Three Doors Down Part Seven Mature content No. 46 Published December 15th, 2017 8:15am pst read ( words) Past entries "Death, life. One or the other, but no in-between. The smell of the ocean brought me to a calm state until thoughts of the time spent there with the Brunette. I could not help but consider all that had transpired between us. That would have been as impossible as forgetting that I was inches away from dying on the concrete at the Westin. Everything... All of it... From the first glance of the Brunette's big, beautiful eyes, to the depressed arrival at my previous home, was floating around in my mind during the meeting at the new apartment. I was trying to listen to the leasing agent but I continued to wander off mentally and leave her with delayed answers to her questions. Once the paperwork was completed, she handed me a key and asked -- tentatively -- if I was alright. I told her that the past several months had been the most difficult of my life, and I needed to be alone in the new abode. We shook hands, I thanked her, and went up the stairs which had carried me to the Brunette's cave so many times with excitement. Yes, I rented an apartment nearly next to hers. Huh? Yeah. I fucking ran right to where the whole series of events began. I strolled in to my new home and walked straight through to the balcony. At that point I realized something was missing... A celebration. Wait. What? Really? Whatever I had felt throughout those many days, the fact remained that I secured a new place to live and needed to at least enjoy being there for the first time. Down to the market I walked, only to return with some whiskey and cigarettes. Nice. Up to the balcony again where I stood, staring at the ocean, and drinking right out of the bottle. My temporary denial of everything was in full swing so I donned the V6s and blasted some damaging music. For a little while all seemed that it would be ok because I felt comfortable being there. No one knew of my location save for the ex, and the knowledge that I could not be contacted in any way was very satisfying. I did know that at some point I had to inform the Brunette that I had selfishly invaded her space (in a manner of speaking), and I did my damnedest to push that thought far away. I closed it off and kept drinking. Another first-class decision from a depressed and suicidal individual. Splendid. Michelle and her devilish playfulness Cut to an hour later and I realized my judgment was waning just like the level of whiskey in the bottle. No matter, I had no other place to be. I just wished to be there alone and relax. My phone was in the kitchen all by itself and making no sound whatsoever. That was very nice, considering how much it went crazy every time I took off for Nevada. As soon as I was out of contact for a couple of hours, others would get the idea that I had done something dangerous and then the calls flew around like a flock of undecided birds. The fact that it was just sitting there quiet was nice. I had no worries about being out of touch any longer. The apartment was there to keep me grounded and with a place I could remain calm and thoughtful. I sat and enjoyed the silence a while longer. When I ventured to the kitchen to get a sip of water out of the faucet, I noticed several missed calls -- all from the Brunette. Well, I thought the phone was quiet, anyway. Apparently, she had arrived home after being out and saw the Slipper parked in the space reserved for the leasing office. Oops. And there was no mistaking my car for any other. I knew that was going to open an enormous discussion but I could not ignore her. I sent a message requesting that she head left down the hall and address the third door. A bit cryptic, yes, but the Brunette was very intelligent and swift at working things out in her head. And a few moments later... Knock, knock. God help me. I opened the door to see her unreal face once again. I had not had the pleasure of being near her for some time, so to gaze at that beauty standing before me was beyond belief. She smiled with that expression from heaven, and I asked her to enter. We embraced and she asked of my well-being. I could not be honest because that would have sent her into a tailspin, so I simply went around everything in my head and told her I was fine, if nervous about being there. There were no ill feelings whatsoever, so we went into the living room and sat next to each other on the floor for a time. I could not believe that we were there together and so close to her space which had held both good and bad memories. And she looked so gorgeous that I had to stare. After telling me with teary eyes that she thought I was gone forever, we held each other again for a long while and I told her that though my mind was unable to process all that had taken place, and considering my historically unstable nature, I was never terribly close to ending myself (bullshit, but necessary). She likely saw right through me, naturally, but would not say it out loud. We were too similar for things to be that easy. That endless collection of gorgeous lingerie After a little while of speaking with each other and gazing, she decided to go home and let me be. I did have much to do, after all, so why not get started before I fell all the way in to the bottle? A smooch and she was out the door. And I realized all of the worry which had been generated once I secured the apartment was for naught. How could I have forgotten what a wonderfully understanding soul the Brunette was? Such a person. At the closing of the door, I went back out to the balcony and returned my lips to the whiskey. Much time passed as I watched the sun closing in on the surface of the sea, and all the while everything swirled within me like a cyclone. Vegas, Michelle, the flights which were warm and loving like nothing else, her hair flowing around my face... And then all of the drops from on high took over. The hotel in Costa Mesa, the drive out of there, and my rush to return home. Jesus. One after the other, the isolated situations which the three of us had lived through for days and days were slamming my mind and pressing me into a mold once again. And then the worst of it -- Michelle's departure from my sight in front of her home. God help me. Could I live on and make something of my life from that point, and with all of the sadness which continued to creep