Time Means Nothing to This Man (Part II)

So... I left you just as I was arriving at Narc's place on Saturday night.

When he opened the door, his face was lit up. It was a Narc I haven't seen in a long, long time. His face seemed swollen (in that alcohol-swollen way) and more open somehow. He was smiling. He had on black pants and a black shirt that was open leaving his chest hair and his gut exposed. He smelled sweet-- a mixture of dark liquor and cigarettes. His eyes seemed wider apart, somehow, and they were red... purely bloodshot and red. I missed him so much.

"Hey, Hyde!" he smiled. "I was just... I was just looking at some pictures."

Narc has a gorgeous, enormous TV mounted on his wall. He had hooked up his laptop to the TV and it was randomly flipping through his photos, so that they were coming up, projected larger than life. The soundtrack was something New Age-- Brian Eno, maybe? It was strange. He was burning incense and smoking cigarettes. Everything through a veil of smoke and smells seemed surreal.

He went to stand near the window, leaning his back against the wall. His face darkened.

"I had a great night," I said. "It was so much fun."

"At least one of us did."

"Why? What were you up to?" I asked.

He told me about some party he had been at with ModelChick and his friend Laurie. He got stuck talking to some woman he didn't want to talk to.

"All of these gorgeous women in their mid to late 30's," he said. "All of them so desperate, but not willing to settle for anyone not rolling in cash. They're all going to end up alone. All they want is money, and all they do is end up fucking 'the Snake.'"

"The 'Snake?'"

"Yes... James, or someone like him... Until the time comes when they don't want the Snake anymore and the Snake doesn't want to fuck them either, but it's too late and they're alone and desperate."

"That sounds pretty depressing, Narc," I said.

"That's what happens to single women in NY."

"That's not going to happen to me."

"No?"

"No. Wait and see... I'll invite you to my wedding," I laughed.

"I'm sure you will, Hyde," he slurred with a smile.

That was the theme of the night, it seemed-- gorgeous women who wouldn't settle for "nice guys" like Narc, but instead got charmed by "hot guys" or "rich guys" (like James?) and then complained about it into their 40's. I had a feeling that I had walked in on a "pity party" in progress.

Narc started to tell me how one of these gorgeous "older" women was in love with her friend and pined for him for two years only to be told that he wouldn't marry her because she "wasn't Jewish." He then told me how he had once hooked up with his friend Robin, and even though he wasn't interested in her, when he called her to make sure she knew he wasn't interested, she said she wasn't interested either because he "wasn't Jewish." I was praying, praying, praying that Narc wouldn't turn Anti-Semitic on me. Thank God it stopped there, because I'm not sure what I would have said or done if he had...

Narc went on about "the snake."

"You're no different, Hyde," he insisted. "You want the snake too. You're not interested in nice guys who are interested in you!"

(This conversation was taking an interesting turn...)

Occasionally pictures of PopStar came up on the screen, mixed in with his other photos. Narc doesn't call her "PopStar" anymore. Now he just refers to her as "the Russian." Every time she came up, he rolled his eyes.

"Get that Russian off my TV," he would say.

It was all very strange.

After a prolonged chain smoke, he came to lay down on the couch. Still, with that familiar sweet smell. I put my head on his stomach, like a cushion. I felt like I loved him. I'm so much more comfortable with drunk-Narc. I really do miss him. He looked down at me with those red eyes. A picture of his first girlfriend came up on the screen.

"That's M," he said.

"I know who that is," I smiled. "I know who all your girlfriends are."

"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," I said. "Do you want me to name them?"

I went through all of them.

"Very good," he said. His smile seemed half flattered and half uncomfortable.

"Well, I pay attention," I said, burrowing back down into his stomach.

Narc was pointing out the details, people, places and things in all of his photos.

"But you probably don't care!" he exclaimed at some point. "Why would you care about these photos? I wouldn't care if I were looking at someone else's photos."

"Well, you and I are different people," I said. "Of course I care. I love learning stuff about you. I love seeing your past."

He didn't answer, but instead, sort of grunted in a condescending way, as if he knew I would say that. I didn't care.

"I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight," he said, with a sudden change of tone.

Narc started to tell me that he had fallen in love with Darryl Hannah in Splash when he was a little kid.

"It's the first woman I was in love with," he explained. "I used to think I had a thing for blonds," he went on, "but I don't. It's not about blonds. It's all Jungian archetypes. And I'm just looking for my mother... a somewhat ditsy blond who's not interested in me."

"That's what you want?" I laughed. "I get it. I'm the same way. I'm always looking for withholding guy who drinks too much. There's nothing like an unavailable alcoholic."

Narc looked at me with a smile when I said that.

"It's crazy how much your childhood stuff can fuck you up," I said.

He had a strange glint in his eye.

"It's fucked up," I just kept talking. "It's so ridiculous. You're so much better than that, Narc! You really want a ditsy blond? It's like a joke."

"Now it's the pot calling the kettle black," he said.

It was a strange moment. But it was open. The channels were open again. Open, open, open! ("What every man needs is air, air, air!" Dostoevsky said something like that...) The openness of it all...

It was cold in his bedroom that night and he cuddled me close without a guard. He was tired though.

