Dichotomy

4:03 am

I couldn't get an Uber home

So, this is what it's like

the walk ⎯ without much shame.

May be just a fistful.

The stark florescent bus lights

felt like I was in a 1970s De Niro Movie.

a little nostalgic, a little depressing. There were

two black women, maybe in their late 50s, early 60s

chatting about something I can't relate to

They looked tired, not of physical exhaustion, but of life. Laughing at each other’s remarks about their children.

⎯ probably on their way to work, whereas I was just going home alone.

If they had known me, they might have reprimanded me with a long lecture beginning with an exasperated "⎯ Child!"

I would have.

I was feeling a little giddy,

a little guilty.

11:57 pm

Room 307 was tucked away

in-around the corner of the hall.

A tiny room only maybe 3x4 ft larger than the queen-sized bed it cradled.

A small 6 over 6 sash windows in the middle of the wall opposite the entrance, letting in the last of the late London light. A wooden wardrobe next to it ⎯ though a visit to Narnia was not forthcoming, and adjacent the door to the bathroom, though there was barely enough space for it to open without hitting the bottom wood frame of the bed.

A mirror hanging, next to the window

so, I could see myself to the right when I was on top.

He was kind of exciting

kind of terrifying ⎯ and ohhh so attractive.

He was Dutch

I knew what he wanted

he keeps trying to convince me I want it too.

only knew just enough English to lure a woman back to his hotel.

⎯ "I don't know what that means"

"Maybe better we keep it like this.

I like you"

More jumbled letters and unfamiliar sounds leaving his mouth.

" and that, what does that mean?"

"Hmm it's like English lover, sweetheart"

"that's sweet ⎯ " Legs entangled. I look at him.

More gibberish. More talk of "Pretty," "I like you."

He didn't.

And whenever he wanted to try to get further, he would start with "you know something...?"

"What?" Jeans bunched on the floor.

"You know something...?"

"Hmm, what?" Strap pulled off my shoulder.

I lean in kiss his cheek

whisper

"If you want me to leave, I'll leave but I'm not having sex with you." ⎯ more fragmented words " Okay, you're the boss."

Followed by "But, why?"

A boy told to put the shiny red car back on the shelf.

"Because you just want to fuck and leave and never see me again, and I don't do that ⎯

even though you are very attractive."

"No ⎯"

yes.

" ⎯ I'm not like that"

he was.

" ⎯ why you say that? You had bad experience

with Dutch guy?"

I might about to.

"Don't worry, I'm Christian."

I giggle. I'm sure.

"Yes, really."

"Me too." Taking my thumb underneath my necklace to present to him.

"A cross."

"You know something...?"

Yanking at me.

"If you want me to leave, I'll leave...

"Okay, you're the boss."

Round and round ⎯ till we fell off the bed. And I burst out laughing, and he continues in Dutch.

" I don't know what that means."

" You don't know what I say all night?"

An exasperated sigh. "Come here" Wrapping his arm around me Resting. Kissing my temple.

"I told you before I got here, I'm going to have sex and you'll be upset"

"I'm not upset ⎯ just disappointed"

Looking up at him from the nook of his neck. Pinching his finger and thumb, gesturing a little.

A chuckle escapes me, and I pat his cheek.

"Well, you would be?"

"But why you don't want?"

I sigh, place my lips on his, collapse next to him.

It's quiet, the kind of stillness you would feel looking at a stock photo. The room filtered with a dark blue hue from the mix of moonlight and late-night city lights.

The bed bare, except for clothes bunched on the ledge of the bedframe and a corner of the duvet. I pull it up and cover myself.

I could have left many times, but I didn't want to ⎯ why?

I wasn't particularly comfortable with him, but I wasn't particularly uncomfortable with him either.

His arm slightly squeezed around me, nudging for an answer.

"I don't want to say, you'll freak out."

"No⎯ "

I looked up at him again.

"Yes, you will"

"Tell me. "

We use a most unfortunate idiom when we say, of a lustful man prowling the streets, that he “wants a woman".

My eyes transfixed on the ceiling. This never goes over well.

"No, you'll freak out"

"No, Tell me. Please."

The ceiling blank, a dark ocean blue I might sink into. I feel his bicep under me supporting my head.

"Okay,

I'm a virgin. I'm waiting until marriage."

No movement.

He didn't even flinch.

I turn back to him, meeting his gaze.

"Because you're a Christian?"

"Yes."

" I get it, I really respect that."

I huff.

" No, I respect! I'm a Christian too."

He leans in, using both his hands to pull my hair away from my face, pressing his lips on my forehead, eyes, lips.

Plugs my nose and tightens his hand around my throat for a longer than a moment.

Dutch words.

⎯ "I don't know what that means."

"What doing tomorrow?"

"I'm flying to Michigan.

⎯ the United States."

Recoiling his head back "For fucks sakes ⎯ why?"

"I'm seeing my family. You know? Christmas?"

He smiles with his eyes ⎯ like a boy about to get a puppy.

"That's a good reason."

I kiss the crow’s feet around the corner of his eyes.

"It is, isn't it"

A soft peck on the corner of my smile.

"I am thinking Winter Wonderland."

Strictly speaking, a woman is just what he does not want.

Rolling over me, I entangle my hands in his blond hair. He shakes his head playfully.

"When are you leaving?"

"Monday."

"Ah."

Spooning me now.

"I'm only one hour."

"What? No."

"Yeah, Holland you fly one hour that's all"

"I didn't realize that"

I let my mind wonder about what that might be like.

"How long you here?"

"At least a year"

"I like you"

No, he didn't.

He didn't even respect me.

"You know, I work military?"

My eyes fixate on him. Considering his bursts of aggression it explained a lot.

"Huh?" I purred "I thought you were just Dutch."

"I would be away like 4-5 months

you okay⎯?"

He wants a pleasure for which a woman happens to be the necessary piece of apparatus...

- C.S. Lewis

I wonder what he would say about me.

"No, you wouldn't.”

"I didn't say anything."

"You know something? ⎯

you have to come here; you have to cum"

Snatching me abruptly so I'm straddling over him again. Hand slipping between my thighs, I exaggerate a sigh.

He tries again.

I detach and collapse next to him. My hand softy petting his face.

"I told you before I got here, I'm not going to have sex with you, and you'll be upset with me."

"I told you; you're the boss ⎯ I’m not upset.

but normally, I win"

I should be furious, I should be frightened with that statement, but I'm not. I'm intrigued,

"You win? So, there it is, you play along, tell women it's fine, and then wear them down?

" No, no not like that- But why, no?"

Unbelievable

"Really? After what I just told you"

"Maybe I marry you."

I gawk at him.

"You don't even have my number, or Instagram?"

A pause of consideration from him.

"I don't need."