in? I did not know, and I failed to make any good come from any of it throughout the following days. I just kept running in whatever direction seemed like it would help, but nothing changed. I stood there, staring at the ocean, and in the exact same condition which brought my sordid mind to all of those brushes with death. As much as I wished to be well in some manner, it did not happen. The whiskey was getting low, and I was becoming worse. Back into the freshly cleaned and empty apartment I stumbled, and onto the carpet. Swirling, spinning, falling... There seemed no bottom to any of it. Or me. Apparently I had not yet reached the lowest point possible short of dying, and so the downward slide proceeded. After lying there for what felt an eternity, I grabbed at the whiskey yet again and continued to dive. Why not? I had zero expectations of surviving all of it anyway. There was little reason to avoid being drunk. The thoughts kept invading. I saw Michelle over and over in all her glorious and all-encompassing beauty, and many of those visions brought a stabbing pain into my chest. She had become so much that my out-of-balance nature was in full force. I sat there knowing that I was not a complete person without her in my life. And if that is not a warning sign, nothing can be. I eventually dropped into sleep with a head full of hell. Her height led to wonderful features There she stood... Next to the Nile and looking every bit the goddess. She smiled at me and my heart leaped so dramatically that I thought I was having an attack. And she strolled over toward me with those long, slender legs... Eyes affixed upon mine... Hair bouncing behind her like some gorgeous show horse's mane... Breasts straining to remain within her silk blouse and pushing upward with every step... Lips pursing into a sexual smile unlike anything in the world... Hips defying the narrowness of her waist... Closer and closer her tall frame flowed across the carpet... Closer... Almost to me... And then I awoke on the living room floor in the blackness. And I mean blackness... All around me and within me. She was gone again. Jesus, it was the worst slam back to reality and one that had the capability of driving me into the ground with all haste. I nearly could not handle seeing her briefly and while we were in the middle of bliss, and then coming back to the real world knowing I would never see that slow-motion and dreamy walk again in my life. I arose, wiped away the many tears, and realized I needed to get a bed in there. The floor was not that comfortable, nor was the thought of Michelle invading my dreams. She again became the entire world, but one I could no longer inhabit. It was far away and would not return. What the fuck to do? I did not know, and the only path I could see was to drink myself to death. Why the fuck not? What else was there? Nothing. But maybe a bed would help. Another knock at the door. That time it was the leasing agent, and upon seeing me she immediately asked if I was ok. I lied through my teeth for what seemed the billionth time and told her that everything was fine. She simply needed a bit more information and was also there to drop off my second key. Hmm. Two keys, but only one damaged individual living there. Nice. She exited and I decided to bring some things into the place to satisfy a few basic needs other than taking another step toward being completely nonfunctional and wrecked. Yeah, whatever. I took to the garage and emptied the car into my new abode, and then headed back out to the valley to secure a few more things. Along the way I passed the exit which led to Michelle's home and again the water works took me by full force. I had to pull over and rest my heart for a few minutes. Back to the road again and I completed my business. When I arrived at the coast again I sighted the Brunette taking her diminutive dog for a short walk and did my best not to draw her attention. Everything was driving me into the ground and I had no intention of sharing. I knew not what to do nor which direction to turn, but I knew that the less I inflicted myself upon others the better off they would be. So I hid myself until such time as I could appear stable around others. Through the door, blinds closed, deadbolt thrown, and out to the balcony. All of the things I brought along remained in the Slipper. The basics would have to wait until such time as I could be outside near others. Liquid sex... from any angle The hours passed as always, and eventually the knife came out of my bag and sat on the kitchen counter. I could not help but display the blade, because for whatever reason it brought me comfort. Knowing that I could exit and end all of the flames in my head and heart helped me to maintain the ability to carry forward. The exit was illuminated so many times that I became accustomed to the feeling. And then the thought of the cut caused me to flinch, and again I would walk away. That action, repeated over and over for many days, meant that I was perhaps destined to leave the weapon in its sheath. Perhaps. Still, I felt the tremendous draw of death often enough to avoid others. One word in the wrong direction, or one expression toward the Brunette, and the authorities would be at my door. I knew it all too well. That situation took place during my time in her apartment, and eventually led to some of the harshest and most demanding debates I had ever experienced. It also led to my being escorted to the emergency more than once over a very short period of time. I had no desire to repeat such a thing, and I had to avoid showing the wrong emotions to the Brunette. Placing myself so close to her home did provide me with much reason for remaining stable, however, and the avoidance mentioned above began to allow me to relax and shift focus to more productive aspects of slipping into a new home. Over the next several days I saw her only a few times in passing, and the increasing chances of seeing her face and connecting helped me to push some things aside and just live. Eventually, that led me to a place of comfort. Things began to take shape in my new place... Sleeping, cooking, and keeping the apartment in order while I brought more and more of my possessions home really kept me away from the knife and associated feelings of dread. I started to enjoy being there -- hidden for the most part -- and made the