I wanted to be with him on Sunday morning. I wanted that connection to still be there. But the sun was up and the spell was broken and he was asleep like a rock. I woke up an hour or two before him and stayed silent in bed, wanting to have sex with him, but not wanting to wake him or bother him. So, I did nothing. Instead, I squinted to read the titles of all the books stacked up against the wall. I had to meet my sister in midtown at 1:30. I would have to be out of there by 1:00.

He didn't wake up until I had given up and consigned myself to getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To take a knitting class with my sister," I said, pulling on my shirt.

He tugged me back into bed. I had only ten minutes.

"Enough time," he said.

I gave him a blow job.

"On that note, I have to go."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and scurried out the door.

BigSis and I have both been talking about wanting to learn how to knit for a while. I finally took the initiative and found us a teacher on CraigsList. We met in a Starbucks in midtown and sat for two hours, emerging with fuzzy green patches that looked like knit pickles, or "nose-warmers," as BigSis suggested. I sent a picture of my scrap to Narc. He wrote back that I'd be making a scarf in no time. I felt close to him again. Something had shifted. (At least in my perception...)

After that, I went home, showered, changed and headed off to AA for the 7:00 PM meeting. I hadn't been to an AA meeting since Tuesday. It was really no good. I lost the thread, and perhaps was going a little mad. Perhaps that explains my disorientation. In any case, it was a good meeting, but my head wasn't in the game. I was restless and wanted to get out of there.

On the way out, Pixie and I got to talking. Then we got to walking. I walked her all the way to the subway at Union Square and we talked and talked and talked... It was one of those awesome conversations that happens when you're getting to know someone and making a real spiritual connection-- when you realize that you think in a philosophically similar way and can show each other new things about the world. I love when friendships like that are being born.

On Monday I slept in, as I was feeling a little run down. I was frustrated to find that I have another UTI-- the second one this month. After watching Rock of Love, I did get my act together in time to meet B at school for lunch. We ate in the school cafe and just chatted and caught up. He is finally motivated on his dissertation and is feeling really good about himself because of it. It's wonderful to see. Afterwards, I went to the library for a while and then over to the gynecologist to get some antibiotics. Meanwhile, Narc and I texted back and forth for a little while about Rock of Love and our shared love of really lame TV. Hmm... he was still strangely present.

Later in the afternoon, I caught up with VJ on the phone and then headed off to my Monday night meditation meeting. There were some newcomers there and I got to talk to a few of them. Given that I've been feeling "out of the loop" with AA this week, it was nice to "be of service" again. I was tired and wanted to head home afterwards, but Pixie convinced me to go out to the watch. It was nice because I got to see my "sober sister" Leseco there. I haven't seen her around in a while.

When I got home (around 11:00 PM) I plopped on top of my bed and watched more bad VH1 reality TV-- this time The Pick Up Artist. Narc wrote.

Ugh... Why oh why did I order that Domino's pizza? (groan)

It was as good as an invitation.

We wrote back and forth for a little while. I fished for a more direct invite and got one. And so, at around 12:30 AM I headed down there yet again.

It was again, pretty standard. We watched the end of Californication. Narc was in a towel. We chatted and then went to bed. I had a strange dream last night that he was marrying the Exhibitionist. Pixie was in my dream. Narc told her that I was pregnant. Maybe I was again in my dream. The dream passed though, at some point in the middle of my sleep. And then I don't remember anything for the rest of the night.

This morning we slept in until after 11:00 AM. It was a long sleep. We woke up to the sound of my phone ringing in the other room. (I later checked the message. It was Brick from LA). Narc got up to check his email.

"The building turned the water off today," he said, "so, no showers..."

My face was still buried in the pillow.

While he was on the computer, his phone rang. It was James. He picked it up.

"Lunch? Sure," he said. "BG? Yeah, that sounds good. I just got up. I slept ten hours last night or so. No, I didn't go out. Um... I can be there in about twenty minutes or so... Ok. See you there."

I shouldn't be surprised that he didn't mention me to James. I shouldn't be surprised that he made plans to have lunch with James in 20 minutes and didn't invite me. I shouldn't be surprised at all. He has been entirely consistent for the past three years and three months... It used to hurt a lot. I used to rail against such "negation." But it doesn't hurt nearly as badly anymore. I don't expect what I used to expect. It's almost strangely amusing. I can finally see "my part." If I don't want to be with someone who treats me like that, I don't have to keep coming around. It's entirely up to me.

Twenty minutes to the Blue Goose... I'd have no time to get ready. But Narc climbed back on top of me and hugged me from behind. We used whatever was left of the 20 minutes to have sex. Then I had to throw my clothes on, scarf down my vitamins and go.

He walked me to the corner where I got a cab. I talked to Bezoukhoff and then Brick on the phone in the cab. Bezoukhoff pleaded that I return to The Brothers Karamazov. I agreed. The weather is gorgeous today-- 60-degrees or so. I think I'm going to go do some work on the roof...

My final word on Narc? He disappears for days, weeks, months... Days mean nothing. Weeks blend into weekends. Night blends into morning. He disappears and then he returns. It means nothing. It means nothing. It means nothing. Nothing ever changes. I have nothing to be anxious about.

Time means nothing to this man.

I need to go do some school work. I need to go feel some fresh air.

-h-

"You ought to thank God, perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the great expiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must fulfill the demands of justice. I know that you don't believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!"