Stalling Motion

We checked into a hotel. Actually, I believe it was a motel, but we weren’t worried about décor. No, we were only worried about a bed and shower, of course. As my memory serves me, without fail, the name has slipped my mind. I am sure he could tell you the name.

That night we made love – repeatedly. Sleep was unnecessary when my lifeline was him. We enjoyed each other thoroughly both inside and out. I never wanted to sleep when I was with him. Always afraid of closing my eyes and fearful I would wake only to find this was all a dream. That he was a dream. That what we had didn’t really exist, but was more of a mirage in my mind.

Eventually morning did come and he was still there. We were still there, together in our bliss. Our day began with a cocktail of sorts as we rode off to the next theme park, which was Busch Gardens. Oh we had a blast. Ecstatic was I to see Elvis had a love of roller coasters comparative to mine. We spent the day going on ride after ride; sometimes we rode the same ride multiple times, while captured in each other’s stride.

Whenever we were together I was always amazed how we didn’t tear at each other in the company of others. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely contemplated it numerous times. One look at him and I wanted to ravish him. I know he felt the same because his stare had a look of famine.

He was the one person I could never find a fault with. Perfection, he was the epitome of this. Whereas I never saw myself as perfection. I dreamt of it, but felt I would never attain it. I never got irritated with him and his ways, which was great because we never wasted a second on an argument, but I often wonder what sex would have been like if we did – since it was already mind blowing.

Eventually our adventure in the theme park came to end as night began to fall. We needed to make our way back. Monday was arriving quickly, which meant early morning classes for me. Followed by working the evening shift at the restaurant. Knowing Elvis would be at work with me helped me get through class. Otherwise, it was pure torture on days when we didn’t work together.

We had many trips to Disney World and even frequented Universal Studios. Halloween Horror night at Universal Studios was a favorite of ours. I believe that year we went up there twice in the month of October. One of the trips I drank entirely way too much, but blamed me being deathly ill on food poisoning from pizza we both ate. Elvis, always the gentleman, who ate the same pizza as I never said otherwise.  

I drank much more than any human should attempt at drinking. Luckily I had my Angel in disguise with me. While I was sick throwing up in the middle of the night he was there to take care of me. The only crappy part about this was I was scheduled to work the next day. The thought of waiting tables made my head spin and stomach churn even more. I was doomed. Thought death was on the horizon that night as we all do after a severe drinking binge.

Elvis was my doctor, putting cool compresses on my forehead. Rubbing my back when needed. Fetching water to soothe my dry mouth and avoiding my attempts at dehydration. The next day I called out sick from work while still lying on the hotel bathroom floor. He had to drive us home, which I was forever grateful for. Deep down, even though I was miserably sick, I was thankful at the chance of spending more time with him.

Time was something we would have an abundance of. As our relationship progressed I became more engrossed in my love for Elvis. Making Elvis more of my world. Something I vow never to do.

One day after work Elvis decided my car needed a musical pick-me-up. We went shopping for a sub-woofer and an amp. Eventually we found a place selling what he was looking for. I, of course, had no idea what was good or what we were really “looking” for.  He purchased a Kicker sub-woofer and a Clarion amp.

Next on our list of things to do was get the sub-woofer and amp installed. As fate would have it, Elvis’ friend, Damion, was an expert at installing this stuff. We headed over to his house. Installation was completed within three hours. My car now had base. Not the obnoxious rattling base, but the sweet vibration to soothe the soul base.

It was hard to tell who enjoyed the fresh sound of music coming out of the speakers in my car more, Elvis or I. We will call it a tie, an even one.

Over the course of our relationship we gave each other gifts. I purchased him a Movado watch, and he gave me his heart, amongst other items, but the material items did not mean as much.

My mom knew this too. Did I mention that my mom and Elvis hit it off from the beginning. They loved each other. Sometimes I felt like they liked each other a little too much, but then again that was just my insecurities. Elvis would call and talk to my mom. He was always asking her for advice. I never saw my mother interact with any of my boyfriends the way she did with Elvis.

