“Rebecca, a Memoir” by Charlotte Pescale (Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 5)
© 2012 Charlotte Pescale ”All Rights Reserved”
Start from the beginning:
Introduction
Chapter 1: Darryl
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 2
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 3 (Scroll Down)
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 4 (Scroll Down)
________________________________
And now:
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 5
But there he is the next day. Beautiful. Happy. Smiling. And he catches me in his arms and stops me from falling further. And we begin again. And it’s wonderful. But I’m waiting. I’m waiting for him to bring it up. He doesn’t. And why should he? He suspects nothing. Maybe because there is nothing? Maybe this is all in my head?
The weekend goes by, filled with endless appetites. Food, sex, more food, and much more sex. But apparently my appetite is bigger than his because he tells me he has to work on Monday night and he can’t get together. And then I blurt it out. No, more like it pours out of me in gasps, like one of Darryl’s endless cum shots. Although there’s no me to catch it in my mouth, and my cries fall to the floor with a crash.
Darryl just looks at me and says, “Have you been checking up on me? Have you been snooping?” And there it is. This is what men do. Just like that he’s reversed it on me. All of a sudden I’m on the defensive. All of a sudden it’s me who’s the bad person. I’m the one with the problem. I’m the cause of it all. And I start crying. And I can’t stop.
Darryl feels badly and tries to comfort me, but it feels distant, as if he’s more irritated than sorry. But it’s hard for me to tell since I’m sobbing hysterically. Inside I’m thinking, Stop. Stop now before it’s too late. But I can’t stop. I don’t stop. Until.
Darryl explains and I listen. He says it’s no big deal. He plans on taking it down soon. And that he’s so happy he’s found me. And a bunch of other crap that I’m not sure I believe or not. I say, “If that’s the case why did you update your profile while you were away in China?”
He says, “Business trips get boring. It gave me something to do to break up the evening monotony.”
He sounds reasonable. And the more he talks the more I feel like a complete fool. I’m an idiot for bringing it up. Now I’ve ruined everything. And I say this out loud to him. He reassures me once again that nothing’s changed, but deep down I know it has. It always does.
Next up: Chapter One: Darryl – Part 6/Final
Please leave Charlotte a comment. And let your friends know about her writing. And all the writing on this page. Thanks!
“Rebecca, a memoir” by Charlotte Pescale (Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 4)
© 2012 Charlotte Pescale ”All Rights Reserved”
Start from the beginning:
Introduction
Chapter 1: Darryl
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 2 (Scroll Down)
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 3 (Scroll Down)
____________________________________
And now:
Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 4
Darryl leaves on a Monday. It’s colder than it should be for May, and I’m wearing a heavy sweater. But it doesn’t matter because I’m even colder inside. As if I’m reverting back to my arctic self, the person I was before there was Darryl. But fuck this. I wrap my sweater tighter and give myself a pep talk. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a week. We hug goodbye for what feels like an hour and off he departs to another part of the world. I sigh and tell myself it’s a good week to be productive. It’s a good time to do errands and get some things done that I need to get done. Like pay bills. Grocery shop. You know the usual crap.
Darryl and I text four or five times a day. It usually takes him a while to respond to my messages, but when he does he’s always apologetic saying he was in a meeting, or out to lunch with a potential client, or touring some factory. I get it, but I don’t like it. I also don’t like that I’m always the one initiating the text conversation. But I know that guys aren’t typically that communicative, so I try not to dwell on it.
Since I’m alone this week I figure it’s a good time to close out my online profile. I make a mental note to thank a few of my friends that pushed me to do it. It turned out better than I ever could have hoped. As I click on my profile I can see that I’ve gotten a bunch of new messages. Actually a few from some of the same old crew that I’m totally not interested in, but a few new ones as well. I read every profile just because I’m bored. A few interesting people. One guy runs an organic farm, another is a beat reporter for the local baseball team, and another is a podiatrist. I’m not sure why I think the podiatrist is interesting, but I’ve always had a thing about feet I guess. But in general I’m hardly interested in any of these new messages now that Darryl’s in my life.
As I begin to close out my account a thought crosses my mind. I wonder if Darryl has closed out his account? Wouldn’t that tell me something? Wouldn’t that give me some indication about how into me he is? Well, not necessarily. I know he’s been busy, so even if it’s still up that doesn’t mean he’s not planning on removing it as soon as he has a chance. But I should check just to see. Shouldn’t I? Or am I crossing the line? Maybe it’s none of my business? It’s not like we’ve talked about being exclusive. It’s only been a month or so. But it sure feels exclusive, at least for me. And how could it be any different for him? Doesn’t he always say he can’t get enough of me?