space into a haven within which I could stretch out and attempt to collate all of the recent events. Michelle still floated around in my head, the Brunette stayed in my heart, and the life I threw to the wind began to ease its push on me to die. All of it added up to the realization that I could get through the difficulties and make a life out of the forced changes. Yes, I was feeling the up approaching. Unbelievable. Organization and streamlining of my space continued for weeks, just as the heavenly visits with the Brunette. I let her be, for the most part, and only moved in her direction when I felt she would respond in kind. And every inch the model Eventually I fell into somewhat of a routine at home. Coffee in the morning, and cooking light meals with my simplistic array of kitchen materials. The Brunette visited now and again, and we went out together on short excursions with the cameras. During one outing she asked if I wished to visit a photography club as a guest to see if it would be something I could embrace. The following week I went with her, and to be within the confines of her car brought me a comfort I had not felt since the outset of our long trip a few months earlier. She took my hand from time to time while driving, allowing me to feel the closeness I had missed for quite a stretch. Her affection was genuine, just as those big eyes confirmed when she looked in my direction. The club was pleasant. Others welcomed me and asked of my interest and experiences behind the camera. Soon after I did indeed join in and began to look at photography as more than just a hobby. The Brunette and I embraced the club's monthly outings and participated in all of the activities made available. We submitted images for consideration, brought snacks on various nights, and took to the roads for more exploration and subsequent injection into our lenses. We communicated daily... Even after she returned to work at the close of being on leave for months. [My leave from work had not yet ended and I was beginning to look forward to returning in order to cut down my free time.] The photography and club trips were an effective distraction, just as the wonder of spending so much time within the viewfinder. The situation between her and I had smoothed considerably, too. All of the days with the club and the few evenings we spent together became very pleasant and lacked all of the drama which seemed to define our early relationship. Things continued in such a manner for months. My time away from her was spent strictly alone and would eventually lead to a tremendous fear of being around others. Ugh. I needed to go back to work for both financing life and to get my mind back into being sociable to a point, but little did I know that fact was about to go south with the geese. Fuck. Very soon after getting my living space in complete order and filing paperwork to find approval for working, I received a forwarded letter from my previous residence. It stated that the position I held for the government was no longer necessary and I was being laid off. And that was the finest example of timing that I could have imagined. I was dropped outside the gate and left to fend for myself. Fucking hell, anyway. The thought of going to work and leaving myself less time to think was a huge push upward and something I felt could get me the rest of the way out of the ground. Once that was taken away, things changed and I began to realize that my decisions were going to place me underground for some time. And goddamn if I was ready for anything to be taken away. The upward climb had been kicking in nicely, my relationship with the Brunette had stabilized wonderfully, and I had a warm, comfortable place to live. With the snap of two fingers, all of it was placed at risk. Fuck me, fuck them, and just fuck." Copyright ©2002-2024 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
Three Doors Down Part Seven Mature content No. 46 Published December 15th, 2017 8:15am pst read ( words) Past entries "Death, life. One or the other, but no in-between. The smell of the ocean brought me to a calm state until thoughts of the time spent there with the Brunette. I could not help but consider all that had transpired between us. That would have been as impossible as forgetting that I was inches away from dying on the concrete at the Westin. Everything... All of it... From the first glance of the Brunette's big, beautiful eyes, to the depressed arrival at my previous home, was floating around in my mind during the meeting at the new apartment. I was trying to listen to the leasing agent but I continued to wander off mentally and leave her with delayed answers to her questions. Once the paperwork was completed, she handed me a key and asked -- tentatively -- if I was alright. I told her that the past several months had been the most difficult of my life, and I needed to be alone in the new abode. We shook hands, I thanked her, and went up the stairs which had carried me to the Brunette's cave so many times with excitement. Yes, I rented an apartment nearly next to hers. Huh? Yeah. I fucking ran right to where the whole series of events began. I strolled in to my new home and walked straight through to the balcony. At that point I realized something was missing... A celebration. Wait. What? Really? Whatever I had felt throughout those many days, the fact remained that I secured a new place to live and needed to at least enjoy being there for the first time. Down to the market I walked, only to return with some whiskey and cigarettes. Nice. Up to the balcony again where I stood, staring at the ocean, and drinking right out of the bottle. My temporary denial of everything was in full swing so I donned the V6s and blasted some damaging music. For a little while all seemed that it would be ok because I felt comfortable being there. No one knew of my location save for the ex, and the knowledge that I could not be contacted in any way was very satisfying. I did know that at some point I had to inform the Brunette that I had selfishly invaded her space (in a manner of speaking), and I did my damnedest to push that thought far away. I closed it off and kept drinking. Another first-class decision from a depressed and suicidal individual. Splendid. Michelle and her devilish playfulness Cut to an hour later and I realized my judgment was waning just like the