Brand None

I thought you hated me
I thought maybe
It hurt too much to say
What you needed to say to me

But another sun entered your sky

What happens to love when
You find a new glow again
Does it die and whither then
When you let it grow with Gwen

It can’t simply disappear

It gets transferred to pain
Old memories a stain
Daunting feelings can strain
But, I won’t breathe in vain

You don’t deserve my tenderness

I deserve love
Even though
It wont be yours

You gave up on us
Before we took
A real chance

But I’ll be happy again
One day,
Without you

I was still tired from the night before. I don’t usually stay up until 9am the next day but it’s been different these past few weeks. There’s a constant flow of cocaine and alcohol and everyone’s doing it. At least that’s what I tell myself.

My friend Kaitlyn came down from Connecticut Phil’s BBQ. She brought her new roommates and another friend, I didn’t know them and to be honest I had no interest in getting to know them. I just don’t fit into their puzzle.

There are about 50 people crowded in Phil’s backyard in Bushwick. A brick wall closes the left side of the yard with old graffiti on it. There’s rusted backyard furniture and a makeshift keg setup that has a jar on top of it asking for a monetary contribution. Phil tells me to put some money in, I told him I was going to but left before that ever happened.

He started texting me around 4pm. “Come to Brass Monkey.” I told him maybe, that I might swing by tonight but that I was busy for now. That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to drop him flirtatious texts as I slowly made my way over to him.

I look around at Kaitlyn, at Phil and everyone else in the backyard. I didn’t want to be there. People were smiling and pretending and everything seemed so superficial. I wasn’t sure if I was just in an off mood from getting no sleep the night before, or if I really wasn’t feeling it. It didn’t matter at that point anyway. It was about 8pm and the devil on my shoulder already determined I was going to get out of this.

I grab my bag and chug the rest of my beer. I was gone. I texted Kaitlyn and told her I had gotten sick in the bathroom and that I was going home to get some sleep. “Are you ok? I’m worried,” she wrote. I told her that I was totally fine and just needed to sleep it off.

I go home and change my clothes. I wanted to wear a short dress but couldn’t. I got the most severe sunburn of my life a week and half earlier and remnants of it still made my legs look like Zebra print. I pulled out a low-cut black jumpsuit I hadn’t yet worn. It has a choker neckline and I liked the way it let people know I lived in Brooklyn without muttering a word.

I got on the subway and read through the text exchange leading up to this. We’ve been pinging each other back and forth, off and on for the last 6 hours. He mentioned a few hours ago that Maria was there. Maria was a new girl I met the night before. She’s a lesbian and very beautiful. They both knew I was bisexual and by the looks of it I think he was trying to set the night up for the three of us.

I’m a 5-minute walk away and I can see the Hudson. I never go out in Meatpacking. When I first moved to the city I had a few white trash nights in this part of town. But it was not my go-to. I was out of place here, but I liked the way it made me feel, like all bets were off and it was going to be a crazy night.

I text him, “You still there?” “Yes Coke up here. Brass Monkey. Roll up here. In the meat packing.” OK he was fucked up at this point and must’ve thought I was still in Brooklyn. I tell him I’m here and he says he’s upstairs.

I grab a vodka soda w/ a splash of cranberry as soon as I see the bar. It’s my drink these days because it’s cheap and strong. – the quintessential white girl beverage. I head upstairs, drink in hand, adjust my bodice and turn the corner.

As soon as I see him his face lights up. I probably could have been anyone. As soon as he sees one his “gals” roll up he knows there’s a good chance he’s getting laid. I didn’t care. I show up because I’ve been on a roll lately and I needed to feel reckless like the night before.

He throws his arm around me. He thinks he’s whispering in my ear, but he’s yelling. He says he’s so happy I came out tonight and I am just so cool and that he adores me so much. I know it’s the alcohol talking. He introduces me to his sister, who is also drunk and searching the bar for her missing phone. Then I met his sister’s boyfriend, who is a tall man whose eyes were empty of emotion. Then I look to the right and there’s Maria. She looks great, but she too is loaded and I get the feeling something’s up.

She was off-again-on-again making out with one of his sister’s friends. The woman was married, Maria tells me, and she was being aggressive and dramatic but that she was kind of into that shit. Then he grabs from the left and kisses my cheek. His droopy eyes meet mine and he wants to buy me a drink. I don’t hesitate.

I tell him to order shots. I have a lot of catching up to do to fit into this crowd. My buzz from the BBQ faded away on my commute to the city and I wasn’t about to hang around this place sober.

His arm is around me so tightly that it makes me uncomfortable. I know I would love this if I were the least bit drunk. I take his arm off me and push it away. I try to ask him about his day and his arm comes up around my neck again. It’s getting more difficult to breathe.

Tequila shots. Another vodka soda. Some bantering with Maria and we’re back with Jameson shots. I’m feeling more lit now. His arms are still draped around my shoulders and he whispers in my ear that he wants to take me home and fuck me.

I pull away. I told him what he didn’t want to hear. I told him the same thing he told me two weeks prior. We can’t have a physical relationship, we’re just friends. He didn’t like what I had to say, but even he, in his drunken state, knew that this is the same bullshit he fed me before and now I was dishing it right back.

We drank more. He kissed my cheeks more times than my fingers could count. I told him I needed some air and that we should go to the roof. He looked at his sister, at Maria and they were both occupied. “Great idea” he said. I have a feeling he thought the roof may have had less people. He was dead wrong.

