(Continued from September 2021)
The white sedan rolled under a tree in the parking lot. Eurydice parked the car away from the illuminated Motel 6. She smiled so much on the way to meet Orpheus that her face hurt. She pressed cold hands against flush cheeks, then took three deep breaths to calm her jittering mind and chest. Her gaze fixed on the brochure palette in the bright lobby, across from the car. Vibrant reds, oranges, and greens caught her eye as she skipped toward the building. What was there to do in the drab town of Centralia, Washington? Other than uniting with your twin flame for the first time at a seedy hotel, late at night.
I don’t know who usurped my story, but it happened to me, Orpheus happened to me, so it’s best if I tell it, verbatim, like he asked me to before he died.
Eurydice ascended the cement stairs stained with extinguished cigarette butts and pigeon shit. She followed the cracks in the steps with her breath. She stuffed her anxieties into the crevices, discarding fear of rejection there with the weeds and broken concrete. The outdoor walkway on the second floor of the motel stretched on and on. Eurydice got fed up with the distance, great and small, so she jogged the length of the building, then turned a corner. Light spilled out of the open door to room 213.
We actually joked about that later because Jeffrey Dahmer lived in apartment 213.
Eurydice barged into the room, giggles first. A pair of black Dr. Martens boots rested neatly next to the door as Eurydice closed it. The mirror reflected Orpheus lying down, with dark hair and eyes, clad in a faded black sweater, black jeans, and black socks atop all-white linen. He leaped out of bed. Eurydice turned around to Orpheus, who lunged at her with wild abandon. He cupped her hot cheeks in his soft hands. Orpheus lovingly locked his dark orbs into Eurydice’s doe eyes. They kissed deeply at the door, with eyes half-opened, as if in tantric meditation. Cloud-lips connected with lightning smooches into a mutual melt. Their cells melded. Their desires uncoiled in embraced limbs, buttery and warm. Electric.
I always loved it when he said we had enough electricity to light up a city.
Orpheus guided Eurydice to the bed, slowly swaying and gently pulling her toward the mattress framed in chipped pine. He lowered himself down, back first, and settled her on top of him. She lifted their tops to feel flesh against flesh. Orpheus plucked the shirt off of Eurydice and then his own. He clasped her waist as he did so, which kept her positioned on his lap. Eurydice brushed the dark curls from Orpheus’s X-ray eyes that scanned her soul for lust and love.
"Tell me that you need me," Orpheus said as he sucked on Eurydice’s hard nipple, biting just enough for her to feel a jolt of pleasurable pain.
Animus just left, thankfully.
Orpheus slides his velvety tongue into my eager mouth. We kiss like the world is ending—writhing all the way to dystopia, where smug hipsters raise their small dogs and sugary coffees as a tsunami destroys their imploding metropolis, commonly loathed for growing beyond most people’s means.
Orpheus kisses and licks his way down my torso, covered in a faded, colorless tattoo of snakes entwined. I watch him in the mirror on the dresser in front of the bed, as he slips off my leggings and thong.
"You don’t care that I’m bleeding?"
"Do I look like I care?"
Orpheus tugs the tampon out of my yoni with his teeth. He flings the tampon across the room, where it thwacks the dresser and rolls onto the carpet. Luckily, there wasn’t much blood.
Orpheus licks spit onto the tips of his index and middle fingers and so very lightly caresses my clit, igniting every single cell in my body. Little taps and swirls in the most controlled way. He massages my pussy with his Midas touch until amrita drips down my thighs and onto the sheets. He enters me, and it’s every bit of magic we expected, but more divine and sweeter. The ecstasy is so profound that we don’t know where the other begins or ends. For the first and only time in my life, I have an orgasm the first time having sex with a lover, instead of it taking a few times to a few months.
In repose, we share stories. I tell him about my hometown in Florida, and he tells me his most vivid Florida memory.
"I went to a shack with this guy. We smoked crack in the dark for what felt like hours. When he eventually turned on the lights, palmetto bugs covered literally everything in the room. You could hear the roaches slither into hiding."
Just as Orpheus tells me this anecdote, his baby momma calls. He holds me as they talk about their kid. After 15 minutes, I get antsy and pull the hairs on his chest, hoping it’s true he’s been sober for a couple of years. He smirks at me but still talks for another 10 minutes or so. A 25-minute call interrupting our hilarious and grim pillow talk was way too long to accept when he drove farther than I did. Plus, we had very limited time together, which he was wasting on a phone call he could’ve ignored. Neither of us could stay the night in the hotel room because we had to work too damn early in the morning. As annoyed as I am that he’s blabbing on a call, I find comfort in his absolute transparency at the same time. The thought calms me, and I sink into his skin. He hangs up the phone and apologizes, then kisses me.
After finally being with Orpheus in person, I knew I needed to keep meeting him for romantic rendezvous, no matter the difficulty. Even if I sometimes created hardship between us. Like then. A couple of weeks after we met that night, I called off the relationship. My ex had re-entered my life apologetically, and Orpheus had gradually withdrawn from me. We hardly talked. He was aloof. It became confusing to have love for two people who were interested in me. I had to choose one, and I chose the person closest in proximity to me because I knew him better and trusted his fidelity more than Orpheus’s.
I called Orpheus and told him that I needed to give Eros another chance. He wasn’t happy about it, of course. But the beautiful thing is that sometimes I was a jackass, like then, and Orpheus never held it against me. He’d get a little miffed in the moment, but he never stayed mad long. He always left the door open with me, even if I didn’t deserve it. Like that first time when I called it off instead of asking for us to figure out how to navigate a long-distance relationship that required crossing a border between countries.
I never shook that perpetual need to be near him. Death makes that a fun game, but dreams have a funny way of being real when someone dies.
To be continued...
