Tryst: When You Want What You Can't Have [Blake]

Chapter 3 - The Taste of Caramel

I pull out of the driveway seeking a coffee fix before facing my ex-girlfriend. Josh’s words didn’t sit well with me. I thought I could handle this. I thought it didn’t matter any more. I mean, I have worked so hard becoming stone cold that I feel like I might have been preparing myself for this exact moment this whole past year. 

Tanya was always a cold hard bitch, taking advantage of my obsession with her. Granted, she felt the same. The relationship was volatile, tumultuous, and for lack of a better word: passionate. But it wasn’t good for either of us. It was a type of passion that was unhealthy, and awkwardly competitive. Sex was driven by arguments, and like an addiction I couldn’t get enough, but Tanya…she got sick of it quicker then I did. She gave up. She told me I wasn’t what she was looking for. She had the audacity that I was too much. Bullshit! She made me into this chaotic, attention seeking puppy, only throwing me a bone when she thought I deserved it. I know that all now.

We met at a photo shoot, and it was as typical as it sounds. She looked hot, and I was a dummy. She was more established in her career than I was at the time, but regardless I was chosen to be the guy cradling her nearly naked body for a Prada ad. She reluctantly accepted my offer for coffee, and after coffee she invited me to her apartment, and well, the rest is history. 

I can’t remember a time we weren’t frustrated with each other, even in the beginning, but it didn’t matter. We always ended up in the same place —her bed, or mine. She was my first love, and that is how I thought it worked. Until that fateful day she said she was bored with it, and had confessed she wanted to see other people. I don’t know if she cheated, nor do I care at this point, but she did start seeing her manager shortly after. I was heartbroken, seeking to feel the same heart pounding adrenaline rush that Tanya always gave me. 

I never found it. But I have come pretty close to it in small doses via dating girls around the Los Angeles area. It seems I could always find the hint of that rush during late nights tangled amongst another girl. The rush is brief, but it is always enough to satisfy me, at least until the next day. I am junkie for wanting to feel passion, adrenaline, and this indescribable rush that releases all this tense judgment I feel for the world. 

I blame Tanya for my lack of life perspective and wonder when I will ever regain my balance. I feel I only know one way to love, and I can’t help but think it’s wrong. I am waiting for that moment for things to feel right. I am rolling with the punches here. God, help me.

So, seeing Tanya feels strange. What could she possibly say? We dated for so long, and granted I only mention the crazy times, there were good times too, of long talks, or strolls on the Santa Monica Pier, and I bought her flowers and whispered sweet nothings to her on countless occasions. The foundation for love was there, it just wasn’t enough. Another thing I realize now. That being said, why now? What does she have to say?

She’d be my kryptonite if I ever had one. The only girl to have any power over me. The one I might still care about, simply by default. I want her happy, but I don’t want her with me. She destroyed me when she broke my heart, and for once I feel my life, and my career are stable. She’d be the Jenga piece to cause the tower to fall.

When I admit that to myself that is when Josh’s words echo in my memory. Does she really need me? I don’t know, but I shouldn’t care, but dammnit, I am curious.

Curiosity killed the cat, dude.

I clench my steeringwheel tight, shaking my head furiously as I park on the street beside “Lestat’s”, a coffee place I haven’t frequented in a long time, since I dropped out of UCLA actually. In automated grunt escapes me at the thought, from failed girlfriend, to failed education…who the hell am I?