level of whiskey in the bottle. No matter, I had no other place to be. I just wished to be there alone and relax. My phone was in the kitchen all by itself and making no sound whatsoever. That was very nice, considering how much it went crazy every time I took off for Nevada. As soon as I was out of contact for a couple of hours, others would get the idea that I had done something dangerous and then the calls flew around like a flock of undecided birds. The fact that it was just sitting there quiet was nice. I had no worries about being out of touch any longer. The apartment was there to keep me grounded and with a place I could remain calm and thoughtful. I sat and enjoyed the silence a while longer. When I ventured to the kitchen to get a sip of water out of the faucet, I noticed several missed calls -- all from the Brunette. Well, I thought the phone was quiet, anyway. Apparently, she had arrived home after being out and saw the Slipper parked in the space reserved for the leasing office. Oops. And there was no mistaking my car for any other. I knew that was going to open an enormous discussion but I could not ignore her. I sent a message requesting that she head left down the hall and address the third door. A bit cryptic, yes, but the Brunette was very intelligent and swift at working things out in her head. And a few moments later... Knock, knock. God help me. I opened the door to see her unreal face once again. I had not had the pleasure of being near her for some time, so to gaze at that beauty standing before me was beyond belief. She smiled with that expression from heaven, and I asked her to enter. We embraced and she asked of my well-being. I could not be honest because that would have sent her into a tailspin, so I simply went around everything in my head and told her I was fine, if nervous about being there. There were no ill feelings whatsoever, so we went into the living room and sat next to each other on the floor for a time. I could not believe that we were there together and so close to her space which had held both good and bad memories. And she looked so gorgeous that I had to stare. After telling me with teary eyes that she thought I was gone forever, we held each other again for a long while and I told her that though my mind was unable to process all that had taken place, and considering my historically unstable nature, I was never terribly close to ending myself (bullshit, but necessary). She likely saw right through me, naturally, but would not say it out loud. We were too similar for things to be that easy. That endless collection of gorgeous lingerie After a little while of speaking with each other and gazing, she decided to go home and let me be. I did have much to do, after all, so why not get started before I fell all the way in to the bottle? A smooch and she was out the door. And I realized all of the worry which had been generated once I secured the apartment was for naught. How could I have forgotten what a wonderfully understanding soul the Brunette was? Such a person. At the closing of the door, I went back out to the balcony and returned my lips to the whiskey. Much time passed as I watched the sun closing in on the surface of the sea, and all the while everything swirled within me like a cyclone. Vegas, Michelle, the flights which were warm and loving like nothing else, her hair flowing around my face... And then all of the drops from on high took over. The hotel in Costa Mesa, the drive out of there, and my rush to return home. Jesus. One after the other, the isolated situations which the three of us had lived through for days and days were slamming my mind and pressing me into a mold once again. And then the worst of it -- Michelle's departure from my sight in front of her home. God help me. Could I live on and make something of my life from that point, and with all of the sadness which continued to creep in? I did not know, and I failed to make any good come from any of it throughout the following days. I just kept running in whatever direction seemed like it would help, but nothing changed. I stood there, staring at the ocean, and in the exact same condition which brought my sordid mind to all of those brushes with death. As much as I wished to be well in some manner, it did not happen. The whiskey was getting low, and I was becoming worse. Back into the freshly cleaned and empty apartment I stumbled, and onto the carpet. Swirling, spinning, falling... There seemed no bottom to any of it. Or me. Apparently I had not yet reached the lowest point possible short of dying, and so the downward slide proceeded. After lying there for what felt an eternity, I grabbed at the whiskey yet again and continued to dive. Why not? I had zero expectations of surviving all of it anyway. There was little reason to avoid being drunk. The thoughts kept invading. I saw Michelle over and over in all her glorious and all-encompassing beauty, and many of those visions brought a stabbing pain into my chest. She had become so much that my out-of-balance nature was in full force. I sat there knowing that I was not a complete person without her in my life. And if that is not a warning sign, nothing can be. I eventually dropped into sleep with a head full of hell. Her height led to wonderful features There she stood... Next to the Nile and looking every bit the goddess. She smiled at me and my heart leaped so dramatically that I thought I was having an attack. And she strolled over toward me with those long, slender legs... Eyes affixed upon mine... Hair bouncing behind her like some gorgeous show horse's mane... Breasts straining to remain within her silk blouse and pushing upward with every step... Lips pursing into a sexual smile unlike anything in the world... Hips defying the narrowness of her waist... Closer and closer her tall frame flowed across the carpet... Closer... Almost to me... And then I awoke on the living room floor in the blackness. And I mean blackness... All around me and within me. She was gone again. Jesus, it was the worst slam back to reality and one that had the capability of driving me into the ground with all haste. I nearly could not handle seeing her briefly and while we were in the middle of bliss, and then coming back to the real world knowing I would never see that slow-motion and dreamy walk again in my life. I arose, wiped away the many tears, and