El Dia De Los Muertos

Tonight I will be celebrating El Dia De Los Muertos with friends. At the party, I'll be making pina coladas. Yum. I'm waiting for my homegirl Jessica to come here so that we can leave. Jessica is that friend that you always find yourself waiting for, no matter what. I wait. I love her company but waiting for her is slightly infuriating mostly because I hate waiting for people and to my credit, I hate the feeling of people waiting for me.

Rene just left. God, today was something close to love. Things are so good between us and our bodies are absolutely in love with each other. It's incredible, our chemistry, and it gets stronger with each passing day. Last night when I got off of work, I met him and his friends in midtown: rod, ame and ray. We had drinks--i drank really strong margaritas and started throwing lettuce off the balcony. Amy threw limes and almost hit a bouncer. We almost got kicked out. I don't really hang out with Rene's friends that often so this was fun. I clicked with Amy on a superficial level. I won't be calling her up to do drinks anytime soon but she's fun to be with.

It's cool to observe Rene with his friends. He's so alive, so animated. Fun to watch. I feel a sense of wonderment. Then he grabs my hips spontaneously and no matter what kind of music is on we dance. Times are good.

I drank too much. I took a cab home last night and as we sailed over the Williamsburg bridge, I felt so horrible, my stomach, my head...oh, why tequila on an empty stomach, why? As soon as i got out the cab and he pulled off I expressed my dinner to the concrete. Again, and again. I don't know the last time I threw up in public. I don't know the last time I threw up from drinking too much.

I felt much better though. I brushed my teeth and snuggled into bed and closed my eyes to a spinning world.

2:30am. Rene called. On his way over...

Sex olympics till the sun came up. Yum.

He spent all day here. Exquisite. He finished painting my wall. Utah Blue. I made him do it in his boxers and i took pictures while his back was turned. Wonder if I'll show them to mom.

And now I'm here waiting for fucking Jessica. Hurry up Jessica! Are you coming on horseback?

On Thursday afternoon I was having dinner with my friend Rog and guess who calls? GM!

Backstory: GM is a bobybuilder/personal trainer/kickboxer that I dated for a short time before he moved away to England and got married. Basically, the day after I broke up with Rene back in April, GM and I hooked up and we enjoyed each other for a short scintillating time. I couldn't bear to cheat on Rene but GM was far more interesting at the time and far more dangerous so I had to see what it was all about and I'm glad that I did; even though I hurt Rene. Why GM was dangerous: that man and I could talk for hours and hours and that's my fastest highway to Loveville. Me and Rene's sexual chemistry is the equivalent of me and GM's intellectual chemistry. Rene doesn't stimulate intellectually and GM doesn't really stimulate me sexually. He's not bad but not good either. A sweet kisser though.

Anyways, I was weak for GM. I could see myself falling for him and I don't say that shit often. This guy was a mind fuck. Conceptually brilliant. But, he was engaged. And now, here he was on the phone, in my ear, saying my name and right away I knew that voice. He's from my country, so he sounds like the men of my island and I gasped. We couldn't talk long because I was at lunch with Rog, but in a nutshell, I asked GM how married life is treating him and he said that there's not one benefit to doing what he did--uprooting his life to move across the world to marry this woman. My face was a sinking ship. Not one benefit.

I asked him, "please, at least tell me the lovin' is good."

He repeated, "not one."

I felt sad to hear that, but not surprised. I knew he was flying across the world to lay in bed wth misery. I could see it in his eyes; he had the eyes of an animal that knew it was going to be put in a cage. I'm not saying that's a metaphor for marraige, but I'm saying it was a metaphor for his sitaution. I'm just sorry that he hasn't even been married six months and he's already climbing the walls.

He's coming here for Thanksgiving. We made plans to see each other, perhaps dinner, perhaps a movie, perhaps great conversation, perhaps my place, perhaps perhaps. Perhaps danger. Things are so good with Rene and I don't want to mess it up. I'm determined not to mess it up. I'm determined not to let GM into that space again. GM made his choice. He has to live with it. Not me. I won't let my weakness for him mess things up. Realistically though, I think that when I see him again I will realize just how terribly I've missed him. I think things between us will be as they always have been, full of electricity and exploration. I think he will try to kiss me and I think I will let him. And that's as far as things will go.