Nightmares

“You’re the first person”, but he was tired now.  He sounded tired from medication and the unending battle he fights to live.  Yet, when I saw him earlier in the day my heart immediately went out to him.  Something amazing too, he was happy.

I was rushing past as this life that has been contrived without advice or help from me.  Trying to make up for lost time as I am constantly running with no end.  Yet, he was happy.  I don’t mean he was glad to be sick or struggling.  Somehow, he’s found a way to live with all the pain.  Something he’s decided to just be happy.

It was nice to see.

I imagine a truck driver I passed on my way in had something to do with it.

The star is his, not mine.

Dumbest thing I’ve ever had to do was turn around in the Burger King to make sure that I made a left hand turn in and out of the gas station.  Dumbest thing.

I was about to tell the gas attendant so, but my mind was already several miles down the road.  Besides, nothing happens when I talk to people.  Nothing changes.

Dumbest thing.

A black woman I can never be.

The reason this all went bad has to do with the devastation that Edison caused.  And, they knew as early as April 2014, yet went ahead knowing it was a mistake, knowing it would cause harm, knowing it was untruthful to do so.

Because of the fire alarms in this house which recorded me while I slept and was awake, they knew I would never in my whole life ever want to see “Edison” again.  I would awake screaming loud enough the neighbors should have called the cops.  I would awake after having seen Edison in my dreams and I would punch and fight him until I killed him.  It is more than a matter of not wanting to see someone again.  This was a seriously harmful event that cannot be undone.

Did DKW or JF actually think I did not know how to date or fuck?  That I needed guidance or training wheels?  That I wasn’t already a grown woman with years and decades of experience under my belt?

It was after these events that JF told me at the container store he thought I was nothing more than a dog.

What they did is sick!  It never should have happened.  One man watching telling the other man what to do, what to say, how to fuck me.  It’s disgusting.  It’s morally reprehensible.  They should be punished, not me.  I did not lie or do anything wrong.

This matter of black and white should NEVER have happened.  I have a right to my own body.  I have a right to say what kind of man I am attracted to.  I have a right to decided if I do or do not want a man in my life.  I have a right to say I will never be a black woman.  I have a right to say I am not Hispanic either.  I have a right to say I am not Chelsea Handler.  I have a right to say, you have hurt me too much, too deeply, and for too long.  I have a right to decide that a person, a man, who deceives me is no longer trustworthy, or worth my admiration or respect.

I have a right to my own pubic hair.  I have a right to say you should not be looking there.  I have a right to decide how and what shape I want it to be.  You do not have a right to tell me what she should look like.

I have a right to move on.

I have a right to say I know the “marriage” proposal was nothing more than their way of creating this dumb movie and drive route.

I have a right to say I do not want to see a movie.

I have a right to say I do not want to be friends anymore.

This matter of black and white has set the nation and the world back 50, 60, 70 decades.  It did not bring racial awareness or create accord it created division and derision.  When we, as a nation, had already stepped out of the dark ages and elected a President not because of the color of his skin, but because he was the best candidate for the job.

That small man who thinks he’s a magician, by having another change places with him so quickly.  They were not the same.  Dreadful out-loud guffaws as I am either push-buttoned into a laugh or it was the sight of that man I detest and never want to see again.  No one listen to me when I say, no.

No one listens to me when I say, no.

For he is truly a villain.

And one lucky son-of-a-bitch.  Because he never would have gotten anywhere near me if it wasn’t for DKW or JF.  It would never have been possible.  Ever.

I specifically wore my green shirt in protest to this black hole nonsense.  In protest.  No means No.  I am not a pet.  I am not your baby.  I do not belong to you.  You will have to kill me next time.

As always when it comes to food – Men only read.

I was distracted most of the night.  Blushing and distracted.  It’s embarrassing how easy it is to cause my cheeks to change color.

This travel-worn man.  This man who has come from so very far away.  This romantic voice in the night.  It’s what I heard.  Men can be romantic.  Have a romantic face, way about them, or voice.  It’s what I heard.

He has not slept well.  Not in a long time.  He was well-overdue for some time off.  It made me sad to see this in my head.  He hasn’t slept well and woken up feeling refreshed and ready to go about his day in a long, long time.

Here is our night in food: 

Mind you, I would NOT be cooking or inviting you in on the first date.  I may blush easily enough however, man he was distracting.  Kissing me already in my head.  Blushing.

Starter: Fresh artichokes.  They should be in season soon.  Fresh cooked whole artichokes.  You take the leaves off one at a time then with your bottom row of teeth take the meat off the leaf.  If you don’t know how to eat real artichokes that haven’t been bought in a can or tin or plastic tub of some food spread.  Dip them in a little homemade mayonnaise or EVOO if you like.  Real food.  Good all on its own.

Dinner: Chicken breast marinated in buttermilk overnight, so they are juicy.  Then, a mixture of buttermilk, homemade mayonnaise, and spices, then coated in crushed cornflakes.  Oven baked.  Crunchy outside, juicy inside.  Homemade potatoes a gratin with thick slices of a good semi-hard cheese added the last few minutes, with a tomato salad.  Ripe tomato wedges, Kalamata olives, perhaps green olives too, thin slices of red onions, fresh fine-chopped parsley drizzled with EVOO, salt and pepper, perhaps fresh chopped garlic.  Probably of slightly dry, sweet white wine would be good.