realized I needed to get a bed in there. The floor was not that comfortable, nor was the thought of Michelle invading my dreams. She again became the entire world, but one I could no longer inhabit. It was far away and would not return. What the fuck to do? I did not know, and the only path I could see was to drink myself to death. Why the fuck not? What else was there? Nothing. But maybe a bed would help. Another knock at the door. That time it was the leasing agent, and upon seeing me she immediately asked if I was ok. I lied through my teeth for what seemed the billionth time and told her that everything was fine. She simply needed a bit more information and was also there to drop off my second key. Hmm. Two keys, but only one damaged individual living there. Nice. She exited and I decided to bring some things into the place to satisfy a few basic needs other than taking another step toward being completely nonfunctional and wrecked. Yeah, whatever. I took to the garage and emptied the car into my new abode, and then headed back out to the valley to secure a few more things. Along the way I passed the exit which led to Michelle's home and again the water works took me by full force. I had to pull over and rest my heart for a few minutes. Back to the road again and I completed my business. When I arrived at the coast again I sighted the Brunette taking her diminutive dog for a short walk and did my best not to draw her attention. Everything was driving me into the ground and I had no intention of sharing. I knew not what to do nor which direction to turn, but I knew that the less I inflicted myself upon others the better off they would be. So I hid myself until such time as I could appear stable around others. Through the door, blinds closed, deadbolt thrown, and out to the balcony. All of the things I brought along remained in the Slipper. The basics would have to wait until such time as I could be outside near others. Liquid sex... from any angle The hours passed as always, and eventually the knife came out of my bag and sat on the kitchen counter. I could not help but display the blade, because for whatever reason it brought me comfort. Knowing that I could exit and end all of the flames in my head and heart helped me to maintain the ability to carry forward. The exit was illuminated so many times that I became accustomed to the feeling. And then the thought of the cut caused me to flinch, and again I would walk away. That action, repeated over and over for many days, meant that I was perhaps destined to leave the weapon in its sheath. Perhaps. Still, I felt the tremendous draw of death often enough to avoid others. One word in the wrong direction, or one expression toward the Brunette, and the authorities would be at my door. I knew it all too well. That situation took place during my time in her apartment, and eventually led to some of the harshest and most demanding debates I had ever experienced. It also led to my being escorted to the emergency more than once over a very short period of time. I had no desire to repeat such a thing, and I had to avoid showing the wrong emotions to the Brunette. Placing myself so close to her home did provide me with much reason for remaining stable, however, and the avoidance mentioned above began to allow me to relax and shift focus to more productive aspects of slipping into a new home. Over the next several days I saw her only a few times in passing, and the increasing chances of seeing her face and connecting helped me to push some things aside and just live. Eventually, that led me to a place of comfort. Things began to take shape in my new place... Sleeping, cooking, and keeping the apartment in order while I brought more and more of my possessions home really kept me away from the knife and associated feelings of dread. I started to enjoy being there -- hidden for the most part -- and made the space into a haven within which I could stretch out and attempt to collate all of the recent events. Michelle still floated around in my head, the Brunette stayed in my heart, and the life I threw to the wind began to ease its push on me to die. All of it added up to the realization that I could get through the difficulties and make a life out of the forced changes. Yes, I was feeling the up approaching. Unbelievable. Organization and streamlining of my space continued for weeks, just as the heavenly visits with the Brunette. I let her be, for the most part, and only moved in her direction when I felt she would respond in kind. And every inch the model Eventually I fell into somewhat of a routine at home. Coffee in the morning, and cooking light meals with my simplistic array of kitchen materials. The Brunette visited now and again, and we went out together on short excursions with the cameras. During one outing she asked if I wished to visit a photography club as a guest to see if it would be something I could embrace. The following week I went with her, and to be within the confines of her car brought me a comfort I had not felt since the outset of our long trip a few months earlier. She took my hand from time to time while driving, allowing me to feel the closeness I had missed for quite a stretch. Her affection was genuine, just as those big eyes confirmed when she looked in my direction. The club was pleasant. Others welcomed me and asked of my interest and experiences behind the camera. Soon after I did indeed join in and began to look at photography as more than just a hobby. The Brunette and I embraced the club's monthly outings and participated in all of the activities made available. We submitted images for consideration, brought snacks on various nights, and took to the roads for more exploration and subsequent injection into our lenses. We communicated daily... Even after she returned to work at the close of being on leave for months. [My leave from work had not yet ended and I was beginning to look forward to returning in order to cut down my free time.] The photography and club trips were an effective distraction, just as the wonder of spending so much time within the viewfinder. The situation between her and I had smoothed considerably, too. All of the days with the club and the few evenings we spent together became very pleasant and lacked all of the drama which seemed to define our early relationship. Things continued in such a manner for