<![CDATA[My Site - Excerpt 1 - About a girl]]>Wed, 25 Nov 2015 19:58:17 -0800Weebly<![CDATA[Excerpt 1 - About a GirlĀ ]]>Tue, 05 May 2015 23:04:21 GMThttp://diaryexcerpts.weebly.com/excerpt-1---about-a-girl/excerpt-1-about-a-girl When Billy (my son) turned 1, Hank (my husband) and I began discussing having another child. I knew that I had to stop purging if I was going to have a baby. A few months before we started attempting another life; I did, I stopped. My child was going to be using my body as a vessel and I had to. I would do absolutely anything for my children. My boys come first. Even though it was terribly hard; I held it all inside of me for the sake of my baby. Hank and I waited for the right time to start trying and in the mean time I enjoyed a clear mind. The dizziness left me and I felt steadier than I had in months. Life drifted back together.

Amy came to visit. We had not seen each other in a long time, I was surprised at how much older she looked. She told me that I looked “different” which surprised me, because I had not noticed any change. Brad did not come with her because he was working; but she brought Kev and he and Billy crawled around each other and played together as best that babies can. Things were awkward. We knew everything about each other and yet we had not talked in a long time, neither one of knew were to begin. We made small chit chat for a while. Hank’s mother agreed to watch both of our boys for the evening so that we could have some time as adults; without diaper changes. We took the boys and dropped them off.

Then we returned, just the three of us. Hank headed inside our house and Amy and I stayed outside to admire the stars, just like we had used to all those years ago. I stood and stared at the vastness spread out above me, and Amy stood close to me pointing out constellations. She stepped in closer and leaned her head on my shoulder. She placed her hand on the small of my back and I could feel her breath against my neck. I could feel the want in her breath. It was still there after all that we had been through and as far apart as our lives had drifted.  We had both gotten married and had children but it was obvious now that things had not changed as much as they appeared. I told her we should head inside, and she followed me.

When Hank and I had started dating we did not drink at all. I had a stigma against it because of my childhood. I had witnessed often, from a young age what alcohol could do to people. Many of my father’s family were alcoholics and I didn’t want to fall into that same trap. Yet as the years went on, I mellowed. Hank and I had many, many talks were we would sit and divulge ourselves to each other. We told each other the things that you are not supposed to tell anyone. We matured, and the arrogance of youth left me. I fell a few times and it helped to accept myself and my humility. He helped me to realize something of great importance; we are all human. I accepted him as a human being and he did the same for me. We were not just husband and wife; but we were best friends. We told each other all about our best/worst moments of our lives, our sexual fantasies, our hopes/fears, our masturbating habits, and our secret desires. We trusted each other with every bit of information about us (all except for my bulimia; that I kept locked up). Being honest with him helped me to develop the ability to be honest with myself.

When I was 23, I was finally ready to admit that I was curious about a lot of things I had been denying myself. Most of the other people our age were already living out their care free twenties, and I felt like I was missing these experiences. I wanted to have some adventures of our own. We discussed these desires openly with each other. We came to the conclusion that there were things we were honestly curious about. However, Billy was our first priority. We decided to try and find the balance. I did not want to be drunk around my son. I knew that for certain. I had seen my own parents in a drunken stupor so often that it had frightened me. They were not able to take care of us in this state, and sometimes it had reversed our roles. I did not want to try and party at the same time that I was caring for a baby. If we were going to drink, we got a baby sitter for the night. We realized that as long as we did things responsibly; we could let loose a little. It did not have to be all or nothing. We began on an exploration of our curiosities so long as we held firm to the things we knew we did not want to compromise.   