She treated him like he was her son. In fact, I believe she felt like he was her son. She loved him. This made it that much more effortlessly to get lost in my love for Elvis.

As inevitibility goes, it was bound to happen. I remember the day it happened. Like it was yesterday! This plays in my mind over and over, unfortunately, without any control. This was the day I realized I was in too deep.

A few days after we started dating we went to my house after work. Though, this was not to meet and greet with Elvis and my mother because it was after work, which means it was late meaning my mother was asleep. I unlocked the door, turned off the alarm, and inside we went straight to my room. Once in the room, we ended up getting caught up in the moment. Actually, I believe we were caught up in the moment when walking into the house because I forgot to lock the front door. Well, a few minutes later we heard a noise. Then the sound of my ex’s voice, Jason, yelling my name along with some other profanities of the degrading nature while slamming doors on the inside of my house. Jason bombarded past the front door without so much as a hesitation for knocking and literally flew inside of my mother’s house and into my room. Luckily, Elvis was quick in his thought and fled to my closet. Jason must have been watching us as we arrived home because he kept screaming, “where is he?” “I’m gonna kill ‘em,” “where is he?”

Panic flooded me. Even though we had been broken up for over a month now I was still panicked. A flow of thoughts over took my mind. What would happen? Would they fight? What about my mom – who was sound asleep upstairs? Who had no idea that 1) Elvis was here, 2) who Elvis was other than from me talking about him, and 3) she despised Jason.

It did not take long for my mother to be woken by the commotion. She immediately ran down stairs and saved the day as Jason was getting ready to open the closet door. He did get the closet door open, but didn’t get a punch or a word in. My mother yanked him out of my room (despite her being of petite stature and Jason around 5’ 11”) and out of the house telling him if he ever stepped foot on her property the cops would be called. But, before she did this Elvis and Jason made eye contact.

We were never interrupted by Jason again as he joined the military. For a few months Jason would send me pictures and letters. He even sent me his dog tags, but then he stopped communicating with me, I assume, because the communication was not returned.

After Jason left I introduced my mom and Elvis, as it was the proper thing to do. Even my mom took to liking him at that first introduction, though it was brief introduction as introductions go. We, Elvis and I, joked about this “event” often. Relief engulfed me that he was not turned off by this. I was completely mortified thinking he wasn’t going to want anything to do with me because he was a pretty mellow person and this was too much drama in such a short time. This added to my love for him. Love just kept building faster than I could breathe.

Our love was surreal – almost like it was out of a fairy-tale. At least it felt that way for me. I am pretty sure he would say the same. I couldn’t get enough of him. Wanted him by my side twenty-four hours a day eight days a week. Yes, I wanted to add time because I never felt like there was enough of it with him. We did everything together.

We spent the summer being inseparable, random adventures at every turn, watching movies, working, and me attending classes at Broward Community College.

I remember studying in Elvis’ room, while he was working on his music. Tingling sensations would take my body hostage when I watched his fingers glide across the keyboard producing sweet sounds to soothe my core.

I remember the day his computer arrived. The big ol’ cow decorated Gateway box. Elvis was beyond ecstatic. Box was opened, contents removed, and within in seconds the computer was set-up. We sat, in silence, listening to the hum of the computer booting up. It wasn’t too long after the computer arrived that Elvis got a software program where he could create music, rather, where he could create the instrumentals of music.

I could tell how proud he was of himself with every creation. What he didn’t know was how proud I was of him! I should have been more open with him. More honest with myself.

He would strip songs of their original instrumentals and pair them with his design. More often than not I found myself appreciating his remix much more than the original version of the song. After a while it became that I couldn’t even imagine the song in its original version because his was so much better. Elvis was the Albert Einstein of music. How he did it I have no idea. I cannot even fathom how he could hear a song and think that this instrument at this cord should be placed here and replicated here and looped there. Above all things, I was more proud of him because he was self-taught.

I still listen to his first creations. Probably listen to them about once a week. Memories flood, along with tears, my soul.