months. My time away from her was spent strictly alone and would eventually lead to a tremendous fear of being around others. Ugh. I needed to go back to work for both financing life and to get my mind back into being sociable to a point, but little did I know that fact was about to go south with the geese. Fuck. Very soon after getting my living space in complete order and filing paperwork to find approval for working, I received a forwarded letter from my previous residence. It stated that the position I held for the government was no longer necessary and I was being laid off. And that was the finest example of timing that I could have imagined. I was dropped outside the gate and left to fend for myself. Fucking hell, anyway. The thought of going to work and leaving myself less time to think was a huge push upward and something I felt could get me the rest of the way out of the ground. Once that was taken away, things changed and I began to realize that my decisions were going to place me underground for some time. And goddamn if I was ready for anything to be taken away. The upward climb had been kicking in nicely, my relationship with the Brunette had stabilized wonderfully, and I had a warm, comfortable place to live. With the snap of two fingers, all of it was placed at risk. Fuck me, fuck them, and just fuck."
Three Doors Down
Part Seven
Mature content No. 46 Published December 15th, 2017 8:15am pst read ( words) Past entries
"Death, life. One or the other, but no in-between. The smell of the ocean brought me to a calm state until thoughts of the time spent there with the Brunette. I could not help but consider all that had transpired between us. That would have been as impossible as forgetting that I was inches away from dying on the concrete at the Westin. Everything... All of it... From the first glance of the Brunette's big, beautiful eyes, to the depressed arrival at my previous home, was floating around in my mind during the meeting at the new apartment. I was trying to listen to the leasing agent but I continued to wander off mentally and leave her with delayed answers to her questions. Once the paperwork was completed, she handed me a key and asked -- tentatively -- if I was alright. I told her that the past several months had been the most difficult of my life, and I needed to be alone in the new abode. We shook hands, I thanked her, and went up the stairs which had carried me to the Brunette's cave so many times with excitement. Yes, I rented an apartment nearly next to hers. Huh? Yeah. I fucking ran right to where the whole series of events began. I strolled in to my new home and walked straight through to the balcony. At that point I realized something was missing... A celebration. Wait. What? Really? Whatever I had felt throughout those many days, the fact remained that I secured a new place to live and needed to at least enjoy being there for the first time. Down to the market I walked, only to return with some whiskey and cigarettes. Nice. Up to the balcony again where I stood, staring at the ocean, and drinking right out of the bottle. My temporary denial of everything was in full swing so I donned the V6s and blasted some damaging music. For a little while all seemed that it would be ok because I felt comfortable being there. No one knew of my location save for the ex, and the knowledge that I could not be contacted in any way was very satisfying. I did know that at some point I had to inform the Brunette that I had selfishly invaded her space (in a manner of speaking), and I did my damnedest to push that thought far away. I closed it off and kept drinking. Another first-class decision from a depressed and suicidal individual. Splendid.
Michelle and her devilish playfulness
Cut to an hour later and I realized my judgment was waning just like the level of whiskey in the bottle. No matter, I had no other place to be. I just wished to be there alone and relax. My phone was in the kitchen all by itself and making no sound whatsoever. That was very nice, considering how much it went crazy every time I took off for Nevada. As soon as I was out of contact for a couple of hours, others would get the idea that I had done something dangerous and then the calls flew around like a flock of undecided birds. The fact that it was just sitting there quiet was nice. I had no worries about being out of touch any longer. The apartment was there to keep me grounded and with a place I could remain calm and thoughtful. I sat and enjoyed the silence a while longer. When I ventured to the kitchen to get a sip of water out of the faucet, I noticed several missed calls -- all from the Brunette. Well, I thought the phone was quiet, anyway. Apparently, she had arrived home after being out and saw the Slipper parked in the space reserved for the leasing office. Oops. And there was no mistaking my car for any other. I knew that was going to open an enormous discussion but I could not ignore her. I sent a message requesting that she head left down the hall and address the third door. A bit cryptic, yes, but the Brunette was very intelligent and swift at working things out in her head. And a few moments later... Knock, knock. God help me. I opened the door to see her unreal face once again. I had not had the pleasure of being near her for some time, so to gaze at that beauty standing before me was beyond belief. She smiled with that expression from heaven, and I asked her to enter. We embraced and she asked of my well-being. I could not be honest because that would have sent her into a tailspin, so I simply went around everything in my head and told her I was fine, if nervous about being there. There were no ill feelings whatsoever, so we went into the living room and sat next to each other on the floor for a time. I could not believe that we were there together and so close to her space which had held both good and bad memories. And she looked so gorgeous that I had to stare. After telling me with teary eyes that she thought I was gone forever, we held each other again for a long while and I told her that though my mind was unable to process all that had taken place, and considering my historically unstable nature, I was never terribly close to ending myself (bullshit, but necessary). She likely saw right through me, naturally, but would not say it out loud. We were too similar for things to be that easy.
