehow. The Brunette would wear anything I wished And considering all that had taken place throughout my visit to the cave, I needed to be near Michelle like never before. I longed for her eyes and embrace. The Brunette had carried me quite literally from the draw of death, yet I knew that over time we would drive each other right back there with all severity. We had done it, and we would do it again and again. I loved her and she felt the same. Still, the knowing was tearing me up like tissue in hard water. And all of the pieces -- however endearing and emotional -- would come together only temporarily. I felt it to the center of myself. There was no exit from that road. The Brunette and I would destroy each other, sooner or later. Every thought became as the ball in a tennis match. Back and forth over and over I knew it would be bliss and then damage... joy then fear. At any given time I could drive her to the bottom, or she could do the same to me. We just did not mix, and there could be no balanced end. The morning arrived with her up against me in all her beauty. I rose and showered while she slept. Coffee, the balcony, the quiet, and the knowing -- one after the other -- pushed for me to leave. All of that despite the love and unending loveliness that was us. We were beautiful and on top of everything in the world. It was all ours in the beginning, but later times brought us to defeat. I could not help but look at her through the window and cry into my coffee. Sadness. She awoke to my absence and immediately called me. I told her I was down at the market and would return shortly. And I did, to find her still lying there and writing in her journal. I could not imagine what that entry could have entailed, but suffice to say I also knew. Her tussled hair and disheveled look was super cute. When our eyes met again, I could see she was drawing the same conclusion as I did just a while earlier. My sadness returned, she began to cry, and then she whispered to me... 'Be well, and I love you.' My eyesight blurred with tears as I turned and walked out the door." Copyright ©2002-2025 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Death, the Dreadnought, and the Departure Part Three Mature content No. 42 Published November 12th, 2017 7:22am pst read ( words) Past entries "I left Michelle's apartment in a half-drunken stupor and with a head full of damaging thought processes. My destination was the cave on the coast and the company of the Brunette. I needed to see her and hash out some things. A quick call to her and I felt as if there were no worries. The other side of my head was awash with concern and feelings of loss. A massive hole developed within me and the only thing capable of alleviating it was the goddess I left behind. And that was not going to happen. I stopped off at the market to grab alcohol and then headed up to the cave. My arrival was warmly welcomed and the comfort I felt there prior to the escape began to return. The Brunette was very affectionate and expressed to me her joy in me being there again. Of course, the week before found her tossing me to the curb and delivering my things across the bay, but the time between proved to be therapeutic for both of us. She also sent word to my family that I was out of Vegas and they were overjoyed. The alarmingly quick exit days earlier put everyone on alert that I was not well. That afternoon provided all involved with some relief (except one part of the whole thing). The Brunette and I stayed within the confines of the cave, ordered food, and sat with cigarettes and whiskey. I actually laid out the entire trip leaving no detail hidden and she did not react with rancor. She understood my personality all too well and the idea of seeking comfort was not unheard of. Our reunion went on into the evening, and we ended up on the sofa in front of a few movies. Her affection was very warming and welcoming, and I could not help but wish to be with her all night. No sooner did that thought run across my heart, and she asked if I would stay for a few days to ease the difficulties we had experienced. I agreed, and the night grew even warmer. All the while my thoughts were dashing toward Michelle. We slept, intertwined, and my heart swelled for both women. The Brunette's curves were the stuff of dreams In the morning the Brunette suggested an excursion into the city via the train. That was a routine we exercised quite often throughout the preceding months so I figured it might be a good idea. Getting out of the cave sounded pleasant and relaxing. Our past walking trips in the city had always allowed us to spend time together, yet we drifted from place to place each within our own world in the lenses. Just like that fateful trip to the Salton, every now and then was a little glance toward each other's direction which brought both a warmth we needed. I hoped the day would bring us the same, however later the trip turned directly south toward hell. We cruised up to a lovely bar and restaurant near the station and slid in for some breakfast and drinks. The conversation between us began with my trip to the goblet and furthered into less comfortable territory. She asked of our activities there and I left out no detail. The honesty warmed her and helped her to feel as if there were no barriers between us. She could