| dewy decimal |
2003-05-17 - 5:36 p.m.
Daylight will break over Makapu�u in less than two hours. All the darkest pockets of the city will surrender their mystery to the tourists, the buses, the well rested. Jacky, Everet, Paul, and John are upstairs on the second floor of the club, spinning, and pushing,. I am searching the first for him. I see nothing besides that he is not here.
I move through the men clumsily, impacting shoulders left then right. It annoys me. Then there he is in his tight yellow T-shirt that stretches over his chest. The sight of it invents a new feeling in me. The music is bad, I am drunk. I tell him his shirt is cryptic. Acronyms extend themselves over him. He tells me it�s a marathon shirt. I don�t say anything.
You can always tell when the club is going to close because half an hour prior to closing they put on these really naughty R&B songs. We move into each other and kiss. Our noses meet and slide over each other. I can smell our kiss. It makes me fall harder into him. People are watching us, issuing comments. I could care less. He slides his hand in my underwear and pushes his fingers in the club�s darkest shadow. I imagine the porn that he made a few years back, his library of positions. We fuck on the floor.
�Do you want to go back to my place.�
�Jared, how do you feel about me?�
We move to the side with my sobering question. He is rubbing my back with tiny circular actions.
It is the first time we have talked about our relationship, the first time we named the space between us. Things become clearer, I step away from him.
�What�s the matter?�
�I�m sad.�
We dance for a while. I walk him outside, into the strange, beautiful night where restless beaches stir on the hips of luxury properties. An extraordinary place to return to lonliness. He leaves me as I allow him to leave. I smell him, I smell night splitting into a wet morning. I am bidding that smell farewell.
Once when I was a kid, my family took me to the Nuuanu reservoir to go catfish-fishing. I caught a catfish that was a little too small to keep. Tonight the same pride of having caught that catfish and a similar yet dimmer pride in having let it go pushes through me. The feeling is mutely sensational.
My bitchez come down the stairs all fucked up. Each one talking about how they are so in love with so and so. I manage a few laughs. And all I can think is, I�m glad I didn�t drive tonight.