That endless collection of gorgeous lingerie
After a little while of speaking with each other and gazing, she decided to go home and let me be. I did have much to do, after all, so why not get started before I fell all the way in to the bottle? A smooch and she was out the door. And I realized all of the worry which had been generated once I secured the apartment was for naught. How could I have forgotten what a wonderfully understanding soul the Brunette was? Such a person. At the closing of the door, I went back out to the balcony and returned my lips to the whiskey. Much time passed as I watched the sun closing in on the surface of the sea, and all the while everything swirled within me like a cyclone. Vegas, Michelle, the flights which were warm and loving like nothing else, her hair flowing around my face... And then all of the drops from on high took over. The hotel in Costa Mesa, the drive out of there, and my rush to return home. Jesus. One after the other, the isolated situations which the three of us had lived through for days and days were slamming my mind and pressing me into a mold once again. And then the worst of it -- Michelle's departure from my sight in front of her home. God help me. Could I live on and make something of my life from that point, and with all of the sadness which continued to creep in? I did not know, and I failed to make any good come from any of it throughout the following days. I just kept running in whatever direction seemed like it would help, but nothing changed. I stood there, staring at the ocean, and in the exact same condition which brought my sordid mind to all of those brushes with death. As much as I wished to be well in some manner, it did not happen. The whiskey was getting low, and I was becoming worse. Back into the freshly cleaned and empty apartment I stumbled, and onto the carpet. Swirling, spinning, falling... There seemed no bottom to any of it. Or me. Apparently I had not yet reached the lowest point possible short of dying, and so the downward slide proceeded. After lying there for what felt an eternity, I grabbed at the whiskey yet again and continued to dive. Why not? I had zero expectations of surviving all of it anyway. There was little reason to avoid being drunk. The thoughts kept invading. I saw Michelle over and over in all her glorious and all-encompassing beauty, and many of those visions brought a stabbing pain into my chest. She had become so much that my out-of-balance nature was in full force. I sat there knowing that I was not a complete person without her in my life. And if that is not a warning sign, nothing can be. I eventually dropped into sleep with a head full of hell.
Her height led to wonderful features
There she stood... Next to the Nile and looking every bit the goddess. She smiled at me and my heart leaped so dramatically that I thought I was having an attack. And she strolled over toward me with those long, slender legs... Eyes affixed upon mine... Hair bouncing behind her like some gorgeous show horse's mane... Breasts straining to remain within her silk blouse and pushing upward with every step... Lips pursing into a sexual smile unlike anything in the world... Hips defying the narrowness of her waist... Closer and closer her tall frame flowed across the carpet... Closer... Almost to me... And then I awoke on the living room floor in the blackness. And I mean blackness... All around me and within me. She was gone again. Jesus, it was the worst slam back to reality and one that had the capability of driving me into the ground with all haste. I nearly could not handle seeing her briefly and while we were in the middle of bliss, and then coming back to the real world knowing I would never see that slow-motion and dreamy walk again in my life. I arose, wiped away the many tears, and realized I needed to get a bed in there. The floor was not that comfortable, nor was the thought of Michelle invading my dreams. She again became the entire world, but one I could no longer inhabit. It was far away and would not return. What the fuck to do? I did not know, and the only path I could see was to drink myself to death. Why the fuck not? What else was there? Nothing. But maybe a bed would help. Another knock at the door. That time it was the leasing agent, and upon seeing me she immediately asked if I was ok. I lied through my teeth for what seemed the billionth time and told her that everything was fine. She simply needed a bit more information and was also there to drop off my second key. Hmm. Two keys, but only one damaged individual living there. Nice. She exited and I decided to bring some things into the place to satisfy a few basic needs other than taking another step toward being completely nonfunctional and wrecked. Yeah, whatever. I took to the garage and emptied the car into my new abode, and then headed back out to the valley to secure a few more things. Along the way I passed the exit which led to Michelle's home and again the water works took me by full force. I had to pull over and rest my heart for a few minutes. Back to the road again and I completed my business. When I arrived at the coast again I sighted the Brunette taking her diminutive dog for a short walk and did my best not to draw her attention. Everything was driving me into the ground and I had no intention of sharing. I knew not what to do nor which direction to turn, but I knew that the less I inflicted myself upon others the better off they would be. So I hid myself until such time as I could appear stable around others. Through the door, blinds closed, deadbolt thrown, and out to the balcony. All of the things I brought along remained in the Slipper. The basics would have to wait until such time as I could be outside near others.