I’m scared. Really scared. But my curiosity gets the best of me. It always does. I click on his original note to me and wait for just a moment. My computer sucks. And then, sure enough, Darryl’s beautiful face pops up on my screen.
I stare. I pause. I sink. I look again just be sure. Then I sink some more. What does it mean? Does it mean anything? He probably just hasn’t had time to remove it. I mean, I’m just getting to remove mine today. And he’s even busier than me. But then I notice something else. Something’s different. What’s this? Is this an update? Did he change his profile description? No, it can’t be? But it is. And I sink some more.
Darryl’s been on here recently because he mentions his trip to China. And now I can’t breathe. This sucks. This type of quiet is different than what I’ve been experiencing with Darryl. This kind of quiet happens at the moment you realize that your life has changed in some way. Forever.
I hate this.
I don’t know what to do. I’m paralyzed. I don’t know how I will possibly get through this week. My head is now in full orbital angst. I feel dead inside.
But I’m not quitter. I take life hard, but one thing I do is bounce back. Or at least I try. Part of what happens for me, is once I consider the worst case scenario—that Darryl has been faking it this whole time—I’m able to function again. And I try to come up with some kind of plan.
I start by asking my friend Ted what he thinks. He’s level headed. He says it’s not a big deal. “Darryl just doesn’t want to commit yet. I mean Rebecca, it’s only been a month.”
Okay, Ted is no help. So I ask Julie and Kathy. But they’re no help either because my sadness makes them angry at Darryl, and then it becomes about their anger towards men, not my problem. This is the problem with bitch sessions among women. They just can’t stick to the issue. It always gets into a full blown discussion about why men suck. I don’t hate men, I just hate how they make me feel sometimes.
So it’s up to me to figure this out. Which is what it always comes down to anyway. Friends and family are always well-intentioned, but they come with their own baggage and set of issues, so in the end the only person who can figure this out is you. Me.
So I stop texting Darryl.
Well, this is one way to get Darryl’s attention. As soon as I stop initiating texts my phone doesn’t stop buzzing. Interesting. Is this really how guys are? I never went for all that ‘you’ve got to let him pursue you’ crap, but clearly there’s some truth to it. But when I really think about it it doesn’t make sense because eventually you have to let him catch you, right? I mean at some point the pursuing has to end otherwise you can never actually have a relationship? I just don’t get it.
But I do get sick. Nothing horrible, just a bad cold. I hate everything about the cold. Being cold and having a cold. And it feels like I will be cold forever, like a space vessel that’s broken free from the gravitational pull and is rocketing through the heavens for all eternity.
Darryl arrives back on Friday evening late and texts me to see if I’d like to get together. But I tell him I’m still not feeling better. I suggest the next day. The truth is, my cold is better, but I don’t know how to face him. Should I be upset? I’m not sure. I don’t know what to think. All I know is I feel lost. Like the heavens collapsed and I’m falling and falling.
Next Up: Chapter 1: Darryl – Part 5
Please leave Charlotte a comment. And let your friends know about her writing. And all the writing on this page. Thanks!
“Rebecca, a memoir” by Charlotte Pescale (Chapter One: Darryl – Part 3)
© 2012 Charlotte Pescale “All Rights Reserved”
Contact Charlotte at: charlottepescale@gmail.com (Charlotte is seeking representation for her book)
To start at the beginning read:
The Introduction
Chapter One: Darryl – Part 1
Chapter One: Darryl – Part 2 (scroll down)
_________________________
Chapter One: Darryl – Part 3
Darryl surprises me with tickets to the planetarium. I had mentioned the day before that I loved looking at stars. And that one of my favorite childhood memories was being woken up by my dad in the middle of the night to go up to the field behind our house and look through his fancy telescope at all the constellations. Thinking about it now, my love of stars probably has more to do with remembering the precious time alone with my father—I had three siblings and getting alone time with a parent was rare— rather than the actual planetary matter in the sky, but either way I know Darryl was listening to me yesterday, because here we are.
As the lights begin to dim Darryl leans in close to me and whispers, “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”
He’s taken me off guard so I just look at him and smile. God, he’s beautiful.
As I push my seat back, I take in the salt and pepper sky above me. It’s as if the world is opening up to me, and I’m finally able to see beyond the atmosphere, finally getting a glimpse into heaven. And I’m happy. Maybe Darryl can read my mind, maybe not, but he casually rests his hand on my leg, and I heat up like a cosmic collision. I might be gazing up at a dark sky and thousands of pieces of galactic matter, but in my seat, next to Darryl, the sun is burning hot between my thighs.