sense that Michelle's company was therapeutic in many ways, and my running away from everything was a result of a lack of the same. The falling out between the Brunette and I was not pretty, but it was not the end of the world. We both felt the need to spend time apart and let things calm. For me, that meant traveling the hell out for a while and into a place I knew would help. After the short train ride dropped us in the middle of the city's soup, we walked the downtown areas and then made our way toward the water. She wished to head into a small seafood restaurant on one of the piers which had a wondrous view out over the bay. As we sat there, the conversation slowly became more and more flirty, resulting in her desire to leave and be at arm's length for a while. I could not help but agree because I knew of her ways and I wanted to avoid us getting too close within a public place. Oy. Again we took to the street and out of the blue she asked of my physical attraction toward Michelle. I replied with everything I had felt for that goddess and none of it seemed to upset her, although the words emanating from her began to slow. I could feel that she was analyzing everything I said, but deep down I knew that she was still the open and understanding woman from whom I ran away. The Brunette informed me that she had felt Michelle was a deep need of mine and the fact that we had connected brought her as much comfort as it did trepidation. She trusted me, completely, and her mind was open to possibilities -- good or bad, pleasant or otherwise. Time would tell of the consequences. Her dark hair contrasted olive skin We ventured around the waterfront, cameras in tow, and again wound up in a seafood spot not far from the first. We enjoyed some dessert and watched others walk by from the window. I could see that she was tipsy but because we were both that way (and daily), no worry entered my head. The drinks continued to flow through me, as well. That meant that any criticism of myself would amplify along with my compassion for the wonderful soul next to me. I could feel the negativity within me beginning to boil, and the fear mounted. On the walk back toward the train station, I started to become upset for leaving her in the first place. The more I looked over at her and those sensitive eyes, the more guilt flowed into my heart. I asked for her feelings at the time and she simply smiled. And then I fell through the floor into a pit of disgust. Her face was soft, her expression was that of comfort and satisfaction, but my remorse over spending such time and sharing my heart with Michelle took over everything. I became red inside and I could not stop it. The Brunette and I paused on a bench for a cigarette, and by that point -- just minutes after it began, my guilt pushed me into very damaging and suicidal territory. I stood and removed my backpack, took my phone and wallet out and placed them inside the pockets, and told her to keep everything. She appeared startled, and pressed me for what I was doing. I told her I loved her but was incapable of remaining stable, and that she would be much better off without me. As I quickly stepped away, she tried to follow but I instructed her that I was helping everyone. She stopped in her tracks, began to openly weep, and then sat on the ground. I gave her one last glance back to be sure she was falling behind, and ran away toward the piers. I swore to myself that I was doing the right thing, and her life would be improved without the issues I so often caused. Ok. Deep breath. I ended up only a block away before needing to stop running and cease that thought process. I immediately worried for her having to deal with the implications which I dropped upon her. And then I worsened due to more guilt over stating my intentions and walking away from her. My heart fell and the impulse to drop my sorry life into the cold water became amplified, but I could not move. The swirling thoughts in my head were out of control and I suddenly did not know which way to turn. Michelle floated into me, as did the idea of what may take place moments after a plunge. My family... The Brunette being left there as the only person to see what happened... The people nearby and their happiness... The lights which were beginning to look haloed... Everything all at once and out of my control. I wanted to die, live, go back in time... Anything but that very moment. Things were spinning, diving -- the water was calling. My eyes darted about in search of some miracle which could deliver me from that incredible hell. As I stood there I became paralyzed for moments, and the street next to me began to look inviting with its endless parade of vehicles speeding by. My body started to twitch in the direction of the traffic, as if I was trying to decide whether to dash in front of a car or stand my ground and attempt to calm my impulse. Back and forth and back and forth -- death and sleep, walking or diving, living or dying. Every passing car was a possibility, and every second not darting into traffic was another possibility. What to do? The planet felt as if it was spinning fast enough for me to just fly off the surface and ignite in the atmosphere. Live on and suffer, or die and be done with it? I then turned toward my previous path and spotted the Brunette standing