Losing a loved one has never been something I have really experienced as a human being. Leniey's mom, from the day I saw her, looked the chill type, and one would barely believe that she had any sickness or would not see the end of this year, or something like that would be the last time she would be visible in my eyes. I wanted to ask Leniey all sorts of questions, like, What happened? Was it a car accident? Was she sick all along? But seeing his upright position and the way he just shook his head as if trying hard to stop his thoughts, I just decided to keep my thinking within me.
"Say something." Leniey stated, in between my thoughts and the silence that was between us. I had a screen, but I was not sure that some movie would do as of then, but God, silence can be quite depressing too. I did not know what to say; some time had passed. I believe something like one hour or forty-five minutes, for we both went into some silent moment, as if each was just thinking, my hand on his, the soothing only. I just hoped it worked, or maybe it did not.
"What, some movie?" I asked, not really sure what I was supposed to ask.
"I know you want to know what happened." Leniey interjected.
Of course I wanted to know what happened; there were so many questions running through my mind, but I was not sure that he was ready to talk about everything. I was not sure that he was ready to let the wound burn again; what a hell of a scar and hole would it be?
"I,… I don't,…" I was stuttering, something I don't do and never do. I have never done it, but well, I have done it here.
"Which movie." Leniey asked, literally continuing the topic I had started.
"I have quite a lot; your pick." I knew that, as much as I hoped he would watch the movie, his head would be quite far away, maybe battling things he knows he can't handle. Oh, Leniey, I even did not know what to say to him.
"I wanted to take you out." He stated, now sitting upright from the couch and watching me, direct straight in my eyes. His shirt was already half open, and I could see his upper torso. I hated when a man would open his shirt like that; I just could not concentrate. It's just like when he wears sweat pants and comes to my house. Oh God, that kills me. I just barely focus on the real thing he is talking to me about. However, I tried not to look; it was easy for me to avert my eyes from something of my liking, not like guys who would just stare. It seemed staring is the most vulnerable part of being a man; they just can't stop staring, do they?
"Where, I think I am ready." I stated that. I don't know even where that option of being ready came from. It just happened to cross my mind,and so I was ready, sort of. With that, he stood up, fixed his baggy shirt, and started tucking the shirt in and fixing his fancy belt. He suddenly looked like some hot high school boy, beige and brown, but he always looked elegant. However, he really loved baggy trousers; it seemed he was never really comfortable with the fact that he was skinny, or maybe it was his sense of fashion, but of course, skinny dudes deserved to wear them, or rather looked better with quite baggy things. He brought forward his hand, as if expecting me to catch him, and I did, so I just rose and we faced each other, but today it was different. It seems he just wanted someone to talk to; his feelings were just far away from this earth, for he did not lustfully look at me like he always did when we were together; he just looked at me vulnerably, like he just wanted a hug or maybe a cheek peck or some forehead kiss, something like a friendly love and feeling.
Leniey was a good driver; he seemed to know the streets of even this side of town quite well. We were currently driving to some hotel, he said, which he quite liked, as some of his modeling colleagues used to drive there. On arrival, he packed his cool car. I think it was a rental car, but I am not sure. Sometimes I usually think of things that happen in rental cars, like sex and other intimate things, but I believe these people wash these cars well, and if it is not a rental, maybe it was a car that he was provided to use by his company, for am sure, he was not quite thinking of starting a life in the United Kingdom and living there fore. Maybe in the states he would, that I know, but here I am quite skeptical. When we are together, we barely even talk about our pasts. I don't know about his past either, and I don't know what I am thinking anyway. We entered the well-furnished hotel; it was already around five p.m. I believe we had some time to just maybe drink and chat a little, maybe make him forget about his mom or the pains, but can you really forget? When I was drunk, I usually wanted to talk to someone I loved, and I think that is also what he was like. When he approached me after the ghosting period, he was really drunk. That night, when he and I almost became intimate for the first time, he always seemed to just mess himself up when we were together. I just don't know. Look at me saying, I don't know why, but I don't really think about that thing much, nor have I ever even googled it. Maybe something I have ever googled is 'why your ex would sleep around with different girls right after you break up, why you can't forget your ex, and why I compare my current boyfriend with my ex' And yeah, those were the things I googled, and Quora was always there for me to answer those weird and stupid questions that kept running through my mind. I wondered if he really thought of me. As I was thinking about all this, Leniey asked for some coke, and as I was given Sprite, he seemed to know what sort of soft drink I liked. I hadn't changed it since my stay, or rather, before I came here.
