Pink cookies in a plastic bag...

I've got a bone to pick with myself. Already. I've let so many entities into my world, that I've lost count. I've been thinking about sex lately. No, let me say that again. I've been wanting sex lately, but not in the normal tense. I've been wanting intensity. That's it. Intensity. I've been wanting to scream someone's name. Make a call out to God, to help me comprehend the pleasure being administered to my flesh, by another lifeform. Just once, I want intensity again. I've only felt it a few times. Very few men in my life have ever been able to give me intensity. I need that. I want your essence. I want your spirit. I want your thought processes while you lay close to me. Your tongue would be so warm on my skin that I'd break out in aphrodisia. I want to play in your sunshine, and bathe in your rain.

Wait, I'm flashbacking...

The Scorpion. He was my best friend. We were students together at a well known music production school in NYC. Sympatico. We used to laugh at the same jokes, sing the same songs, and think the same thoughts. We knew we couldn't be together, because we had relationships, but we weren't happy. Then we lost each other. We found each other again, a year later. We would get together after my late night shift as a *phone whore, and ride around. We'd laugh and joke about the petty issues couples go through, and what we'd do if we we're put in similar situations. We'd also share the same thought of kissing each other, but we never did.

Until...

One night, I was bored. So was he. The man I sold my heart to lived so many miles away, I needed a comfort zone. We got together again. We spent the whole night enjoying each other and offering each other temporary peace. So, it was bound to happen. I kissed him, finally. Breaking our years of emotional silence. My mind was on fire, my voice left the confines of my throat, and my body was ice cold. I can't quite explain what he gave me that night. All I know is, he was love, personified. Though, I promised myself to a distant man, who didn't provide me with the love I needed at the time, it didn't matter. For that one moment, I was engulfed in love. I was teleported into a space that I didn't want out from. Nothing existed but my Scorpion. Yet, it didn't last.

We lost each other again...

A year later, distance and jealousy had infected my relationship. It finally ended. After having empty sex with even emptier promises, we found each other again, and vowed never to leave each other's side. Nothing would come between us. Not even sheets, which never seemed to stay on beds if we were alone. Our sexual escapades were religious experiences as we created shrines with our bodies, urging us to pay sensual homage to one another. Our screams of passion were hymns of erotic obscenities, only for our ears to enjoy, our bodies to endure, and our souls to memorize. Then...

Love came in, and fucked it all up...

We didn't love each other. We fucked. And we confused the whole damn thing. We didn't talk. We fucked. And after we fucked, we just were. That's it. Although we should have talked like we had talked years ago, when we were best friends, we didn't. We just fucked. Then there we were. Lost, confused, and missing one another. I miss him. I still think of him now. It's funny how something so contrived and trite, can make you stare at yourself in the mirror and wonder what the fuck came out your mouth the minute someone mentions love. I guess fear, ego, and youth can destroy years of friendship. My one regret.

Wherever you are, my Scorpion, I loved you...


Know this...


*Back in the day, I was a telemarketer for a company that sold symphony tickets. Imagine my disdain and pity for telemarketers all over the world.