We’ll have some dessert wine while I prepare this.

Dessert: What about a layered cake fruit dessert.  A thin layer of cake, Angel food, white cake, or some such, then real whipped cream with vanilla pudding together to make it light tasting perhaps a liquor for flavor, then thin slices of strawberries, cake, cream pudding, then blueberries, cake, pudding mixture, then raspberries, repeat layers then, blackberries, repeat mixture and top with whipped cream and more fruit to garnish.

I want to feed you well.  Food for you to live.  Not to gorge you.  Or overfill you.

Sitting on a bench sharing concord grapes while we enjoy the view.

How about some homemade just cooked tortilla chips?  A little flirtation here as we eat just cooked chips, homemade salsa, guacamole, as we drink an expensive Argentina red.

Sourdough bread sliced on the diagonal EVOO and toasted, a thick slice of tomato more EVOO, salt pepper, a good slice of cheese toasted.  Honey, I made you a snack.  Here’s some carrot juice too.

Sometimes you need to unplug from your life and reconnect with one another.  Here, I made you a S’more.  As you look each other in the face in the eyes reminding each other why you are together.  In my head I thought, perhaps I might smoosh a marshmallow or two in his face, just to get him to laugh.

A good movie night:

Meat and potatoes popcorn.  You been waiting for this one.  This is what I call them.  This is what happens when you are allowed to have a pantry.  You can create food.  Air-popped popcorn, not the microwaved stuff with yellow gel, with carefully drizzled butter.  You must be careful to get the best coverage.  Brewers yeast, cumin, chili powder, and bit of salt mixed and sprinkled so that it is well covered.  It doesn’t taste like movie theater popcorn it tastes better.  It is so good.  You need a beer to go with this while we sit and enjoy a movie together.

Adult slushies:  In a blender ice, vodka or flavored vodka, flavored syrups (could be homemade it is not difficult) while sitting and enjoying a movie or television (don’t know what that is anymore) and each other’s company.

Green shirt – MWB smell.  Did you think I would get upset by that?  Send me into a tizzy writing?  I was going to say I could have had a drink or several with this man.  With just one glance – I wish I could describe it in detail.  There was a lot from that night.  Do you actually think you’re clever to do so?  I still like that smell.  I have this odd memory of a dollar bill with his cologne on it.  Smelling it and thinking of him.  No, I actually do not like the smell.  I am simply unafraid of his scent.  Unfortunately for me, the man had a nice dick.  You’re reaching with this one in this way.

This man is fast.  Scanning.  You should have seen him fly through my head.  I was almost dizzy a few times.  Dizzy.

I was just a stop.  He was on his way back to his job far from here.  Military planes.  Don’t leave a lot of time for idle.  Good, efficient, diligent, hard-working, mindful, careful, not-a-problem with just a moment, I mean on and on I could go.

These men.  How much they are willing to sacrifice?  Flavor, food, good taste, the joy of eating for the taste.  He wanted a Rueben.  A Rueben?  Not Filet Mignon?  A Rueben?

I would bake fresh rye bread slightly toasted, thin-sliced turkey piled high, with good sauerkraut, perhaps caramelized onions, Jarlsberg cheese broiled until it melts.  Mustard on the side, Dijon, stone ground mustard, the good stuff.

Water, beer?  Whatever you like.

I saw a flaky white fish soup with a creamy base too.

Flying, he was flying through my head.  He was trying – for some reason – to bring me back to the German store/café at Countryside mall, to my first trip to Jamaica in my green one-piece bathing suit, hair braided like Bo Derek.  The reason for his green shirt has nothing to do with my garage doors.  It was my green bathing suit, got it.  Do you know when I went back to Jamaica a year later I could have given directions.  I knew where everything was still.  Jamaica is not that big, yet still.  I was 17 or 18.

Then…He, is a problem.  The more I looked, the more it became a problem.  The more I looked…well, I am not about to explain my process.  I-Did-Not-Like-It!  Nor would I like any man who would hurt, manipulate, and harm old people.  Or, see them not as real people, someone who would trip or cause a person to fall or harm themselves then tell the person they did it themselves.  I could go on.  It was a long night.

My back was up with this man.  I was not about to let one-minute pass.  I must have been too much as others slowly started getting closer to him.  Like the prison guard who – in a blink of an eye – I saw how he was grateful he was able to use his body weight in such a way as to create pressure.  He could still move well and quickly.  How had already planned when he was going to retire.  It takes too long for me to slow down and go back trying to write everything I see in my head in a moment.

Yeah, brothers…BTW, you do look related, but you are not the same.  One is a teaser which can be a problem at times as some people do not like to feel picked upon even if it is meant only in jest.  Which I am guessing is why your brother is more solid, stable, he has had to clean up and keep parties from getting carried away with emotion in the moment because of you.

This, I am not amazing.  If I was, if I am then I wouldn’t be where I am.