at the corner of a building, staring at me and crying. Everything flipped right-side-up and I ran back to her instantly. She was so beautiful, and with features I could not resist She quickly grabbed me and squeezed like never before. Her tears soaked the shoulder of my jacket and her grip would not cease. All at once I wished to be away from that place and in her arms forever. We stood there for what seemed a million years and then moved to a bench. She finally let go of me (mostly), handed me my things, and looked upon me as if to say that I was no longer allowed to go anywhere alone. My pain began to subside and my head was able to clearly process what I then had to do. And that was to return to her cave and apologize for the rest of my life. Minutes later we resumed our walking and made a beeline for the train station. By that point in the evening my brain was turning to thick clay and the simplest of tasks became overwhelming -- like placing my ticket into the turnstile. I was barely there. She helped and made certain to maintain contact with me physically. Every single time I looked at her face I saw deep sympathy and appreciation in her big, beautiful eyes. That alone could have kept me from the water. Her facial expressions were calming like nothing else on earth, and during those moments I needed nothing more. We boarded the train -- standing room only, naturally -- and stayed near the doors. She never looked away from me for the entire ride. And she was showing affection like I did not expect. All of that allowed me to relax more and I began to feel as if my episode was not so alien to her. I knew of all that woman went through due to the guilt of what brought her to the coast. She left nothing out, ever. So, the ride ended up being quite a help for both of us. Her appreciation for my being there beside her was wonderful, and the simplicity of holding her hand became the entire universe. We arrived back at the cave and dropped everything. She turned to me, again teary-eyed, and told me she loved me and that would never stop. The hug which followed must have lasted ten minutes or more. And then she asked if I was hungry. Huh? Are you kidding? The funny thing is, I was a bit hungry, so she prepared a snack and poured us each a beer. Very nice, although the hurricane in my head still had some residual power over me. I did my best to keep it at bay, and her loving company certainly helped. She had a way of making everything bad just go away when she looked at me with her heart. Every second that disappeared brought me closer to the person I was before jumping ship in the middle of the city. Her demeanor was wonderful, and the evening was smoothing out. My heart swelled and I wanted nothing else but to be near her. The first woman to be my model A few hours into our being back in the cave and the conversation had become much more composed and soothing for both of us. We had our snack, a few drinks, and relocated to the bed. She expressed her fears to me and I could not avoid understanding. We were so similar that at times nothing could keep us from exploding. Along those lines, said similarities brought us to the peak of love and passion. The in-between areas were seldom explored because each personality toggled repeatedly between the flame and the freezing. The up was way the fuck up, but that meant that the down was equally superlative. It was the bottom. While relaxing with some quiet music, and deep into all of the staring at each other, the Brunette stated that she needed a few minutes alone. I told her I would sit tight. Some minutes later she emerged from the bathroom clad in a bodystocking, lingerie, and heels. I almost shit myself with surprise, and no sooner did I attempt to take in such a fantastic sight and she hugged me deeply. She then took my face in her warm hands and expressed her love for me and planted her lips to mine. Jesus fucking hell that was unexpected and so beautiful that my mind went away completely. All I could think of was being with her and enjoying all that she wanted. She slowly slid to the floor as I grabbed at my camera. The sight of her on all fours was enough to force the memory of how to operate the Nikon completely from my head, so I dropped it on the bed and watched her crawl. Gawd. Her curves became exaggerated to the point of looking as if she could fold in half easily. The press of her upper thighs allowed me to paint a mental picture of the numbers all over her. I did not have anything with me to wrap around her loveliness, so I simply sat there, flabbergasted at the beauty in front of me. Her eyes were that of both predator and prey. And those oversize breasts looked as if they would crush me without mercy. And I was happy to let it happen. There was absolutely no resisting any of her. I could not think clearly, and when we touched my brain went into a tailspin which led me to diving in completely. The Brunette was the most sexual woman I had ever encountered and was willing to be a fantasy of any type. And she desired me to the same extent. Within a few minutes her apartment went from a living space to a dynamic and loving retreat outside of which existed nothing at all. She took me from myself and there was to be no return. The entirety of what took place after arriving back at her home that evening -- beauty, physicality, alcohol, gazing and caressing -- took me over completely, and provided the first occasion when Michelle melted away for a time. The idea and difficulty inherent in that taking place was only realized hours later as we continued to hold hands on the sofa. And it sunk in regardless of the comfort and security I was feeling in the arms of the Brunette. I could not help it -- Michelle was wonderful and I just fucking needed her. I also needed to be where I was at that moment. I needed everything and both of them. Jesus. Which way to go, and where to be? There next to me, dozing off, the Brunette looked beautiful beyond words. And I was seeing all the way through to her soul. I felt that she had saved me. Or, to be more pointed, the connection between us and the understanding I knew she held had saved me. It probably saved both of us on more than one occasion. The ridiculous part of all of it was that we also sent each other spiraling down into a pit of despair with drunken suicidal thoughts. We had already been through many moments in which neither was seemingly inconsolable. But we always rose from the shit, somehow. The Brunette would wear anything I wished And considering all that had taken place throughout my visit to the cave, I needed to be near Michelle like never before. I longed for her eyes and embrace. The Brunette had carried me quite literally from the draw of death, yet I knew that over time we would drive each other right back there with all severity. We had done it, and we would do it again and again. I loved her and she felt the same. Still, the knowing was tearing me up like tissue in hard water. And all of the pieces -- however endearing and emotional -- would come together only temporarily. I felt it to the center of myself. There was no exit from that road. The Brunette and I would destroy each other, sooner or later. Every thought became as the ball in a tennis match. Back and forth over and over I knew it would be bliss and then damage... joy then fear. At any given time I could drive her to the bottom, or she could do the same to me. We just did not mix, and there could be no balanced end. The morning arrived with her up against me in all her beauty. I rose and showered while she slept. Coffee, the balcony, the quiet, and the knowing -- one after the other -- pushed for me to leave. All of that despite the love and unending loveliness that was us. We were beautiful and on top of everything in the world. It was all ours in the beginning, but later times brought us to defeat. I could not help but look at her through the window and cry into my coffee. Sadness. She awoke to my absence and immediately called me. I told her I was down at the market and would return shortly. And I did, to find her still lying there and writing in her journal. I could not imagine what that entry could have entailed, but suffice to say I also knew. Her tussled hair and disheveled look was super cute. When our eyes met again, I could see she was drawing the same conclusion as I did just a while earlier. My sadness returned, she began to cry, and then she whispered to me... 'Be well, and I love you.' My eyesight blurred with tears as I turned and walked out the door."
Death, the Dreadnought, and the Departure
Part Three
Mature content No. 42 Published November 12th, 2017 7:22am pst read ( words) Past entries
"I left Michelle's apartment in a half-drunken stupor and with a head full of damaging thought processes. My destination was the cave on the coast and the company of the Brunette. I needed to see her and hash out some things. A quick call to her and I felt as if there were no worries. The other side of my head was awash with concern and feelings of loss. A massive hole developed within me and the only thing capable of alleviating it was the goddess I left behind. And that was not going to happen. I stopped off at the market to grab alcohol and then headed up to the cave. My arrival was warmly welcomed and the comfort I felt there prior to the escape began to return. The Brunette was very affectionate and expressed to me her joy in me being there again. Of course, the week before found her tossing me to the curb and delivering my things across the bay, but the time between proved to be therapeutic for both of us. She also sent word to my family that I was out of Vegas and they were overjoyed. The alarmingly quick exit days earlier put everyone on alert that I was not well. That afternoon provided all involved with some relief (except one part of the whole thing). The Brunette and I stayed within the confines of the cave, ordered food, and sat with cigarettes and whiskey. I actually laid out the entire trip leaving no detail hidden and she did not react with rancor. She understood my personality all too well and the idea of seeking comfort was not unheard of. Our reunion went on into the evening, and we ended up on the sofa in front of a few movies. Her affection was very warming and welcoming, and I could not help but wish to be with her all night. No sooner did that thought run across my heart, and she asked if I would stay for a few days to ease the difficulties we had experienced. I agreed, and the night grew even warmer. All the while my thoughts were dashing toward Michelle. We slept, intertwined, and my heart swelled for both women.
