It’s safe to say that the yellow and brown stains on the sheets and towels in this mountain hotel are the effects of karma from all of the hotel towels I have ejaculated into in my day.
I always wondered if my mom knew when I threw my cum rag down with all the laundry. I kept the thing under my bed for the formidable Cinemax years and tried to pass it off with the rest of my t-shirts once a week.
What did my mom actually know all those years?
It’s strange to think that I was growing in her stomach at one point in the real timeline of life.
All I’ve ever wanted was to have everything. Anyone that told me I couldn’t have everything was an enemy to my life objective. Which is why I’ve spent a great part of my life alone – living alone, working alone, and thinking very much alone.
But I’ve dated.
And they would usually start off alright.
Then things would show up that I didn’t like too much. And I had no patience to see them through.
Every time I broke up with a girl my dad would give me a call and tell me, “Son, you need to learn about commitment. You’re never going to find the ‘perfect girl.’ It’s all work. And it’s always about compromise.”
My mom too. She’d tell me that my expectations were too high and that I was unrealistic.
“There’s someone out there for me mom and I’m gonna know her when I see her.” She was always rooting for me.
And I’ve had no shortage of great girlfriends over the years. God knows I’ve put in a good effort. But there was always a feeling or a voice that said this cannot be it.
Sometimes you get good sex, sometimes you can talk on the phone for hours, sometimes you like the same movies and food, sometimes it’s possible to have the same values, and maybe other times you feel like they’ve got your back when times get tough.
And sometimes you have everything, I thought.
But here’s where the story gets real.
I can do good with the best of them. When things are rolling I’m all in. But when things take a dip I’m looking for the first ride out. I don’t like flaws. I broke up with a girl in 6th grade because she tripped while walking in the hallway. I couldn’t even look at her anymore. Imperfections unearth judgments in my head that would crush a person’s soul. So I’ve done well to convince myself that everything actually just meant all the good things.
I figured out a good life. Travel, work for myself, flirt with pretty girls, drive to the ocean to watch the surf, eat a lot of eggs, box in the mornings, and all other things good.
Then this little pain in the ass came along and when I saw her I knew it was her because I could taste her lips before I ever got close to them. When she turned around I wanted to give her everything.
“I like you,” I said.
“I just thought of all the ways I am going to fuck this up,” she replied.
She led with her flaws. Spared me all the sweet smiles and stories of travel and saving lives and we kicked it off with our abandoned childhoods and doubts about love. She pushed me to accept her for who she was. Made sure I wasn’t falling for something I wanted her to be. For two years she told me that she didn’t want to date me. That we were better as friends. That it would never work out between us. That she knew how I was with women. That she wasn’t ready to settle down. But I knew what she was really asking of me.
I did whatever it took to stay a part of her life. Because every song I listened to was written about us.
The truth is I dreamed of it with her since day 1. She tells me she did too, but I think it happened for me first. I dreamed of this perfect thing between us that was untouchable. And when the call finally came, when I closed my eyes in my apartment and laid on the floor holding my chest wondering if what she had just said actually happened I thought I finally knew everything.
But it wasn’t until last night – after we’ve been apart for weeks with terrible wifi, 16 hour time difference, and 7,000 miles of ocean between us – when we talked about some of the most intense and unforgiving truths about who we are and what we’ve done that I knew what everything meant.
It’s not just about the good anymore. It’s so much more than that. It’s about the truth, a town we can finally call home. About her knowing that I’m not going anywhere. That we are safe. That the run is over. Whatever troubles we come across I want her to know I’ll eat that shit for breakfast.