I wanted to watch a porno because I had never seen one before.  We watched one together.  I found it enticing, hot, and a bit gross. Mostly I was excited to explore my own desires. I delved inside myself and started asking myself “Who am I really? What is it that I believe in?” I realized that a lot of the beliefs I harbored were hand me downs from my parents. However, my parents were not here anymore, they had no influence on me. None of my family was here. They were all far away, and I remained. This was my life and I wanted to figure it out for myself. That is what I did. Instead of looking outward at the stars; I looked deep inside myself. I discovered that I believed God to be much kinder and understanding than I had been taught he was. I found that I only slightly enjoyed drinking. I did not like the feeling of nausea and confusion. I did greatly enjoy sex. Hank and I went to a strip club, and it seemed to be sexy but less than the hype. One crazy night, Hank pushed me to make out with a girl that was a friend of ours.I had confessed to him before that I wanted to. I did and I enjoyed the excitement. She taste good. I found peace in long bubble baths. I enjoyed the dirt in my toes.  Above all else in my life; I loved being a mother. I was not a two dimensional character, and I was not a Piet Mondrian painting after all. I was more of a Van Gogh. I was a “Starry Night”. I swerved and waved. I had faults that weaved in with strengths; and pleasure that came through pain. I was honest with myself and it was liberating.

Back in our living room; Amy, Hank and I melted into our various corners of the couch.  I wanted to try weed, and I had told Amy so before she came to visit. She brought some with her, and we prepared ourselves for the experience. She pulled out a sandwich bag filled with the plant; dumped it out on our coffee table and began sifting through it. She explained that you have to separate the stems and seeds. I set nervously and watched her, as she filtered the leaves with expertise. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony. Years earlier when Amy was beginning to dive into her crazy teenage rebellion; I had scolded her for smoking pot. Now she set at my coffee table separating the stems and seeds for her “mother hen”.

Amy stuffed her pipe, walked over and set next to me on the couch. She showed me how to light it and how to inhale. I placed my lips on the brim and sucked in the smoke. I held the toke in my mouth just as I had been instructed. My throat instantly reacted with a scorching pain. I winced at the pain but I managed to hold the smoke steady in my mouth.  I held on to the toke for as long as I could and then I blew it out in a sudden fit of coughs. I coughed and I hacked. My lungs and my throat yelled in equal protest as I fought to find my breath. Eventually I began to breathe again.  Amy smiled at me and said in a bit of a laugh, “smooth”. I smiled and said, “thank you” and gave her a bit of a bow. I paused for a moment waiting for an experience. I was disappointed. I felt the same; no change (only now my throat hurt like hell). Amy must have known my thoughts. She leaned over and said to me in a soft whisper, “just wait”. I leaned back into the couch and let the world sink into me. I slowly began to tingle; it started in my fingers and toes, then it spread through my body in a slow wave. I laid back and lazily watched my husband through the haze. He copied my motions. First his lips on the brim; then inhale and hold; finally a burst of coughs. I smiled at him as he drifted away. I floated away from him and around the room; bumping softly into the ceiling. I lifted my arms out and let the tingle flow through me and out of my fingertips. I was high. This knowledge moved past me and I allowed it to swim through the smoke that was now filling the room. I bathed in the calmness until I heard Hank’s hearty laugh cut through the smoke. His laughter spread, and soon we were all laughing. We laughed, and we laughed, and we laughed; our eyes watered, our stomachs ached, and our bladders threatened release; yet we continued laughing. We laughed at our world, and our lives, and the ridiculousness of it all. We were carefree and open. We laughed, then we chuckled, then we snickered; and then we talked.

