She.
“Is this all you’re gonna do? Don’t you have the drive to do something more with your life, or are you gonna work in that stupid store for the rest of your life?”
Calista’s words stung, but Eric loved her. Or did he – sometimes he wasn’t sure.
He’d “won” her love several years ago by stealing her away from some narcissistic wanker she’d been dating at the time. Surely Eric had loved her then – maybe? A debate raged between his emotions and his logic about the topic. Did he want her back then because he loved her, or was it more like wanting something he didn’t have? And if it were the later, then did he love her now?
In fact, did he ever love her, or was she just some conquest over an imaginary enemy. In the end, she had chosen him, married him, and was with him now. Therefore, she must love him; else she wouldn’t be here, right?
“I love my job and the pay’s good. Besides, I’ve been applying to other places, but I haven’t heard back from any of them yet. What else am I supposed to do?”
He didn’t know what else to say. These arguments had become common place and the frustration of trying to satisfy her had driven him to the point of just wanting to be left alone. The entire ordeal was maddening.
He did love his job, though… for the most part. He managed an adult fetish store. It was a great job! Not a day went by that Eric didn’t have at least one interesting conversation with some kinky customer. He’d been working there so long now that nothing he heard shocked him. Oh, and don’t forget the cute strippers that came in every night looking for new outfits. They certainly were a yummy perk. Nothing in life is perfect though, and that included the part of his job that Eric hated.
A mandatory part of the job was to ‘pimp out prostitutes’ (as Eric referred to it), even though his boss called it the less offensive, ‘offering private dances from sexy girls to single men who came in the store.’
“Oh, so you love hanging out with those whores?” Calista blurted.
“Dammit, I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s part of my job. I have to deal with it. I don’t hang out with them. I’m there to work, not socialize.”
He yelled at her again, he didn’t like yelling at her.
He slammed his hand down on the arm of his favorite recliner – small puffs of dust plumed from the drab brown fabric. He pushed and rose out of the chair to stand toe-to-toe with her.
“And they’re not whores. They’re people doing what they gotta do to survive, that’s all. I don’t judge them. Damn, why ya gotta be such a bitch.”
There was the B-word again. That’d been happening a lot lately. He hated dropping the B-bomb, but he couldn’t stop himself.
She was a petite girl, standing barely eye-level to his shoulder. But he felt tiny and insignificant when he looked down into the scathing, hate-filled eyes that stared back at him. Oh, how he hated her. He wanted to love her, but he really hated her. And it was apparent in her eyes that she hated him back just as much.
“Fuck you! I’m not a bitch. Don’t you ever call me that again.” She said for hundredth time.
Eric clenched his jaw and his fist. Anger pumped adrenaline to his muscles causing them to ache for something to hit. He imagined his giant fist punching that pretty little face and knocking her out. The sudden thought of wrapping his fingers around her neck and squeezing the life out of her aroused him, and a comforting familiar darkness rose up around him like a storm surge before an approaching hurricane.
“Get away from me. Leave me alone. I hate you.” She screamed, pushed him back down into the recliner, and stormed into the bedroom, where she slammed and locked the door.
“Whatever.” Eric said to the closed door.
These arguments happened so often that he knew she’d be in there the rest of the night, with the door locked, but it didn’t matter. She was here now.
Not she – Calista. This was another she. This she had no name. She wasn’t someone. She was something dark and endless that dwelt in the ocean of Eric’s mind. She was the mermaid offering a safe haven along that endless black horizon, and she was inviting him to rejoin her now.
He reached down into a pouch under the arm of the chair, pulled out a pipe and a small crinkly bag, and proceeded to tap the contents of the bag into the pipe. He was fond of the bag – a glowing white skull on a black background with the name ‘Brain Freeze’ etched across the top in blue.
She was waiting. Eric grabbed his lighter. A flame flickered to life. He set fire to the tiny flakes that were packed into the pipe and puffed.
The first hit sent billows of smoke that tasted like dusty old dirt bellowing into his lungs, and choked the room with the smell of burning dusty old dirt (if it were possible for dusty old dirt to burn) mixed with a dash of smoldering rubber. Sometimes, he got lucky and it had a hint of burning hair. It tasted sickening and made him want to puke, but the nastier it tasted, the better it was.
He quickly followed up with a second hit and she welcomed him.
The fluid tentacles of her thoughts seeped into his brain and merged with his mind.
Her darkness washed over him, cleansed him of all that troubled his weary brain, and soothed his achy muscles.
He didn’t resist her; he wanted to be with her. He relaxed and let a river of rippling shadows carry him through the vast nothingness where she existed. Once deposited on the surface at her feet by the current, he let her pull him under, into her dark caressing depths.
The tide rose above his head, the hurricane had arrived, and he was in the eye of the storm. The shadowy world remained calm within her realm. All the stresses and strains of the outside world melted away. In the eye of the hurricane there was only her, and he belonged to her.
Although she only ever showed herself to him as the shadowy silhouette of a shapely woman with no features, he knew she was perfect. She was sex. And she made him feel like no one ever had before. She was the reason he raised the pipe to his lips once more, and she was the reason he took a third and forth hit. He let her drag him down deeper into her murky dark oblivion. He knew he loved her, and he never wanted to leave her again.