The party on Friday night was in a hotel beside the freeway that had seen its better days. They- whoever they were- had a block of rooms on an upper floor, and I doubt there were twenty other rooms occupied in the whole place. It was dancers on their night off, plus their friends, and others in a cast of random characters. Mark and I got there at about 12:30am and were immediately met by my new coworker Chanelle, who I hit it off immediately with on my first day of work. Chanelle- who came home with me after my second shift, got high with us, and had some fun- was already high, and looking for more fun when we got there.
I knew very few of them, though I knew their kind very well. Sometimes, I'm part of their kind. When you're working, you're earning, and on a night off, you let loose a little bit...or a lot.
I'd been there before, with the dimly lit hallway punctuated by the sharp light coming through each cracked door, propped open. Music hummed from different rooms, as well as incessant knocking on doors that got closed, both intentionally and not. Mark was enthralled by the partiers, especially Chanelle, who was equally enthralled by him. They disappeared while I went for a drink, leaving me alone even as I made conversation with strangers. I called Shari to come join us, its the kind of thing we used to attend together when we both worked at the same club. I just stepped back into that life a bit, and even being there with a guy, I wanted the security of having her there with me, too. As it turns out, I barely saw her until the next morning.
*
The time compresses late at night, with several hours spent among a group of rooms, among the same people, in various states of consciousness. I had sex with Mark, but then lost track of him. I wandered, through shots and powder, among people that I recognized and who became instant disposable friends in that way that party-goers become as the hours pass. I found Mark in a room, fucking Chanelle; I turned around and left, seeking another substance and another small group of people. I later found him, and he lied about where he'd been and with who, so we fought, viciously. I did something stupid, and maybe an hour later we made up and had our fun, then fought again, this time fueled by more than just anger. We didn't speak for an entire day after that, and I eventually fell asleep with Chanelle, awaking to an empty room and one barely coherent housekeeping staffer pulling the bedding off the floor and into her rolling hamper.
I found Shari and we went home; we were going to get showered, and then go to the State Fair for the day with a group of friends. On our way home, we found out that my boss' wife- also my co-worker Greg's mother- had a massive stroke and was near death. She decided to go on to the fair, and I went to the hospital to meet Greg and his dad, both in shock. I left them there and resumed my plans that night, as the bar where I work, which they owned, was closed due to the family emergency.
*
Late that night, maybe around 1am, as I was heading home I stopped at Greg's when I saw a light on. He lives alone, and my phone was dead; I thought he could use the comfort of somebody looking in on him. Ever since I started working with him, we had a good relationship. One night after work, we had sex, and a few times after that it had happened again. He was my friend, I cared for him, he was sometimes more than that. He let me in and cried his eyes out. That night we had sex twice and fell asleep sometime in the wee hours. The next morning his estranged wife and daughter came by to check on him, to offer sympathy. I walked through half naked, hungover and unwitted. His wife stared daggers through me, I felt like a meddling slut, even though I'm not, they're separated. She looked at me as if to say "oh, it's her, huh?". It was, as it had been before and probably would be again.
I didn't want any more trouble for Greg, I just wanted to be there for him, and I was. As far as the sex goes, I don't know if I manipulated him, or likewise, or both, or if it was just natural. It was natural to me, with or without manipulation, which might say something not so great about my nature. The wife I can handle, the kid affected me more. Do I have a problem?
*
I made up with Mark and met him to go watch football. We had sex, cleaned up again, then went to the bar. When we don't fight, we're great together. He makes me feel good, like I'm where the fun is, and like I'm the magnet that belongs attached to him. He likes to put his hands in places that aren't altogether appropriate for public places, and every time, I'm somehow helpless to be appalled, or to stop him. He is magnetism. We argue and then we make up. We fuck and I only want more fucking. I can live with the scorching, but do not put out this fire. He has a belief that he'll always get what he wants; if it's me he wants, then he might always be right.
He's dismissive and arrogant, and sometimes I get so mad I don't want him anywhere near my sight. I've been physically violent with him once. I've been physically and sexually attracted to him wholly and without exception for nearly three weeks straight. Maybe the good and the bad are symptoms of the same phenomenon. Maybe the bad and the good are of equal, intense, extreme. Maybe it's a test.
No, the good is definitely better. The bad just takes its toll. We fought on the phone today, we made up by text an hour later.
*
Tonight he's coming over. I won't be able to resist whatever happens, I know and look forward to this. I hope to avoid any bad for another day. I'm on a runaway train, fearful and dreadful of the dark tunnels I'm plunged into, but delighted to have the butterflies in my belly go crazy with each wild swing.
Greg will call, as he did today. I'll go see him, and comfort him the only way I know how, as I did today. His mother passed, I can't make it go away, but I can make it better, he tells me that I do when we're together.
And then I will deal with Mark again.
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