The Brunette's curves were the stuff of dreams
In the morning the Brunette suggested an excursion into the city via the train. That was a routine we exercised quite often throughout the preceding months so I figured it might be a good idea. Getting out of the cave sounded pleasant and relaxing. Our past walking trips in the city had always allowed us to spend time together, yet we drifted from place to place each within our own world in the lenses. Just like that fateful trip to the Salton, every now and then was a little glance toward each other's direction which brought both a warmth we needed. I hoped the day would bring us the same, however later the trip turned directly south toward hell. We cruised up to a lovely bar and restaurant near the station and slid in for some breakfast and drinks. The conversation between us began with my trip to the goblet and furthered into less comfortable territory. She asked of our activities there and I left out no detail. The honesty warmed her and helped her to feel as if there were no barriers between us. She could sense that Michelle's company was therapeutic in many ways, and my running away from everything was a result of a lack of the same. The falling out between the Brunette and I was not pretty, but it was not the end of the world. We both felt the need to spend time apart and let things calm. For me, that meant traveling the hell out for a while and into a place I knew would help. After the short train ride dropped us in the middle of the city's soup, we walked the downtown areas and then made our way toward the water. She wished to head into a small seafood restaurant on one of the piers which had a wondrous view out over the bay. As we sat there, the conversation slowly became more and more flirty, resulting in her desire to leave and be at arm's length for a while. I could not help but agree because I knew of her ways and I wanted to avoid us getting too close within a public place. Oy. Again we took to the street and out of the blue she asked of my physical attraction toward Michelle. I replied with everything I had felt for that goddess and none of it seemed to upset her, although the words emanating from her began to slow. I could feel that she was analyzing everything I said, but deep down I knew that she was still the open and understanding woman from whom I ran away. The Brunette informed me that she had felt Michelle was a deep need of mine and the fact that we had connected brought her as much comfort as it did trepidation. She trusted me, completely, and her mind was open to possibilities -- good or bad, pleasant or otherwise. Time would tell of the consequences.
Her dark hair contrasted olive skin
We ventured around the waterfront, cameras in tow, and again wound up in a seafood spot not far from the first. We enjoyed some dessert and watched others walk by from the window. I could see that she was tipsy but because we were both that way (and daily), no worry entered my head. The drinks continued to flow through me, as well. That meant that any criticism of myself would amplify along with my compassion for the wonderful soul next to me. I could feel the negativity within me beginning to boil, and the fear mounted. On the walk back toward the train station, I started to become upset for leaving her in the first place. The more I looked over at her and those sensitive eyes, the more guilt flowed into my heart. I asked for her feelings at the time and she simply smiled. And then I fell through the floor into a pit of disgust. Her face was soft, her expression was that of comfort and satisfaction, but my remorse over spending such time and sharing my heart with Michelle took over everything. I became red inside and I could not stop it. The Brunette and I paused on a bench for a cigarette, and by that point -- just minutes after it began, my guilt pushed me into very damaging and suicidal territory. I stood and removed my backpack, took my phone and wallet out and placed them inside the pockets, and told her to keep everything. She appeared startled, and pressed me for what I was doing. I told her I loved her but was incapable of remaining stable, and that she would be much better off without me. As I quickly stepped away, she tried to follow but I instructed her that I was helping everyone. She stopped in her tracks, began to openly weep, and then sat on the ground. I gave her one last glance back to be sure she was falling behind, and ran away toward the piers. I swore to myself that I was doing the right thing, and her life would be improved without the