Chapter 2: Whiskey

Whiskey is the devil. I’m halfway through the bottle. As I walk, I sway. My mind goes to telling her how much I love her over text. Maybe proposing to her over text (like I did to my ex girlfriend). Yes, in case you were wondering, she is now my ex because I had the audacity to propose to her over text and I thought it was funny, playing with her like that. Women are like birds. They are nice to look at but they bite you if you get too close, and they like to have their own territory. You can’t get too close to them without getting nipped. It’s the unfortunate truth. That’s why I always tell Allison I don’t want love, coffee, friendship, or a warm bed. All I want is her body. I’ve been really clear from the start, and, if she doesn’t get it, it’s on her. I thought that wouldn’t break her heart at first, that she deserved to know I just wanted to get laid, but it did. Every time we fucked, she’d give me long blow jobs and I’d shove my dick down her throat, and that was that. Over and done with. She loved it. I loved it too: seeing her that way. It was intoxicating to see a powerful woman on her knees. Well, a formerly powerful woman, anyways.

She’s said no a million times but she keeps coming back for more. It’s like I have too much power over her. It’s like I’m a wizard and she’s my cat that I can do what I want with whenever I please. I know it sounds cold.

I keep telling myself I’m not in love with her, because, if I was, I would never be this selfish. I wouldn’t take so much if I was truly in love with her, and give so little. She’s knocking on the door now. I take another swig of whiskey and I lay on the couch, listening to her knock. I sigh, get up, and open the door.

“Hey,”

“Hi,” I respond.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

I shook my head, “No. I don’t.”

I reached around her shoulder and I kissed her lips. Our tongues danced and I could feel my penis becoming erect. I swallowed. I stopped.

“Go away.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t want to lead you on.”

She looked down at the floor and she nodded, “No. I need you. Sorry for all of the calls, Will. Please let me stay,” She begged like a homeless person asking for a sorely-needed meal.

I sighed, “Sorry.”

She looked as though she wanted to say something to me, but couldn’t. She could write me a million texts, but, when we were actually together, she couldn’t actually bring herself to say a damn thing. Not something that meant anything. I slammed the door and sat back down on the couch. I sighed, wiped a tear from my eye. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but it just wasn’t true. Or maybe it was. I didn’t know. She didn’t ever give me a chance to fall in love with her.

Men fall in love with women when they’re not there, and, since she’s always available, I’ll never fall in love with her. Maybe I already am. I can’t say it though. That would ruin it for both of us. She wouldn’t want me as much as she does. She wouldn’t dream about me every night, like I dream of her, and she certainly wouldn’t stay faithful. Everyone I had loved always left: My father, my grandma, my mom.

He'd been shot. My heart sank like a bottle in the bottom of the ocean. I wept. I felt like there was a hole in my heart. Like someone had put his fist inside my chest, and pulled, ripping me apart no matter how badly it hurt me. I laid there. Hollow. That’s when my mom offered me beer. There was nothing else left to soothe the pain. Nothing strong enough, except the alcohol.

I sat there, chugging it, and I sat down. My feet felt like stones on the floor. She, well, Allison, is confusing. She hates me, she loves me, she’ll do anything for me, except stop. She needs me, mostly. I take advantage of it. I know I do. It’s not like she cares about me enough to stop harassing me. She never has. She never will. I hate it. I hate her for needing me to the point of no return. I need her to need me, though. I love her needing me. I love her begging for me on her knees. I love the power I have over her. It’s hard for me to lose self control I never had, not since Jim, my dad passed. I’m Nelson. Not that you need to know. Not that anyone needs to know. I laid down, I saw an image of Allison in my mind, with flowing brown hair, my head hit the pillow, and I swiveled into dreamland.