After the show, the plan is to have drinks at the local bar. Instead I suggest we skip the local dive and have a drink at his place. We do. But then we skip the drinks part and just fuck. I say fuck, because honestly I’ve never really been a make love kind of girl. For me sex needs to be unrestrained, uninhibited, with full disclosure. Making love always feels a bit too nice to me. Too clean. Too careful.
Darryl and I aren’t careful, we’re frenzied, rushed, eager. His hands feel dangerous as they slide down my pants and cup my ass, lifting me off the ground, pulling me close. Then he’s grinding his cock against the front of my jeans, while his fingers grope me from behind, searching for my wet places. Finding them. I open my mouth to gasp, but I’m only able to exhale one shallow breath.
My eyes now encourage him and let him know that he can explore any part of me he wants. And he does; with his lips. Slowly. Measured. Exact. And now sounds are coming out of me in quick bursts, and I’m trying to catch my breath. And he drinks and drinks, as if his thirst will never be quenched.
I think at some point I’ll dry up. But my cunt is impossibly wet, and getting wetter the more he explores.
Now I want him. Inside me. And my hips invite him on their own. He accepts their invitation. And as he enters me we form our own constellation that shines on and on through the night.
It’s 6am. I awaken to the faint smell of last night on the sheets, and a note.
Rebecca,
I had a great time last night with you. Definitely some firsts!
Do it again tonight?
Darryl
I say yes out loud even though I know no one is there to listen. Yes, Yes, Yes. And then I look at the clock and say No. No. Oh, No! And I rush home and get ready for work. I’m late for the first time in four years.
It goes on like this for a month.
How to describe our first month together? I can only describe it terms of, laughter. chocolate, and quiet.
Laughter. More like endless giggles. Giggles the day he dons a batman mask and cape and runs around the apartment naked, his cock slapping against his stomach as he hops around, then tripping over a five pound dumbbell, skidding across the floor in pain.
Laughter when he’s slamming me from behind, and even though I try my best to hold it, the fart gets the best of me. He pulls out laughing. I fart again. This time a cunt fart.
Laughter in unison at the movies. Laughter watching kids on the playground do the silly things kids do as we stroll through the park hand in hand. Laughter just for the sake of laughter, because we’re happy.
Then chocolate. No dark chocolate. Lots of it. The only thing that abets my cravings during my time away from him. He’s been taking business trips once a week and on those days I seem to dip into my chocolate stash every hour on the hour. The byproduct, I’ve gained five pounds. Five pounds of chocolate happiness. Darryl notices but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact he comments on how much he likes my ass with the extra meat.
Quiet. I learn about making love, and I retract my previous statements. It’s amazing to enjoy each other without making any sounds. Our eyes do the talking. And our bodies. Heavenly bodies.
Quiet. Quiet walks with no words needed, the world spinning in the background, with us unaware. Just being. Being with each other. Reading books in bed. Sharing the Sunday paper with coffee. Connecting by touch, by feel, by smell. Flexing our other senses.
During this month the days at school are long and seem to move more slowly than I remember. And the long evenings with Darryl move faster than I’d like.
I don’t tell him, but I’ve fallen for him. I know it’s only been a month, but I just have that feeling. You know the one. As if nothing else matters. As if nothing else ever mattered before him. Like my real life has just begun and I’ve left my virtual one behind. Finally. Like Jill Scott says in the tune “Love, Rain.” Love is really raining down on me.
I just hope he feels the same way. He must? I’m not sure. I’m never sure about these kinds of things. He sure acts like he’s totally into me, but who knows? I sure as hell don’t know. And I sure don’t want to ask him. I don’t want to hear if he doesn’t. And I don’t want to start making things too heavy. I don’t want to scare him away. But even my doubts are not enough to sour the elation I feel. My head has yet to leave the sky.
Then his first extended business trip comes up, and he tells me he has to go to China for a week. I expected this, but I’m not ready. Not yet. Probably never. I’m bummed and I try hard not to show it, but I can’t help myself. Darryl picks up on it and smiles, pulls me close to him and kisses the top of my head. I nuzzle my head into his neck and inhale. He smells like a sweet fern, my sweet fern.
Next up: Chapter One: Darryl – Part 4
Please leave Charlotte a comment. And let your friends know about her writing. And all the writing on this page. Thanks!
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