Good Night, Angel

July 26, 2016 at 12:14 am (One Particular Angel, Sweet sticky things)

And the hits just keep on coming.

Hind Lick ManeuverOver the past few years I’ve been in several relationships with women. Some more serious than others, but none too serious. It seems as though the seasons of love are changing again, and Fall is approaching.

Rain moved out around Thanksgiving, and hasn’t been back to visit once. She comes to my work, and I see her at her place, or downtown, but she doesn’t come to the house. We aren’t fighting or ‘separated’, but we aren’t as cozy as we used to be. Drifting apart.

Meg grew intolerable over time. I don’t know if it was a change in medication, ongoing meth use or plain ol’ insanity, but she turned on me and lit bridges on fire. She was a best-of friend and occasional discreet lover. She had delusions, and even tried filing a police report. (The police never came.) I miss her, and think of her every day, but I don’t contact her. I had to step away.

I’ve made friends with a couple women, but have been wary of pursuing anything further than bong-hit-buddies. I just ain’t ready to jump feet-first into the water; I need to lay by the side of the pool for a minute.

But there’s always Angel!

For the past decade Angel and I have had a flirtatious ongoing friendship. I always assumed we’d hook up some day, if we were both single at the same time. (It almost happened, but only for about a month, and simply didn’t take off.) We’ve maintained contact via text message. The other day when I was by her landlord’s office, I used it as an excuse to text her. The tone of her returning text seemed different. Cooler.

Then she texted, “Is it cheating to talk just talk with someone when you’re in a relationship?”

My heart sank, then something came over me. An enlightenment. I was even more free. I have never been able to let go of a woman until I know she’s going to be okay. It sounded like Angel was most okay. Good for her.

I texted back, “If it feels like cheating it probably is, they say. I understand, and if that’s what’s going on I wish you the best. I’m right over here, and always will be. Maybe I’ll let you instigate the texting from now on.” I tacked on a smily-face emoticon to remove any perceived snark, and sent.

I followed up almost immediately with, “But don’t mistake my quiet for lack of interest. I will always have a crush on you.” I hit send.

“Aw, you rock. Thanks.” There they were, Angel’s last words.

I brought up all messages for deletion: 200 exactly. Wow. It seemed like there would be more.

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