Liquid sex... from any angle
The hours passed as always, and eventually the knife came out of my bag and sat on the kitchen counter. I could not help but display the blade, because for whatever reason it brought me comfort. Knowing that I could exit and end all of the flames in my head and heart helped me to maintain the ability to carry forward. The exit was illuminated so many times that I became accustomed to the feeling. And then the thought of the cut caused me to flinch, and again I would walk away. That action, repeated over and over for many days, meant that I was perhaps destined to leave the weapon in its sheath. Perhaps. Still, I felt the tremendous draw of death often enough to avoid others. One word in the wrong direction, or one expression toward the Brunette, and the authorities would be at my door. I knew it all too well. That situation took place during my time in her apartment, and eventually led to some of the harshest and most demanding debates I had ever experienced. It also led to my being escorted to the emergency more than once over a very short period of time. I had no desire to repeat such a thing, and I had to avoid showing the wrong emotions to the Brunette. Placing myself so close to her home did provide me with much reason for remaining stable, however, and the avoidance mentioned above began to allow me to relax and shift focus to more productive aspects of slipping into a new home. Over the next several days I saw her only a few times in passing, and the increasing chances of seeing her face and connecting helped me to push some things aside and just live. Eventually, that led me to a place of comfort. Things began to take shape in my new place... Sleeping, cooking, and keeping the apartment in order while I brought more and more of my possessions home really kept me away from the knife and associated feelings of dread. I started to enjoy being there -- hidden for the most part -- and made the space into a haven within which I could stretch out and attempt to collate all of the recent events. Michelle still floated around in my head, the Brunette stayed in my heart, and the life I threw to the wind began to ease its push on me to die. All of it added up to the realization that I could get through the difficulties and make a life out of the forced changes. Yes, I was feeling the up approaching. Unbelievable. Organization and streamlining of my space continued for weeks, just as the heavenly visits with the Brunette. I let her be, for the most part, and only moved in her direction when I felt she would respond in kind.
And every inch the model
Eventually I fell into somewhat of a routine at home. Coffee in the morning, and cooking light meals with my simplistic array of kitchen materials. The Brunette visited now and again, and we went out together on short excursions with the cameras. During one outing she asked if I wished to visit a photography club as a guest to see if it would be something I could embrace. The following week I went with her, and to be within the confines of her car brought me a comfort I had not felt since the outset of our long trip a few months earlier. She took my hand from time to time while driving, allowing me to feel the closeness I had missed for quite a stretch. Her affection was genuine, just as those big eyes confirmed when she looked in my direction. The club was pleasant. Others welcomed me and asked of my interest and experiences behind the camera. Soon after I did indeed join in and began to look at photography as more than just a hobby. The Brunette and I embraced the club's monthly outings and participated in all of the activities made available. We submitted images for consideration, brought snacks on various nights, and took to the roads for more exploration and subsequent injection into our lenses. We communicated daily... Even after she returned to work at the close of being on leave for months. [My leave from work had not yet ended and I was beginning to look forward to returning in order to cut down my free time.] The photography and club trips were an effective distraction, just as the wonder of spending so much time within the viewfinder. The situation between her and I had smoothed considerably, too. All of the days with the club and the few evenings we spent together became very pleasant and lacked all of the drama which seemed to define our early relationship. Things continued in such a manner for months. My time away from her was spent strictly alone and would eventually lead to a tremendous fear of being around others. Ugh. I needed to go back to work for both financing life and to get my mind back into being sociable to a point, but little did I know that fact was about to go south with the geese. Fuck. Very soon after getting my living space in complete order and filing paperwork to find approval for working, I received a forwarded letter from my previous residence. It stated that the position I held for the government was no longer necessary and I was being laid off. And that was the finest example of timing that I could have imagined. I was dropped outside the gate and left to fend for myself. Fucking hell, anyway. The thought of going to work and leaving myself less time to think was a huge push upward and something I felt could get me the rest of the way out of the ground. Once that was taken away, things changed and I began to realize that my decisions were going to place me underground for some time. And goddamn if I was ready for anything to be taken away. The upward climb had been kicking in nicely, my relationship with the Brunette had stabilized wonderfully, and I had a warm, comfortable place to live. With the snap of two fingers, all of it was placed at risk. Fuck me, fuck them, and just fuck."
Copyright ©2002-2024 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
legal
about
archive
home
