Sex / Thoughts

Fear, Sex, and Chocolate.

I almost never have new dreams, but today I did. So I’m going to record it.

I was back at home. I was my same age and I had lived through nearly everything that that I have now with a couple notable exceptions. Which in itself is interesting, because I had a full range of memories and the knowledge that they were in fact, memories. My past was not so haunting though. My life quite a bit more free, and in so many ways, so very much less free at the same time.

I was walking through the city. I don’t know why, nut I left my car and walked. I was so euphoric that I decided that where I would live had to be within walking distance of my job. If I could only walk from place to place, everything would be alright. But then I got in the car and drove to the apartment building. I didn’t want to leave my car in case I really needed it. When I got there I toured the apartment and decided right away that it was made for me. It was tiny. Absolutely tiny, but pristine looking. The man told me that the last tenant had to be kicked out. He couldn’t pay his rent. The landlord apologized over and over about the state of the place. Though I was confused, I wasn’t too stupid to take advantage and got a little discount. Truly I had no idea though.

I was working at a grocery store near to my fancy and somewhat ruined apartment. The last tenant had ruined it by writing his anger all over the walls. It was a beautiful apartment until you see it in the right light. Then, all the hateful writing would show up. People peed in the bathroom that was available for guests and consequently that I used for my trysts. I couldn’t afford to live there by myself, so I got a roommate. Not a strange coincidence.

When I came home one night, the light was hitting the walls just so and saw for the first time all the writing the last tenant left on the walls. I spent all night reading it, horrified and enthralled at the same time. After that night, I begged my estranged best friend/ sister from another mother to move in with me. And soon thereafter began, not reluctantly -most of the time- sleeping with an ex, who had lived through nearly everything he’s lived through now, with a few notable exceptions.

It started without decision, but once we could decide we wouldn’t. As I went into the hall, I nearly ran into a man. I had both hands on his chest and he had grabbed my arms before we realized who each other were. What passed between was completely without thought. Immediately we were kissing like two people who had just survived the end of the world. We ended up in the restroom used for guests in the building. It didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t still today, but that’s what it was for. We went in there in a streak. It was filthy. Someone had peed in the shower, but we turned it on and ignored the disgustingness. All I remember was his lips, his arms and chest. Mostly just his lips. And then we were in my apartment joking about it. Ashleigh, my roommate sobered me up at the prospect of actually sleeping with him for the first time. She asked where his wife thought he was, and what she thought of it. Though he too seemed quite shameless, he had nothing to say. Though I was not reluctant, my decision to sleep with him was not without consequences. I shoved my face full of chocolate and the scene changed.

We were standing together watching a perplexing scene. There were cows, chocolate cows. They were dripping with thick chocolate; they were giving chocolate milk and being slaughtered to produce good chocolate steaks. Over and over I see myself shoving that chocolate in my mouth while thinking about his wife. Death and guilt everywhere. Then, he was gone. Then, I was gone. Then, we no longer existed.

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