"Share your thoughts," Leniey started.
"Not much, just thinking about life." I stated, just observing him take in the coke that was already in front of him. I wondered what he was feeling; maybe he should have ordered some cocktails and just killed all the feelings.
"Life... what about life?" He asked.
"What do I do after I graduate?" I stated. That was not even something that was on my mind; I just wanted to speak—maybe to just speak—to just keep the frickin conversation going. I felt maybe talking about me would easily just make him forget all the pains in his life. Of course, after graduating, I'll continue with my radio station. I'm not sure if it is a career, but yeah, I will continue with it for quite some time.
"Radio things,.. I thought you were fluorishing with it." He added as he sipped his coke once more. I felt his attention was full on me, for the lady waiter who came in was literally eyeing him, but his eyes were somehow, in some way, just focused on me.
"Yeah, psychology,…" I stated, and I saw him nod. He was a very vigorous nodding person; he always nodded when he was thinking or understanding things that maybe needed some clarification. With him, you had no; there was no need to just explain everything to him; he was quite good at finishing the dots.
"I missed you so much then." He started, and I just felt my heart really finally ache for that. "I just could not focus. But why did you leave like that, though?" He added. I knew, I knew, I knew the answers. And I also had this thing of repeating the same word a thousand times, maybe trying to think of what to say next, finding the right word, I guess, to fit in the sentence and the topic I was contemplating.
"I just did not know how to say it." I stated, sipping my sprite for the first time.
"Really?" He asked, now that his attention was fully focused on me. I wanted so badly for him to change the topic. I hated remembering my past and maybe the many people I left behind without saying goodbye. Why was he really saying all this? Or did he want to know if I missed him? Maybe I should just tell him I did. Of course I missed him, but he screwed up all those ladies.
"What's your body count?" I asked out of nowhere, which made him clench his jaw and scratch his head.
"Do you... what is that even coming from?" He asked. I hated when he would ask me questions when trying to evade the question I wanted to maybe ask about.
"I don't know; I just maybe want to know." I stated that, knowing literally well that his statement would hurt me; it would hurt me in all ways. Of course it would.
"I don't know, it was just vibes, you know, just vibes." He stated, still not answering the right question, What was the meaning of I don't know?Really, he just lost count of the women he slept with? Was he really serious, or was he just being cynical?
"What do you mean? I literally know the many frogs I have kissed since my first day; how would you not know those who you have literally fucked, Leniey?" I know I was getting mad; oh God, he just lost his parents..., one of his parents. Get hold of yourself, please, but maybe this was the pain I was holding on to all that long. I needed him to tell me, What was it? What was it that made him just sneek each and every woman in every pub into his drawers? I just could not imagine all that.
"It was some horny phase; I used protection; I always carried one."
"You knew you would fuck someone?"
"I could not do it sober, that for sure, but every morning I found myself with a new I just could not stop. It was just something that made me alive. With the drugs, "
"Gosh,.. Leniey."
"I stopped; I just could not do it. Anymore, I realized I was hurting them. Some who wanted good for me... I started focusing on the course and maybe some school activities." He was being honest with me in the way he just let his conversation flow.
"Damn, I am happy you stopped."
"It was for some time; after you left, I just felt hurt; it felt difficult; I wanted you to stay; it seemed everything I touched just flew away....," and somehow you could not continue, for he rose and went to maybe order some beer or some cocktail of sorts; he just left me thinking of everything he was saying; he was opening up to me, something he sometimes did when he wanted, but not to everyone.