The Only Problem with Jumping off a Tall Building, is Getting Lonely on the Way Down.

I am almost done with the book. It's a parable. The symbolism is bold, and transparnet. Hating books like this used to be my hobby. Classics, who needs them? Obvioulsy, I do. In the last weeks it has brought me solace. A warm respite that no living person could have. In fact, no living person has done much to supply me with reassurance. The normal has been an uphill battle. The mundane has turned stressful. Vacation provided only a moment for everything to turn upside down. Yet, I couldn't be more determined.
   "You are a broke bastard", she turned to me and said.
   "I know. I need another paycheck, soon."
   "That's not what I'm talking about", laying there, calmly said between inhaling cigarette smoke.
   "You're right.", I'm wearing it as a badge of courage. Feeling like my mind is in a hospital bed, and occasionally getting up to try and walk with invalid legs. I like it this way. I knew what she was talking about. I was just hoping that a sly deflection would work. It didn't. It also didn't stop her from following me to the kitchen, and running her hands down my chest.
   "It's ok, baby. That's why I like you." She looked up into my eyes. "Let's be honest. That's really why any woman likes you." Fuck. It's ok when you say it to yourself. It sounds completely different coming out of someone else's mouth.



   

No use crying over spilled milk.

      It's funny how you can express yourself to one person, in a crowded room, with just a small piece of body language. It's not a wink, or a twirl of the hair, or even a touch that gets me. It's the quick glance. You know, that small look that happens when she glances up from talking to a friend, and quickly there is a soft, crooked smile. If done right, it's sly, and side of the mouth. It says, "don't talk to me, just look at me for a while, until I come near you. Then you can engage me, but don't be to overt."
   It slows you down. You might have been watching her all night. Quietly salivating. Side listening to her conversations, hoping to find that "in". Thinking to yourself that it's going to be a night where you either go home alone, or start texting a stand by.
   Then, it happens. You see the glance. You see that smile. She looks back down, and you realize that, the later the clock strikes, the better this soiree has become. You find yourself not positioning, but admiring. You know the time will come. You will do something small, like walk out the front door. Just to get some oxygen away from the crowd. Smoke a cigarette in quiet confidence. You've already seen the glance a few times. You know that no one is in a hurry to go anywhere.
   The door opens behind you.
   "Do you happen to have another one of those?", it's her voice, you aren't startled. This time was coming. You could see it. Luckily, she's the female, so she saw it before you did. Trust me. She did. You think that you found her attractive. She saw you come through the door. While you were busy shaking hands, and introducing yourself, she had already made the decision for both of you. When you were busy trying to find a way to interject in her conversations, she had already decided to steer the conversation in a direction to keep you on the outside. While you were busy salivating, trying to get her attention, she had made the effort to keep her gaze away until the right moment.
    This is how you ended up here. Fast forward. You are keeping one ear on the party, and another on her. You have quickly, and quietly found yourself in the bathroom. Pants around your ankles. These long, slim legs are wrapped around you, and her ass is being pushed against the counter so hard there is a soft squeaking noise every time she moans. You can see your face in the mirror, through your tight eyelids. You went from having nothing, to having it all in a matter of minutes. None of it was your choice. Yet, you still haven't realized that. Her mouth is open, no sound. Your brain is reeling, no thoughts. The night is ending on a high note.
   Until your head hits the pillow, and you realize, that nothing happened by accident. Nothing ever happens by accident. Nothing ever will, happen by accident.