You Are My Angel…

January 27, 2014 at 9:09 pm (Cosmic Encounters, One Particular Angel, Sweet sticky things)

I’ve been listening to Massive Attack’s Mezzanine album, an album great for late-night bus rides. It opens with a song called Angel. Since I have an Angel in my life, I thought I’d see how the video compared to what I’d imagined.

Okay, nothing like I’d imagined. I figured there would be a hot girl singing, not a bunch of dudes chasing each other. It reminded me of how I feel the last two hours of my work week, when everyone seems to come to collect their pound of flesh. Run away!

The one person who hasn’t had her hand out, who doesn’t want something every time she calls? The one whose smile has my heart breakdancing inside my chest every time she kisses me goodbye?

My Angel…

Several years back, I went on a date or two with Angel. Exactly one year after our first date, I hooked up with Rain for the first time. Angel had been with a guy for a while. He was “the one.” He has come and gone a couple times over the years. A few months back, after some drama, she kicked him out and has been living single. As we talked, hugged, shared, it became apparent we were in the same emotional lifeboat, floating in a sulfurous sea of toxic emotion. We’ve been giving each other strength as we push away our emotional demons.

Where is Rain in all this? She is in the process of moving out. Again. She’s back on methadone, and living in various places downtown. We’re not fighting, but it hasn’t been a love-fest. She’s been moving her stuff out, albeit slowly.

Much like a few years back, the attention given to me by Angel gave me the confidence to move on. I’d been in a relationship that needed to end; she gave me the excuse I needed to take the leap. While Angel and I didn’t become an item, we became good friends, and eventually co-workers. She’s taken a sabbatical from work, but she still has her other job a block away. We see each other constantly.

During her time broken up from the boyfriend, we talked. We’d meet at the mall. We would hold hands walking to the MAX. Kisses goodbye would warrant text messages describing butterflies breakdancing and moshing in my chest. I live-texted my shift to her on New Year’s Eve, describing the buffoonery in stony detail. Angel loves the weed, and we have bonded over that. When she gets low, I make a trip to the clinic and get her something worthy. She relied on the ex-BF, who used it against her, so I offered. Not only am I more reliable, I can get her better weed.

In all our texting, I suggested that our New Year’s Resolution should be to spend more time in the same room. I know we can impress each other on a date. I know we can light each other up like a pinball machine if we’re alone and the proximity is close. (If you’re gonna shoot me down, “Stop that, you’re making me horny!” is a great line.) But, what if, after we’re all fucked out and fed, we get on each other’s nerves? Maybe the way I chew will make you snap? Are your feet rougher than a cat’s tongue? How soon before we can fart openly? She LOLed me and agreed, but she didn’t seem concerned.

So I pressed the issue. Let’s hang out and smoke ourselves silly. It’s a great way to decompress from work. “I am so down for that.” She suggested a movie, or renting a flick and cooking.

I was so incredibly down for that. DOWN, I fucking tell you.

I promised candy and flowers, although “the candy is a ridiculously small portion and the flowers are all dried up.” (Winky emoticon.)

“I am so ready. It will be fun.” She told me to meet her after work.

I put party favors together, groomed everything but my face. I’ve been letting the whiskers grow for a couple weeks, just to see how white the beard is getting. (The moustache is about all that’s red, rooted from the ears down.) I liberally conditioned just in case my face found its way up some lovely’s thigh. I planned on getting downtown at least an hour early, in case she got off early. As I packed her candy and a couple other goodies, my phone buzzed. It was Angel.

“Sorry, but I have to cancel. I have to pick up a prescription, plus I’m super broke. Sorry.”

I shot right back, “Well, I’m not totally broke, and my whole plan was to spend time with you. We can do that on a bus, you know.” We do all the time, in fact.

“You’re so sweet. Ex is back. We have to talk. Please?”

Nah, we don’t have to talk. I already know.

Is the Ex back? I dunno. If not, she doesn’t want to hurt me so she’s using him, much like I was going to use her to finalize things with Rain. (“Angel won’t allow me to see you AND her, so I am going with her.”) Angel is smart, and stable, and that’s atypical of the type of woman I attract. I don’t want anything to be shady. I’ve had too much shady. I am full of picking through bullshit to find the truth. I want to be with a woman who wants to be with me, not because she has no other choice. And instead of hiding behind Angel, I should just tell Rain to go away.

If that’s what I really want. I spent an hour walking the city, hoping I could see her from a distance.

And if her Ex has moved back in? Well, I have some experience in this department. He’ll fuck it up again, and I will be there for my friend. Like I told her as her co-workers watched, “I’m of the belief that no guy can have too many beautiful woman friends.” I kissed her on the forehead and walked out with a proud smile. I can be a guardian angel of sorts, too.

A guardian angel with better weed.

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