new years eve

Not so long ago, my life got a turn, and I was nowhere to be found except in my room, where I did nothing really productive except relive the same story time after time in different versions. Almost a week after returning from a rather somber trip with my family, you loomed like a bizarre protagonist at the front door and asked me to accompany you to a meeting with a minor character dug up from the bygone past. As we sat on the big table, you turned to my ear and told me confidentially that all you could stare at were the new skin marks on her flushed face and chest, then your vicious smile, your dramatic appearance decorated in black lace and fake black fur, met her sly glance. Ready to spill the truth, you drew a red, bright mouth for effect and didn’t hold back. The words came out of you as an impetuous river like you were reading from a script revealing within you an excellent actress standing bold on the theater stage with your emphasis on the right words and your trembling from the upheaval, your direct intonation the triumph of nakedness dancing with delicate yet audacious movements in front of my aghast eyes; a dance you performed a spectacle I was lured into spellbound which reminded me reasons of loving you again. I kept my bowler hat on, and with my austere posture and composure intact, I listened carefully to your childhood’s tragic stories coming out of your mouth as unleashed shots, compelling, beautifully unstained against your friend’s unsuspicious face. Five days after that meeting, you approached me, sat with me on a bench, and told me without a blink of an eye that you were moving out the next day. Your face was anchored, clouded by steam, staring solemnly at my eyes- full of tears.

I was overwhelmed once again by the manic temperament ingested into you for escape. An unrestrained, bleak energy comes out of nowhere and decides for you to hit the road for a place you never craved, leaving you lost and amnesiac, wondering why you landed there. I repeatedly asked you not to leave me alone, but you kept packing your suitcase with tears in your eyes. I begged you to stay, please, please, I begged you not to go, don’t move out of here ever again, and you were asking what’s the point as a response to my begging my screams to keep you back here around me. “What’s the point”? I couldn’t make up a logical answer; it was just the need to have you around me, sensing your energy, unable to move in real-time but hungry for your presence, like that time that I thought you left for good in that faraway land. I screamed up in that foreign sky- myself being nothing but a massive head in the dark, clear sky, with swollen lips from the continuous cries. As you tried to comfort my pain and were bewitched by my flaming red face, the watery transparent eyes, and my half-opened lips seeking yours, I ended up secretly in the hotel room. I made love to your fervent body and surrendered to my hunger all night, night after night. SUDDENLY, IT FELT LIKE EVERYONE KNEW on the return in a 12-hour flight over the Russian steppes, which turned into something unspeakable; I was at the pier on that high chair gazing at the Tyrrhenian Sea from the exile I got myself into forcing you with me to that Prison island with nothing but the ruins of old prison barracks. I ordered you to wear a long white gown, and your hair was undone and messy on your shoulders; you approached me with a sweet smile announcing, not without some hesitation, that you don’t wear anything underneath, and from then on, our life was a mad feverish dream with the companion of the sea, the absolute isolation of a sweltering unescapable sun and the evenings spend out at the countryside drinking wine till the darkness led us upstairs from the stone staircase in that loud iron bed where you fucked me till I passed out.