issues I so often caused. Ok. Deep breath. I ended up only a block away before needing to stop running and cease that thought process. I immediately worried for her having to deal with the implications which I dropped upon her. And then I worsened due to more guilt over stating my intentions and walking away from her. My heart fell and the impulse to drop my sorry life into the cold water became amplified, but I could not move. The swirling thoughts in my head were out of control and I suddenly did not know which way to turn. Michelle floated into me, as did the idea of what may take place moments after a plunge. My family... The Brunette being left there as the only person to see what happened... The people nearby and their happiness... The lights which were beginning to look haloed... Everything all at once and out of my control. I wanted to die, live, go back in time... Anything but that very moment. Things were spinning, diving -- the water was calling. My eyes darted about in search of some miracle which could deliver me from that incredible hell. As I stood there I became paralyzed for moments, and the street next to me began to look inviting with its endless parade of vehicles speeding by. My body started to twitch in the direction of the traffic, as if I was trying to decide whether to dash in front of a car or stand my ground and attempt to calm my impulse. Back and forth and back and forth -- death and sleep, walking or diving, living or dying. Every passing car was a possibility, and every second not darting into traffic was another possibility. What to do? The planet felt as if it was spinning fast enough for me to just fly off the surface and ignite in the atmosphere. Live on and suffer, or die and be done with it? I then turned toward my previous path and spotted the Brunette standing at the corner of a building, staring at me and crying. Everything flipped right-side-up and I ran back to her instantly.
She was so beautiful, and with features I could not resist
She quickly grabbed me and squeezed like never before. Her tears soaked the shoulder of my jacket and her grip would not cease. All at once I wished to be away from that place and in her arms forever. We stood there for what seemed a million years and then moved to a bench. She finally let go of me (mostly), handed me my things, and looked upon me as if to say that I was no longer allowed to go anywhere alone. My pain began to subside and my head was able to clearly process what I then had to do. And that was to return to her cave and apologize for the rest of my life. Minutes later we resumed our walking and made a beeline for the train station. By that point in the evening my brain was turning to thick clay and the simplest of tasks became overwhelming -- like placing my ticket into the turnstile. I was barely there. She helped and made certain to maintain contact with me physically. Every single time I looked at her face I saw deep sympathy and appreciation in her big, beautiful eyes. That alone could have kept me from the water. Her facial expressions were calming like nothing else on earth, and during those moments I needed nothing more. We boarded the train -- standing room only, naturally -- and stayed near the doors. She never looked away from me for the entire ride. And she was showing affection like I did not expect. All of that allowed me to relax more and I began to feel as if my episode was not so alien to her. I knew of all that woman went through due to the guilt of what brought her to the coast. She left nothing out, ever. So, the ride ended up being quite a help for both of us. Her appreciation for my being there beside her was wonderful, and the simplicity of holding her hand became the entire universe. We arrived back at the cave and dropped everything. She turned to me, again teary-eyed, and told me she loved me and that would never stop. The hug which followed must have lasted ten minutes or more. And then she asked if I was hungry. Huh? Are you kidding? The funny thing is, I was a bit hungry, so she prepared a snack and poured us each a beer. Very nice, although the hurricane in my head still had some residual power over me. I did my best to keep it at bay, and her loving company certainly helped. She had a way of making everything bad just go away when she looked at me with her heart. Every second that disappeared brought me closer to the person I was before jumping ship in the middle of the city. Her demeanor was wonderful, and the evening was smoothing out. My heart swelled and I wanted nothing else but to be near her.
