We were in my bed, ready to go to sleep, and then some kind of wave came over the two of us and we started going at it, doing the kind of things to each other the French hadn't even thought of yet-- then, just as it appears everything was going right everything went wrong.
She changed her mind. Some guys might have gotten pissed off about a girl making such a sudden brakeslam. But not me. Oh, no. When you get right down to it I am a push-over, and to be honest I was surprised things had gotten that far, considering how badly things had been going between us. That is, until last week. We began hanging out again, and things'd kind of fallen back into place.
Now, I'm outside, breathing in this misfit devil fog,watching a bug crawl across my sidewalk, trying in vain to work it's way over the rocks, while a naked girl I'm in love with is in my bed thinking it over.
I thought maybe if I went upstairs and lay next to her for a while, maybe the alcohol would wear off and things would calm down, but to no avail. She wanted her clothes and she wanted to go to sleep, unless I wanted to drive her home now. It was surreal. My stomach had completely dropped, and I felt as if I had swallowed a 9-volt battery. What the hell was wrong? What the hell had I done? Perhaps when we woke up, it would make some sense.
The next thing I knew she had rolled back into me on the bed. I looked at the clock: 5:01 a.m. I put my arm around her and thought maybe everything would be alright. But the second I my arm touched her she pushed herself over to the other side of the bed. She wasn't buying anything I was selling, even if she was asleep.
I slid off the bed, and headed outside into the cold March morning. Sunlight was starting to peek out over the Ramapo Mountains, as if to say "Welcome to Sunday, you sorry bastard," and I screwed a cigarette between my clanking teeth and lit it. I thought maybe I would reach some kind of enlightenment just staring at the night sky, but nothing, just that stupid bug again. My spine began to freeze into a long pole of ice as I stared at that bug, and I started to sympathize with it. Poor bastard just wanted to get over the rocks and on to other things, but he just couldn't do it, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, right before I crushed him with my boot heel.