One of the best things about our relationship was when we were together it was like nothing in the world existed except for us. The two of us made up the world. We were also always together. There was hardly a time we weren’t together unless one of us was working and the other was not, but we would always meet up after work.

Actually, it was almost like I moved in to his room after we first started dating. I had a toothbrush there. Clothing that I kept there. I rarely went home anymore. He would iron my shirt for work because our shirts had to be starched and ironed in order to stay wrinkle free for the evening. He would even go to my doctor appointments with me. We didn’t really go out to clubs because that was not his scene, but occasionally I would go with friends. After the club I would head over to his house.

I am not really sure how it was brought up, but I am sure he could tell you. We decided we were going to Disney World for the weekend. Well, we were leaving on a Saturday and returning on Sunday. We left early Saturday morning before daylight broke. Drove up there, which took us about 3 and half hours, possibly a little less. We got high on the drive-up and were drinking some liquor I had taken from my mom’s bar stock in the house. We had tequila and rum.

There was never a dull moment filled with silence on the ride to Disney World. We talked, laughed, and fondled each other the entire ride. Remember how our lips acted as magnets, well, this was true for our bodies as well. When we were in the same room, or vicinity, we were always never quite close enough. A part of ourselves had to be touching a part of the other. Almost as if we were each other’s life-line.

We arrived without having a hotel reservation or anything. We were living in the moment and enjoying all of them. It felt good. It felt like I was actually living. I am sure he would say the same. It felt like I was never truly living until I met him. A flood of emotions always overcame me like a tidal wave pulling me under and over when I thought of him or was around Elvis. Emotions so unexpected, beautiful, but almost deadly to my being Of course, this is deadly in a pleasant way – romantic to say the least.

We decided to explore Disney first. This particular day the lines weren’t long at all. Which was shocking since it was the weekend. Or maybe I was so consumed by him I didn’t notice the passing of time.

When standing in line we would be entwined in one another oblivious to those around us. Ah, the memories of our bodies touching make me tingle inside. All over, from head to toe, inner to outer, I could feel him.

We spent the day adventuring around Disney World and making several retreats back to my car so we could drink – sipping, or gulping, alcohol straight from the bottle. The windows on the car quickly became laced in steam, which was a mixture of our love and smoke from blunts. We were so high, high on life, amongst other things. Moments of laughter erupted unexpectedly, but all in moments of perfection. We would laugh at ourselves constantly. Eventually the day of rides and roller coasters ended. Night had fallen and our lust for another had grown wildly intoxicating. We needed to find ourselves, or lose ourselves, to each other.

I never wanted to leave his side. I wanted to stay enveloped in his warmth, his love for eternity. At that moment I knew I wanted him for the rest of my life. The problem was me. I have a whole slew of inner demons attacking my thought process.

We eventually did get out of bed. But we slept cradled in each other’s arms. No feeling can compare to that. Words can barely describe or create a picture of how it feels, felt, to be cradled in his embrace. He was, is, my Angel in disguise.

We woke and went to get some breakfast. Actually, it was a breakfast sub at a nearby sub shop. That was the best breakfast sub that ever graced my mouth. I am not sure if it was because the blissful feelings enthralling me or if it was really that good. But, I will say this, every time we ate there I still had those incredible feelings of satisfaction. But, again, it could have been the company.

I ate slowly purposefully. I wanted the moments we shared to last. The time to freeze, but our hearts continuing to beat in a perfect harmony. If only he knew, knew how much I wanted him. Knew how much I needed him. Knew how thankful I was for him. If only.

I wanted to share those thoughts with him, but couldn’t. My past subjected me to be closed with my feelings. Don’t give too much because you will always get burned. Nothing in life is that perfect. Nothing in life is that easy. Everything has a price and for this I thought the price was my heart. I didn’t want that to break. It couldn’t break! It hadn’t and it won’t! I have been guarded with ease until I met my Angel in disguise. This was my train of thought. In retrospect I probably should have shared this with him, but I was young… and we all know that means a naïve know-it-all.