We all talked through the night. I let go of my inhibitions and trusted my secrets to my friend. Amy and I were finally on the same plain again. It had been years, but we opened ourselves up to each other without reserve or fear of judgment. We found that our friendship remained intact. Hank and I talked about our recent explorations into our own curiosities and how it had helped us to understand ourselves and each other. Amy talked about her own life. She and Brad were not getting along. She had always known that he was emotionally shut off. This was originally something she liked about him because she often felt out of control of her own emotions. She had expected these traits to balance, when instead they clashed. Her attempts to get him to open up to her were futile. He did not want to change and became angry at her for trying to force it. She was unable to live with a man so cold. They both agreed that their relationship was failing. The trouble was that it did work on a practical level. Brad worked and Amy stayed home with Kev. If they were to get a divorce; they would both struggle to survive without the others assistance. However, the biggest issue for Amy was her parents. For them her divorce would be a disgrace. They would either A) disown her or B) constantly hound her with their disapproval. She wasn’t sure which outcome she would prefer. The compromise that she and Brad had derived was a “secretly open” relationship.      They remained living together and would even occasionally still have sex. However, they were able to date anyone they pleased; so long as her parents didn’t find out about it. For Amy this arrangement gave her a freedom she had not known before. She was, for the first time able to freely explore her homosexuality. She had become a “girl slut”, as she put it. She had begun dating a few different girls with the understanding that it was a casual connection. She was thoroughly enjoying her freedom and enjoyed the sex immensely. She was happy; well happy enough anyhow.

As the night wore on and the smoke got thicker; we all became more honest. Hank talked about his sexual fantasies; one of which was to see me with another woman. Amy asked me if this was something I would ever consider. I answered her lazily, but honestly. It was nothing I expected to ever happen, but it was also not something that disgusted me. I would say that I am probably a 2 on the “Kinsey Scale.” Amy looked directly at Robert and asked him, “Would you be alright if we kissed?” None of us took the question with shock or anger, because it was not meant that way. Robert took a moment to process the question. His honest answer was that he didn’t really know. He thought about it for a while and tittered on both sides. Finally, he decided that he thought he would probably be alright with it. They both looked at me. Suddenly the calmness of the room was drained and everything became very real. Amy looked at me. She was just on the verge of getting something she had spent nearly a decade longing for; a kiss. 

I looked up at Hank; his eyes waited. I looked at Amy; her eyes pleaded. They both watched me. I could not take their stares. I closed my eyes and stepped inside myself. I had to stop. I had to think. As long as my eyes were closed; I was safe inside myself. Amy asked me to kiss her. My mind sifted through this sentence as if looking for an answer. Sara asked me to kiss her. Did I want to kiss her? I shifted nervously inside my own mind. Did I?    Yes   

Was I going to? I set on this question for a while and let it sink into me.     No

I opened my eyes and returned to the room. Amy watched me intently but she did not speak. She waited for me. I looked at her knowing that I was about to hurt her. Directly into her; I whispered, “I’m sorry.” She gave a soft exhale and I could hear the moment I broke her. Pained; she closed her own eyes. While she was still inside herself, she said to me “why?” I replied, “Because it is not just a kiss.”

She shook her head as if trying to shake the experience from her mind. She gained control of herself and of the room. Picking up her tone; she said, “Well then I am going to get something to eat.” The three of us walked out to our kitchen and rampaged through the fridge. Suddenly we were all high again, and we had the munchies. I had not realized before that exact moment, but when your high food tastes amazing. Every bite of flavor melted as it caressed our taste buds. We munched on what we could and then carried the rest of our bounty back to the living room. We all sunk back into the couch and talked for hours. Hank eventually drifted off to sleep and Amy and I remained. We noticed a glimmer of light peeking through the curtains. We both raised and walked outside to watch the sunrise.

 

We stood next to each other in the morning mist. She looked at me and in a soft voice said, “Hank said he would be ok with it.”

I replied, “Yes, but I don’t think he would be in the morning.” We stood silently for a moment as the night began to turn.

Summing her breath, Amy said to me, “You know I have been in love with you for years. I have always been in love with you. Nothing I tried could stop it.”

I looked at her and I told her, “I know.”

 She continued, “Do you know I would give it all up for you?”

 I answered her, ”Yes, I know.”

 With the last of her honesty she said to me, “I would. All of it; Brad and my parents; all of it.”

 I turned to her as the sun rose and I said softly, “That is why I couldn’t kiss you.”

 

Then the last of our stars disappeared and the purples and blues took the sky.


 

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