I was going to update the site with a post on my current state of relationships but it’s too complicated at the moment. Some soul-searching is in need. Instead, I decided to release one more chapter to the book. This is the 7th chapter, titled Kelly. Please feel free to rate this post (and others), share with friends and leave some comments.
Every soul serves a purpose. The people you meet in passing make significant differences if you allow them. Recently, my life has done a 180 back from the death sentence that is domestication right up to a living, breathing, bar-attending 22-year-old. As crushing as the revival felt, it offered up plenty to learn and plenty of people to learn from.
Allowing myself to become social on a regular basis from what I’ve been bred to do over the last year was a swift change. It was like I picked up where I left off from high school (minus the medications) and I loved it. Suddenly, women became more beautiful and curvaceous, and men became bigger dogs I could share my womanizing ways with. My “game” (a term coined by my vivacious generation that is a loose interpretation of social charm) was still on point.
The first night on the prowl, all it took was a smoke break and a crack about fighting for gay rights to have the ladies pea-cocking all in a row, lining up to ease my tension. Kelly caught my eye, swigging beer like a father teaches their son to while working on beat up Fords in their garage. Yes, Kelly had a fire about her that was intimidating and challenging. A road-block of a woman just waiting for someone to come along and dare to crash into her. She seemed like the obvious choice of the night because for once, I wanted to work for it.
We shared smiles and I offered her a cigarette to which she placed in her lips and motioned for a light, all in silence. Something told me at that moment that this was turning into an effortless notch. Kelly was hardened alright, but she was taking a night off from the life of destitute roughness and looking for something of worrisome, meaningless fun. This was something I truly hadn’t experienced since high school so, since nostalgia was already on my mind, we remained waist deep in the night.
Kelly wasn’t from around here, so we accepted the fact that our paths may never cross again. Though she surprisingly disregarded that fact later on in the evening when she begged for me to visit her. This new enlightenment on our current situation made me halt when she requested we retreat together until her departure in the morning. She had no intentions on ending this in the morning and that visual enveloped deeper as last call rang closer.
In a panic I joked about visiting this stranger thousands of miles. All I had intended to do was end this evening early and let her be on her way back home to whatever her life contained in the morning; also hoping to end it with a slight tinge of self-respect. Kelly seemed set on making sure that didn’t happen.
She begged and pleaded in a way the went from flattering to desperate, which somehow made it easier to gather my decency and send her home with her friends where she remained much safer.
Kelly still calls, curious to test the cynicism which she continues to evoke. She knows what she’s doing and loves it, but I on the other hand want no part of it. Oh Kelly, someday you will find your vagina toting Zack Morris but, it will not be me.