On Saturday morning, Z and I made breakfast and decided to go to Thrift Town. I don’t think I realized it then, but the world around me looked so novel; the street where we got coffee even, everything had a glow to it, the mysterious and comforting feeling of being exactly where you want to be. The leaves were falling, the sun cast a light yellow over everything. The chill in the air made me feel cozy. And best of all, I had a friend to keep me company, to do whatever the fuck we wanted to do.
So we spiked our lattes with kaluha, and went to the thrift store. Afterwards we embarked on a journey to a porn shop to acquire nude magazines for crafting up naughty post cards.
Our plan that evening was to go out dancing with his friend, but, already being cozy on the couch, we decided to stay in. We had dinner with Kim and Todd that night, and they left together, making me feel a little sad. I think I also started to feel a little weird when I realized I wanted to be closer to Z, to be able to hug him and kiss him in front of others, but felt restrained.
Sitting on my couch with Z, I looked at him and told him that I felt a little sad. He asked me why. I gave him a long-winded explanation and managed to rationalize through what I was feeling.
I couldn’t flat out say it, but I knew a big part of why I felt sad was because he was going to be leaving the next day– and I wasn’t sure if I was going to see him again.
We spent the rest of the night entwined in each other, me laying on his lap while he wrote postcards to his friends; him laying on my lap while I sorted through music.
I was curating a playlist of songs that I used to like in high school and college. We smoked a blunt he rolled and I was feeling a strange mix of hopeful yet wistful. Going through the songs, we’d talk about music and eventually got on the topic of theramins, which arose from me putting on Motion Picture Soundtrack by Radiohead.
He started talking about The Octopus Project, and I became immediately excited. He told me a humorous story about a time he saw them in Seattle and found himself to be the only person dancing in the crowd. He was noticed by the band and given a free drink, then managed to climb up on stage and got a group hug from them. We wondered when they were going to play next; and it was then that I noticed that they had come out with a new album.
“This is it,” I said. “We have arrived!”
An entire album to listen to together, a new experience. As I listened I wrote little notes on my phone, or had my eyes closed, or had my hand in his. Bliss.
Two Nights Later
We’re laying in the bed of a couple I am housesitting for. It’s dark.
I tell him, “There’s a song on that new album that reminds me of you.”
“Oh yeah? Which?”
“Mendoza”
“Which part of the lyrics?”
“I don’t know the lyrics,” I said, “It’s the melody.”
Pause.
“Well? You just gonna say that and not sing it for me?”
I pause. “Um, I know this is irrational but that’s something i’m terrified of doing.”
He started to kiss me, feeling my fear. My body felt stiff; all I could think about was how terrified I was to fuck up the melody if I tried. My throat felt scratchy.
It felt like forever, but it was probably only ten minutes. I agreed to hum the melody with our lips pressed together. When I did it, I slowly realized how easy it was, and that I was overreacting. When I finished, he kissed my face and said, “You have a beautiful voice. Thank you for doing that. I’m so proud of you. I would’ve waited all night if I had to.”
Then he started to make up lyrics to the melody I hummed, singing little bits about us liking each other and filling in the sounds with imaginary words. It was kind of amazing to surprise myself, to feel like I could actually overcome a fear that was so strong. And it really wasn’t that bad.
I emailed the octopus project for the lyrics to that song. I’m really curious about them.