The first woman to be my model
A few hours into our being back in the cave and the conversation had become much more composed and soothing for both of us. We had our snack, a few drinks, and relocated to the bed. She expressed her fears to me and I could not avoid understanding. We were so similar that at times nothing could keep us from exploding. Along those lines, said similarities brought us to the peak of love and passion. The in-between areas were seldom explored because each personality toggled repeatedly between the flame and the freezing. The up was way the fuck up, but that meant that the down was equally superlative. It was the bottom. While relaxing with some quiet music, and deep into all of the staring at each other, the Brunette stated that she needed a few minutes alone. I told her I would sit tight. Some minutes later she emerged from the bathroom clad in a bodystocking, lingerie, and heels. I almost shit myself with surprise, and no sooner did I attempt to take in such a fantastic sight and she hugged me deeply. She then took my face in her warm hands and expressed her love for me and planted her lips to mine. Jesus fucking hell that was unexpected and so beautiful that my mind went away completely. All I could think of was being with her and enjoying all that she wanted. She slowly slid to the floor as I grabbed at my camera. The sight of her on all fours was enough to force the memory of how to operate the Nikon completely from my head, so I dropped it on the bed and watched her crawl. Gawd. Her curves became exaggerated to the point of looking as if she could fold in half easily. The press of her upper thighs allowed me to paint a mental picture of the numbers all over her. I did not have anything with me to wrap around her loveliness, so I simply sat there, flabbergasted at the beauty in front of me. Her eyes were that of both predator and prey. And those oversize breasts looked as if they would crush me without mercy. And I was happy to let it happen. There was absolutely no resisting any of her. I could not think clearly, and when we touched my brain went into a tailspin which led me to diving in completely. The Brunette was the most sexual woman I had ever encountered and was willing to be a fantasy of any type. And she desired me to the same extent. Within a few minutes her apartment went from a living space to a dynamic and loving retreat outside of which existed nothing at all. She took me from myself and there was to be no return. The entirety of what took place after arriving back at her home that evening -- beauty, physicality, alcohol, gazing and caressing -- took me over completely, and provided the first occasion when Michelle melted away for a time. The idea and difficulty inherent in that taking place was only realized hours later as we continued to hold hands on the sofa. And it sunk in regardless of the comfort and security I was feeling in the arms of the Brunette. I could not help it -- Michelle was wonderful and I just fucking needed her. I also needed to be where I was at that moment. I needed everything and both of them. Jesus. Which way to go, and where to be? There next to me, dozing off, the Brunette looked beautiful beyond words. And I was seeing all the way through to her soul. I felt that she had saved me. Or, to be more pointed, the connection between us and the understanding I knew she held had saved me. It probably saved both of us on more than one occasion. The ridiculous part of all of it was that we also sent each other spiraling down into a pit of despair with drunken suicidal thoughts. We had already been through many moments in which neither was seemingly inconsolable. But we always rose from the shit, somehow.
The Brunette would wear anything I wished
And considering all that had taken place throughout my visit to the cave, I needed to be near Michelle like never before. I longed for her eyes and embrace. The Brunette had carried me quite literally from the draw of death, yet I knew that over time we would drive each other right back there with all severity. We had done it, and we would do it again and again. I loved her and she felt the same. Still, the knowing was tearing me up like tissue in hard water. And all of the pieces -- however endearing and emotional -- would come together only temporarily. I felt it to the center of myself. There was no exit from that road. The Brunette and I would destroy each other, sooner or later. Every thought became as the ball in a tennis match. Back and forth over and over I knew it would be bliss and then damage... joy then fear. At any given time I could drive her to the bottom, or she could do the same to me. We just did not mix, and there could be no balanced end. The morning arrived with her up against me in all her beauty. I rose and showered while she slept. Coffee, the balcony, the quiet, and the knowing -- one after the other -- pushed for me to leave. All of that despite the love and unending loveliness that was us. We were beautiful and on top of everything in the world. It was all ours in the beginning, but later times brought us to defeat. I could not help but look at her through the window and cry into my coffee. Sadness. She awoke to my absence and immediately called me. I told her I was down at the market and would return shortly. And I did, to find her still lying there and writing in her journal. I could not imagine what that entry could have entailed, but suffice to say I also knew. Her tussled hair and disheveled look was super cute. When our eyes met again, I could see she was drawing the same conclusion as I did just a while earlier. My sadness returned, she began to cry, and then she whispered to me... 'Be well, and I love you.' My eyesight blurred with tears as I turned and walked out the door."
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