Tuesday, June 30, 2009

I closed the door behind us, stripping off icy, soaking pants and replacing them with my least appealing pair of sweats. "My" apartment became an unfamiliar place in his company. I was unfamiliar. This course of action, brash and unfamiliar. Nothing had changed but suddenly everything looked, felt and smelled foreign; alien. I struggled to grab hold of a familiar routine but was ill-prepared for the disposition of the stranger I had so passively let into "my" home. Approaching this point, our relationship had been harmless. By the morning of the 12th, there was no going back.
The next few days were a blur of cigarettes, alcohol, baseball games and dirty t-shirts. Before I had time to acknowledge the weight of my wrongdoings, it was Sunday. Boston was to fly back to Camp LeJeune, NC, leaving me just enough time to cover my tracks and swallow the hardest pill; confessing my violation of "our" space and unveiling my blueprint for the cutting of all ties, and my departure to R. Boston had other plans.

I was scared to see him go, knowing, or rather not knowing what would become of the me I knew, and the me which had evolved in the preceding days. I had plenty to lose. I began mentally preparing myself to leave the cats which I had bottle fed as kittens two years prior, imagining the bottle caps and loose change under my sofa, as I moved it onto a truck. The line of bold "W" grades on my final transcript as a result of my inability to attend classes, having moved too far away. I suddenly wished I had taken this time to let these realities sink in, instead of distracting myself with unfamiliar lips that wreaked of alcohol, cigarettes and an approaching end. It was Sunday, and R. was to return Monday evening. I was so completely mentally entangled in facing what I had done, I failed to realize that Boston was not just a stranger, he was a stranger with ulterior motives.

By Sunday afternoon it occurred to me that Boston hadn't ever mentioned the time of his departing flight. I spent the next several hours asking him, hourly, when we should prepare to leave; citing the distance to the airport and that "everyone knows you should arrive two hours early" etc. Each time he soothed my inquiries by stating that he'd "let me know" and that I should "relax and enjoy the time we have together." By 7:00PM I'd had enough of this and demanded that he let me know what his plan was. He told me that he wanted to surprise me, planning to stay another night. R. was to arrive Monday at 6:00PM, this could work. I told him that would be fine, secretly ecstatic at the elongation of my mental escape from reality. Monday morning arrived and passed. By 2:00PM I grew suspicious of Bostons motives. He confessed that he planned to stay one more night...

It became evident that I had lost control of the situation, and that Boston aimed to take control. He had reduced me to a dependent. He was my responsibility, and was not to be trusted.

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