The Lunatics 2: Push Tumble & Fall

Saturday 6:00 p.m.

I stood outside Jonathan's apartment.

My thoughts were random and mathematical and not set in any particular direction because there was no sadness and no heartbreak to hold on to.

The longing was gone and in its place was a vast space that seemed to be peace. A space that for the last nine months had been occupied by memories of CS.

What would my new definition of happiness look like? Maybe it would turn out to be an absolute Carelessness about people and things, and that sounded like freedom. When would I get my answer?

I pushed the door open to Jonathan's apartment, and the familiar musty smell felt delicious to me. Jonathan was face down sleeping. He was slim and muscular, and his back was bare naked. A white sheet covered him from the waist down.

I stripped down to my underwear and tank top.

Maybe this was my newfound happiness, just coming home and snuggling with Jonathan. The feeling was even without any highs or lows; maybe I could find joy somewhere in this straight line.

I snuck into bed. He woke up for a few seconds and welcomed me. His lips moved while the rest of him stayed put.

"Baby, I am so glad you are home," he said and put his arm around my waist. "You're so silky soft." I scurried next to him and threw my leg over his.

He pushed himself up against the wall and reached for a smoke, and this all seemed so familiar and comfortable, and it was such a dangerous combination because my head told me that this was home.

That I was home.

That this was the home I had created for myself, my house of cards, and it didn't matter much because I didn't hurt anymore. So, as I laid next to Jonathan, my head whispered to me and told me what my new blueprint for happiness would be.

Use him. Use everyone. Nothing More.

Nothing more.

I pushed Jonathan back down and straddled him.

"Woah . . . what's this about." His unlit cigarette fell on the floor.

"Are you ready?" I said, and I let myself fall on his chest. Then I kissed him slowly. My hands gripped his shoulders, and he embraced me. My small frame disappeared into his body.

He moaned. I pushed my weight against him.

Then he pulled himself up and wrapped my legs around his waist. He pulled up my tank top and pressed his chest against mine. His kisses were hard and desperate.

He slid down my panties. I held on tight to him, and after a few seconds, we began to rock back and forth.

"I love you," he whispered. Taking a chance. Hoping that if he put himself on the line, I would respond in kind.

I waited. It took me a moment to adjust the core that was me. The girl who pretended not to care about people but did. I thought the transition to be a liar and a user would be hard, but as it turned out, it was easier than I thought. And sweeter than I expected.

"I love you, too," I said. And each time I said it, it made him more excited still. He breathed hard into my neck. He rocked me slow.

"Say it again," he asked.

"I love you," I said.

And then he rocked me faster until we came to a complete stop.

He held me in a sweaty embrace. His eyes were closed.

"Wow," he said.

I caressed his hair, and after a few seconds, I climbed off him. I laid on my stomach with my face turned away from him. His hand stroked my back a few times before it landed on my waist and he left it there as he fell back asleep.

And my eyes were still open.

My bangs fell on my eyelashes, but I was too tired to move them.

I stared blankly at the wall and counted every chip on the windowpane; random mathematical thoughts filled the space in my head where the heartbreak had been. And I had no idea what to expect next because I was numb.

God Myla, my head spoke again, have you got no heart?

"Not anymore," I said in a whisper. A tear escaped and ran down the crevice on my nose and into the side of my lips. It was salty.

And after being up twenty-four hours, my body finally gave up on me.

The last thing I saw was Jonathan's digital clock on the floor.

Set to military time.

19:00.

***