After we ate, we headed back to his house. I had to face his mother, Priscilla, which was awkward for me. I have never spent the night at a guy’s house on the first “date,” nor had I slept with a guy on the first “date.” There is a first for everything and, honestly, I am glad he was my first for that. His mother was very nice, but I could tell she had reserved feelings about me. Though, she grew to like me, but not love me. I believe she loved his ex-girlfriend prior to me and in her mind compared me to her, but this train of thought could have all been a part of my insecurities.

In any event, she was very nice to me. She made me feel comfortable. Like this was where I belonged. I have never felt that before or still to this day with any other person’s I was dating mother.

I was pleased, and relieved, that it went smoothly. However, all I wanted to do was kiss Elvis. To be wrapped in his warmth. Being in his embrace was never close enough. In his arms I was still too far away. Though, we eventually had to part ways. I needed to return home. I knew my mother would be freaked, but I lied the night before and told her I was going to be hanging out with some friends and would probably sleep over one of their homes. She believed me without question. I had never really given her reason not to believe me. I was always honest with her, even when it hurt. I just wish I could have been honest with myself.

I was sad to leave him, but knew I would see him in a few short hours. We had work together again that evening. My mother greeted me as soon as arrived home. She instantly knew something was up. I had the “look.” I threw caution to the wind and told her, everything. Luckily she was not mad, but was more intrigued. She had never heard me gush about a guy like I was before.

After we talked I went to my room, to sit, to ponder, and to write. I wrote so many poems about him, but those have all been discarded. I sat, in my room, in the dark, day dreaming of the life I wanted with him. And we had only been on a single “date,” if you want to even call it that, but I did and I do.

I knew I was in trouble. Actually, I knew I was in trouble the moment we spoke to each other, but now that I had felt his embrace I was eternally his, even if he didn’t want me eternally.

The day passed at an extremely, almost unbearable, slow rate. Getting ready for work quickly became the highlight of my day. I was overjoyed with the prospect of seeing Elvis, hearing his soulful voice vibrate my insides and make my heart sing. Finally, it was time for work!

That night at work I was extremely giddy. My face had a perma-grin plastered across it. People were wondering what was up, but customers were delighted to be greeted with an upbeat smile. We did the same thing as the previous night, minus the stop at the gas station or the trip to the convenience store.

Conversations existed flowing and meaningful, considerable with a thirst for wanting to know more and more about Elvis, and him wanting to know more about I, Anabelle. I knew he loved me as much as I loved him. No question in my mind. The only question I had, that I always had, was “how long would he love me, how long until he discards of me?”

See, I didn’t have a horrible childhood, but I did have a childhood void of a father. A father who was absent. I never really knew why until I was much older. He was in prison. See, my father was a brilliant man, but had problems, stemming from his own childhood. This led him down a different path in life. Not too mention my own mother’s problems in her childhood, which branched off into her being a mother. Don’t get me wrong she wasn’t a bad mother. My mother, Anne, was and is very loving, understanding, and also brilliant, but also very set in her ways and world. She provided for me exceptionally well, always making sure I had everything, but I also got to see my mother’s hardships in life and more importantly in love. I vowed to never have those same hardships. To me the only way to not have those hardships was to never be dependant upon someone, even for love. No, especially for love.

I removed those thoughts from my mind momentarily and focused on him. His eyes were a dark shade of brown that shined with the passion he felt for me. They always put me in a trance when I would look at him. He was about 6’ tall, broad shoulders, not too muscular, but not flabby, perfect creamy skin smooth as silk, strong hands but soft touch, overall his physical appearance, in my eyes, was over a ten. He was off the charts in looks. Oh, and his lips, luscious. Full, but not too full to the point it feels like you are kissing a brick wall. No, his lips were full and soft, and when we would kiss it felt like I was in heaven caressing the clouds.

When we would talk I couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to stop. Not because the conversation was boring, but because I didn’t want to continue interrupting him with kiss after kiss. His lips had some sort of magnetic force pull with mine. His being the positive force and mine being the negative force with a yearning for uniting beyond our control.

