The Fourth Horseman

Weeks Gone By

It had been three weeks since Jay and I had shared my bed. I thought about him almost every day. I would wander to my porch at night and sit looking up at the stars. Where is he? What's he doing? Who's he fucking? All the things that should never cross one's mind after a one night stand were stampeding through my thoughts, running amuck in my frenetic brain.

Hello chaos, my old friend. I tried to snap back to reality more than once, but the fantasy land in my head was just too good to turn away from. I had worked and ate and drank like normal, no real change in my day to day function. I was not withering away in his absence. I was still me. Still happy and able to laugh. Still living.

But I can say I missed his presence. It's ok to miss things like this and it's normal to relive it every now and then. It was all part of the role we play as human beings who long for the tendrils of connection and socialization as well as pleasure and passion. I would not scold myself for spending too much time on reliving the memory that was Jay, rather, I would be thankful for that night we shared.

I like to think of him remembering me when he's fucking another. I like to fantasize about him locked in a battle of the memory of me while he's fucking some other lucky lady. Struggling to feel only her when he's inside but unable to break the binds of the memory of what he felt like inside of me. If he's fucking another.

We did talk, but mostly we fucked while together. I still had questions for Jay. I still consider him an enigma of a man. An immortal in the world of mortals. He would live forever in my mind, stout and strong. His hands that roamed my body would be the mold for the hands of the man I would wind up with. I wanted those hands to look and feel just like Jay's. Dangerous game to play I know but the standard had been set. I would not settle for less. And there was no going back.

Everything about his body had meshed so well with mine. The way he fit inside me, the weight of his hard body on top of me. The deep black of his eyes and the green shade too. His smooth black hair and perfect lips. His dark intricate black tattoos I wanted to know more about. Even his fangs. I danced with ideas of him drinking from me again. Hell I want to drink from him. I know the risk of blood borne pathogens and disease but who gives a good God damn. I wanted all of him. I wanted to feel and taste him like he had me.

Did my blood taste good to him? Did he like the way I smelled when overcome with passion and desire. What, overall, did he like best about my body. I wanted to know so I could praise myself on being such a delicatessen for a man like him. I wanted to be more and do more for Jay. I wanted to relinquish myself to his mercy. I wanted the pleasure and the pain. Pain is simply weakness leaving the body. The pain I would feel would make me stronger and I was ready to experience it.

It did not hurt when he bit me. It did not hurt when he pulled the red liquid from my vein. It only intensified my attraction to him, helped the pleasure I was feeling explode into euphoria. I was ready to do it all over again.

I spent more time than I should have reliving my night with Jay. It began to be something I looked forward to in my quite hours. I tried to recall little details about our encounter starting from the moment I first saw him to the very last. Wishing my drunken brain had logged more aspects of the encounter away. I searched those memories with a fine toothed comb. I began to wonder what was real and what was just my illusion. 

Did he really look as good as I recall? Did he do this or did he do that. What did he say then and what was he thinking when he looked at me that way. Dissecting every little detail. His memory became more and more fantastical each time it was revived.
Call it a crutch or coping mechanism for experiencing longing, call it whatever you want. Unhealthy maybe. It is neither here nor there but it must be recognized as a disfunction of sorts.

I am capable of functiong quite well in a nonfunctional environment. In fact I thrive. I knew nothing else.
So here I am, again, looking up at the stars with a drink in my hand wondering.... was he thinking of me too?