We get to the roof and can hardly edge our way into the crowd. The handsome white men wearing Vineyard Vines tower over him as we weave our way through the ocean of well-to-do young adults. This is hilarious. Someone from Idaho with no sense of direction, a nose ring and dirty white sneakers is on a Meatpacking rooftop with Manhattan’s horniest. I fit in in that respect, but I still don’t belong there. He feels out of place too. I can see it in his face. We can’t find a place to hang so we head back downstairs into the dark.

More drinking. Maybe another round of shots paired with a drink? I’m drunk at this point. I want to flirt with Maria but she’s not around anymore. I look back at him and he says we should go back to his place. I told him we’re just friends and I’d be happy to help him to his Uber, but that I was going home.

I wasn’t fooling anyone, including myself. I wanted to go home with him. I like stumbling into his building off of 44th and 2nd in the wee hours of the morning. Something about joking with his doorman, who knows exactly why I’m here tonight. I’m not the least bit ashamed and to be honest it kind of turns me on.

We never start things off fast. We always sit back and chill on the couch in his living room, already coked up with beers in hand. But this is not one our white nights, which is probably while I’m able to remember things so much clearer. He opens two beers bottles for us and we put our feet up.

so many faces, have kissed a few
sickly woman is foolish because none of them liked you.

different tastes and distinct feelings aside,
they won’t admit to feeling close, sickly pride.

the first one, the one with the hair,
studied somewhere smart, wouldn’t be caught dead here.
initial night was months ago but has happened twice more,
don’t know why i’m doing this, his sense of passion is sore.

the second, there from the start with a heart of gold,
there’s no mental connection, so clueless – just does what he’s told.

next was someone so soft and quiet, i was nervous to move,
way too cautious and vanilla for me, i’ve since removed.
hours of small talk ended in “want to makeout or something?”
went through with it because fuck it and felt nothing.

the fourth is also the most recent,
we’ll get back to him – he’s decent.

the fifth is much more my measure in body and style,
pondered a quickie but actually stayed for a while.
all of the acts my garbage mind has so desired,
played out perfectly, this guy lit my fire.
from the hair pulling and biting to the blow,
to the way he choked me out while exploring below.
told me to turn over and called me a dime,
eyes rolled to the back of my head when his tongue was behind.
just a single night but sometimes there’s drunken texts,
to be honest we should be friends just for the sex.

back to number four because as i mentioned
this motherfucker is the most hungry for attention.
things with him are a little more complex,
i say this reluctantly but i think it’s about more than sex.
i’ve written about him before, my passionate one night stand,
starting to see he’s the most childish 31-year-old man.
he’s fucking someone else i know and we talk about it,
to be real that kind of discussion is my “let’s get off” shit.
He says it’s chill i’m not jealous, that i’m a cool girl,
that my brain is mad od dumb lit and i rock his world.
he invites me over for powder and some loving,
all we do is get into each other’s minds and start fucking.
but when i’m alone i feel the envy creeping in,
i switch that shit off cause there’s no way i’ll let him win.

The way we kissed each other was animalistic yet soft enough to pass for a first kiss at the ripe age of 13. He tenderly gripped my neck, with his other hand clutched to my face gently stroking the contour of my cheek. He pressed his body against mine. Locks of my hair weaved through his embattled fingers and he tugged slightly whenever he’d pull me closer. How can someone who hardly knows you express so much love and affection?

Maybe it was the one too many drinks, or it could have been the blow. I was undeniably captivated by his presence and the way he looked at me. His vibrant green eyes pierced a part of my heart I thought was out commission. His irises glowed, hugged by the warmness of his skin and the darkness that surrounded us in my bed. The moon shined through the window and danced along the peach fuzz on his back as I laid next to him in complete and utter silence, the kind that’s neither awkward nor unwelcome.

I know this doesn’t mean anything. He asked me to breakfast and I said no. This doesn’t mean anything. Please, go home.

I would probably kill myself if my dad dying didn’t make me realize how painful it is for the loved ones we leave behind. I would never ever do that to my mom, or my sisters. What other reasons do I have?

For the first time in my life I can’t see anything in my future. It’s not that I don’t entertain positive possibilities, but, at least for the moment, they seem out of grasp and I’m paralyzed, stuck in my own mind. Should I continue living in this lonely city and maybe find another lonely soul to spend time with? Should I tune everything out and focus on my own transformation and development, hoping for a silver lining?

Should I move back to my hometown? That would be failure at its finest. The girl who beat the odds, got out of a drugged up youth and pursued an education. She was going to save the world – she was going to go to law school! She met the love of her life and they’re getting married! Oh, how lucky is she? What if people knew that throughout these years I have been quietly suffering at the prospect that I’m not good enough. I’ve never felt fully “in” anything. Always one foot in and one foot out.

No one will know. I’m going to continue on fighting my own demons as we all are.

We’ve been sitting on opposite sides of the couch since dinner was finished over two hours ago. The red screen illuminates our white walls with a red shine as he presses the play button on the “Are you still watching?” screen. I glance down at my phone and see a new text from Adam, he hardly notices.

It’s Thursday night and I have nothing to look forward to. The weekend is a time for me to sleep, catch up on the latest series and get fatter. He’s there the entire time but there’s also an elephant in the room. We’re talking, but we’re not really talking. His dark eyes look at me cautiously and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is he happy? Does he think I am? What are we doing? Is this what our life is going to be? He stretches his arm behind my back and pulls me in. It’s warm—he’s warm. And then we watch another episode of Mad Men. I’m happy in this moment.

This city has done a number on me. Coming here I knew I was beginning a journey that had the ability to build me up and tear me back down. I think the idea of that intrigued me, and I didn’t actually think anything bad would happen.