I don’t how it happened, or when it happened, but I bet he could tell you. I fell in love-instantly. No hesitation. No second guessing. Just pure, raw emotion flowing from mind, body, and soul. I’m pretty sure it was the same for him.

 When we met it was the summer of ’98 and I just graduated from high school. He was a year older than me and went to a different high school. Shortly before school ended, I broke up with a boyfriend, Jason, I had been dating for over a year.

 Before school ended, and I broke it off with Jason, I got a job at a nearby restaurant, as a hostess. He, Elvis, also known as my angel in disguise, was working there as a bar-back.

 I believe he was working there before me. I’m not sure how much longer before, but I’m sure he could tell you.

 In fact, I don’t even think I noticed him until I started waiting tables, which was in the earlier part of the summer. All I know is we connected somehow, some way a conversation sparked. The night I fell for him plays in my mind like a broken record of the good kind. He asked me if I wanted to “hang-out” with him. Of course I said, “yes!” all the while thinking he was crazy for even wondering if I “wanted” to.

 I remember getting off work and on the way to his house stopping for gas. I was driving him home. He was car-less at the time because he wrecked his “88 BMW that I only saw in pictures. I believe the way the story goes is he was driving to pick his mother up from work and had a little too much of the stuff some may refer to as liquid courage and crashed. Crashed is putting it mildly, more like totaled his car and ended up having to pay the city for the damage he caused. But, my memory doesn’t always serve me correctly so I could be off just a tad.

 At this time I was driving a red, ’85 Honda CRX. We had the windows down, sun roof back, and TKA “Louder than Love” blaring when we pulled into the gas station. Back then freestyle was mainly what I listened to. I got out, paid, and pumped, which was fine with me because back then, and now, I was on this “I am woman hear me roar” kick.

 He watched me. Actually, he devoured me, several times, with his eyes.  I remember the blast of emotions I felt from that look of hunger, desire, and yearning.  My insides were all tangled around my heart ready to give myself to him, always and forever, at the breath of one kiss.

 The click of the pump informing me my gas tank was full pulled us out of our love trance. Back to reality, but this reality was one I could manage or get lost in. I hopped back into the car, fastened my seatbelt and looked at him. We didn’t say a word to each other, but our eyes spoke of our hearts.

 On the drive we talked, we laughed, and we teased. The sexual tension was burning the air, and my insides. Finally we arrived at his house. His room had its own entrance separate from the main part of the house. We walked around back and were inside within seconds. Not another word was spoken unless you count the melodies sounded from our bodies singing in perfect harmony.

 He knew how to kiss. His touch was warm. Our bodies were yearning with a lust that could raise the dead. He laid us on his bed. Never interrupting the flow of passion. His hand slowly worked at my buttons. Body freed, his hand slid over my breasts, caressing, cupping, and teasing.

 All this passion was soon interrupted when he was about to remove my jeans. We quickly realized neither of us had a condom and at this time I wasn’t on birth control, so foregoing any protection was out of the question. Clothing back on and out the door we flew. We zoomed down the street to the nearest convenience store. In he went, and was back in the car within seconds that felt like an eternity.

 We picked up right where we left off. Clothing was off in a matter of seconds. He teased and pleased parts of my body I didn’t even know existed. There was no need for guiding. He just knew. Our bodies gave way to the euphoric pleasures of the night. We laid there, in the morning hours, holding each other.

Well, as you will see (read) I love to write and read. Invigorated is how I feel when I do both. There is something that excites me when I see words, hear words, and feel words. I am allowed to escape and journey with words, whether they are my own or someone elses. Words capture life. Words capture pain. Words capture the obvious, and sometimes the not so obvious. Words are more than words.

I have another blog, Unsystematic Wanderings, which captures my poetry and art. Please stop over there and check it out.

This blog will be used to purge some stuff from my mind that doesn’t always fit perfectly into a poetry. Like my stories, stories of love, stories of mistrust, stories of adventure, stories of life in general. Some stories will be fabricated, some will be raw with truth. In any event, I hope you enjoy all.

I look forward to writing for you and learning from you.

Peace, Love, and Writing

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