That Swain Boy (Newfoundland part two)

November 22, 2017

As I lay next to him, tangled and braided limbs, sated beyond measure I turned to him and said, “Do you think it’s possible our bodies knew it was going to be like this before our minds figured it out?”

He said yes.

But we will get back to that.



I can explain everything.

This is my gift. Events unfold and I find the words. Sometimes, when I am lucky, I can find the reason too. I also know enough to know, there isn’t always a reason.

I have a good relationship with my gut, after ignoring my fate and the instincts that would have pushed me in good directions for years, I now hear my inner thoughts loud and clear. There are those that ramble and babble, and those that are so authoritative they cannot be ignored.

Like the one that said “kiss him before he goes.” There would have been a world of regret had I ignored that one. I knew it then and I know it now.

I find that I am no longer fighting upstream to places I don’t belong. I just float and land where I should be.

I carried two phrases for years, found them towards the end of time called before.

Let go and let god I saw outside a church , and everything is as it should be, Dalai Lama said it and they felt like truth in my mouth.
I say I carried them, and I did, but I didn’t put them into practice right away. I wasn’t ready yet.

I still have times where I get hurt, lost, confused.

I was coming out of a dark place when I agreed to go away with my roommate on a working vacation.

I think that is why I wanted to go, travel into the future and see what was there for me. Get out of my head and bed for a bit.

Newfoundland is a strange place. A big rock surrounded by the Atlantic. We heard tales that it was Stripper Mecca. Fishermen coming in with giant paycheques after being out to sea for weeks on end.
We were to work at a place called Sirens, which made me happy, just the name of it.

I have come to realize that strippers speak in the same way that survivors of the apocalypse will. Everything is better on the opposite end of the country from where you are. Here in the middle we hear tales of out east and out west. They think everything is wonderful here. It’s all nostalgia and hearsay.

But that isn’t what this is about.

457 words and I am getting to it.

My last post mentioned a boy.

I gave him my number and we made plans.

It was exactly that simple, but it wasn’t.

I mentioned to the manager I had a date with someone for my day off.

“That Swain boy?” (He knew)

“Yes I think so, Brandon’s friend.”

“Good, he’s best kind.”

“He’s what now?”
(Their accents are thick and the phrasing strange)

“Best kind. Good people.”

“Yes, yes I think he is.”

I used the word ‘think’ when speaking but my internal dialog said we knew.

I fought my inner thoughts a bit and lost. I had only met him the once, there was whiskey involved, spoken via text. Sometimes my memory invents things, maybe I thought there was more than there was. Maybe my whiskey goggles and sexual frustration making him cuter than he actually was. I was relieved however when he mentioned popping into work the Friday before the Sunday we were to meet up. Just to double check.

Vacation fling meant I could be even more honest than my usual blatantly honest self and I found my fingers spelling out ‘all I really want is some food and a big clean bed with you in it’.

Something about him made something in me just take over. The words I spoke, the things I did. It was strange but not in a frightening way. All I felt was calm and want.

He seemed all I could think about. Every time my phone went off I’d scowl if it wasn’t him and smile if it was. I wanted him alone somewhere and shutting the world out. No loud music, no bar fights, no clothes.

This is where words start to fail me, they become unnameable sighs of contentment. Descriptions become waves of warmth and comfort. The psychic flashes I had coming to fruition like beautiful, reverse déjà vu.

“Such a strange sensation when the reality matches what you pictured in your mind so precisely.”
Eric, True Blood


(this is part 2, part 3 tomorrow)








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  • Robert Wertzler November 22, 2017 at 5:14 pm

    Those inner voices, I’ve had mine say “Yes” or “No” (not just in the romantic realm) and ignored it and lived to regret, and listened and, however the matter ultimately worked out, had no regret even if I thought I would at the time. Looking forward to Part 3.

    • sexloveandgrace November 22, 2017 at 5:16 pm

      i am not sharing this publicly until tomorrow, and it seems to be turning into a novel.

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