02

02

Preston Kullingher

 

She was leaving and I didn’t know what to do or feel. It was strange. We were not together anymore, if it ever were in fact. Just going out for a time, a month, guess. For my part was “hook up”, from her I can’t say. I just know that I jumped out when she wanted to make something more serious.

The news caught me off guard and as a snap my mind without warning was on her, calling her. It was as if suddenly she was part of my life, and her absence would leave me a big empty. When  I saw the posting, dude I’m freaked out: She had quit the job. And she loved that shit job…

I met her there, and in a few months we were going out, enjoying parties, beaches, travel once. Actually, I was chase after her when she was in another town visiting parents. We exchanged messages when she challenged me, saying that I would not dare, and two hours later I was at the front door. It was the first time we crush, only kisses. In the back of the trip it was that happened for sure. Was good. Not wonderful, not great. Just good. And yet I could not let it go, stay away. There was a strong attraction on my side, and a strong loneliness of her. She was very needy company and affection for living in big city alone, country girl, you know. Now she was going away, to another country. It was a no way back trip. Going to work, live, get a husband, build a new different life from what had, absolutely better. Probably never see her again. I haven’t seen her for almost year, but knew she was there, right there, a few minutes drive from my home. Now it was totally different. It was for real. Definitive. Definitely. Fuck!

Talked to her at the same time saw the posting, we arranged to see later in a bar.

We were two strangers sitting together. The conversation didn’t flow spontaneously, I asked, she answered, we drank our beers, listened to the band play and that fuck band from hell! But it was a parade of beauties in very skinny clothes, denim shorts, skirts, thick legs, big butts for all over the place, that made me turn (covertly!) several times the neck. I felt the answers she gave me some old rancor kept. As at the time she said was going because there was no strong ties to the arrest here, except his mother and some friends. Since it was alone most of the time, there was no difference be alone there than here. She said it looking through my eyes. It hurts.

I wish I could to juggle and dating her and with other affairs. But I couldn’t. Already had a girlfriend, and loved her. Seriously. And it’s hard to manager a dating and some “friends”, imagine another official girlfriend. It would have to be an artist. Always complicated at the time of the calls and messages. It seems like they feel when I’m with the “other” because, right on time, is that calling me. I have to leave in vacuum or turn off the phone to the other not to notice, and then  explain to another why have not responded. Many others that come to confuse me. A certain friend policeman once told me that the problem was just  hierarchy issues. We had to allocate them in different status to not have confusion. Girlfriends, brides, affairs each one in predetermined space and that’s it. A caste system, a Karma. Simple, or not.

Yeah! I want to be more than one, have multiple lives or just that they doesn’t matter to such bullshit loyalty, 1 → 1. I was an element that connected me to other elements of the universal set. 1 → U.

After the bar, we kissed in the car at her front door. I thought she was asking me to go upstairs, we would love that would sleep together for the last time before departure as if we were many years lovers, a farewell to mark the relationship that might have existed but that was not.

Nothing. Her pride was greater than the desire. We said bye with automatic tongue kisses, technicians, without lust, without tingling in the body or strong and accelerated breathing. Cold as night 3 am. On the way back, the dark and empty streets and thought immersed in potential loves, other people, other friends, new places to live, identity, appearance, new life. Maybe one day it wasn’t me who drop out?

The next day she returned to the city where she was born, the city of their parents. Would stay with them until the day of departure.

I didn’t call, not sent messages, could not do that to her. I had to let her go.

The departure day I went to the airport. Among cries and sobs of relatives and close friends we took a friend hug, a handshake and a simple bye, not a goodbye, even though it would fit perfectly, but it is a strong word that people are afraid to speak.

And so, my friend went to breathe European airs. I don’t know exactly what I felt being there at the time, watching that scene I imagined being her boyfriend in a parallel reality perhaps.

02 Goodbye, thank you for giving me a good, amazing, remarkable experience. What would life be if it were not so?

____________________________________________________________________

¹ To R.K for having awakened in me the desire to be a lot of me.

² I’m not a sexist pig, believe me. This is only a ficcional short.

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