It starts with an itch...

You get a flash of your last hit, and brush it off as a fleeting thought. You continue about your day like nothing ever happened. 

You sort through your e-mail, check your facebook page and ignore that poke. Just as you reach to open a new tab another image flashes before your eyes, this time paired with the feeling you had. That rush of emotion floods your veins and your heart starts to race as if you're reliving the moment. Then in a blink it's over, leaving you wanting, hungry for more. What started as a little itch is now a rash.

Calm, stay, calm. Palms become moist and balmy, convinced yourself "That's my last time, I'll never need it again..." Yet here you are, fantasizing about how exciting one more time will feel. It seeps into your thoughts, simple things become a chore. Tossing in bed, trailing thoughts in the bathroom, the water runs for minutes as you gaze into the mirror no longer recognizing the face staring back. 

"I need it" The verbal admission. 

A wave rushes over, your stomach lurches. Standing mid step, frozen, completely aware of every involuntary movement in your body. Senses so heightened you'd put superman to shame.

Shake it off, shake it off. Act normal.

It spreads. You officially have the chicken pox.

You told everyone around you that you've kicked the stuff. You hide your addiction well though, you bolt down the street doing 60 mph in a 45.

"A pack of blacks, please?"   

"You're too beautiful to be smoking." 

You flash a slight grin, leaving the money on the counter. He doesn't see the rash, he doesn't feel the itch, there's nothing beautiful about the monster coursing through your veins.

Ripping the pack in a fever, you tell yourself, there's nothing wrong with Black & Milds, it could be worse. Just need to take the edge off. Put the plastic tip to your lips; fumbling for the lighter. The flame puts you in a daze.

Windows down, warm air blowing around you in a frenzy.

Inhale. 

Drowning in a sea of memories.

Exhale.

For the first time in days, you can truly breathe.

Inhale.

Heart beat slowly returns to it's normal pace.

Exhale.

Smoking again. Can't put it off forever. The monster must be fed, Scratch the itch.

Inhale.

The world is fooled, acting skills superb, Still addicted and no one knows. Cover those tracks well, don't you?

Exhale.

Tomorrow you have a date with your dealer. He knows exactly what you need, never more, never less.

Inhale.

Just enough to soothe the itch.

Exhale...

 

(24 hours later)

 

The rush of that hit was better than the last one. That is some premium stuff, "Seriously, this is my last time, I'll never need it again."

Home at last. You fly to your room and fall on your bed. Still in the clouds from the high of your last hit. You undress. Shirt glides over your face, the smell of the drug hits you. The events from that night recap in a fast forwarded montage. 

You bite your lip. Ignore the itch

"Where are my Blacks?" 

2:06 AM: What you doing?

I was sleeping, the above was a text from Fiasco. He was probably coming home from Hoboken or NYC or White Plains wherever the boys decided to pick up girls and get drunk that night.

 

Saturday nights I usually get texts like those, when I am awake we talk for a bit and I find my self speeding up the palisade passing Exit 11(my exit) and heading to Exit 14...

This all started months ago, when one night Trang and I went out with him and Mahjong*. I've gotten much thicker in all the right places and my legs were out and my dress was tight. Clearly he noticed me and noticed everyone else noticing me. We danced and suddenly his face was close to mine and we kissed.

 

I've known him since last summer when I joined the 21+ club... From the first time I saw him I wanted him...his body is to die for, everytime I look at him I go stupid. Trang spotted him when we were out in Nyack and said he looked like my type. I had already scoped him out and pictured what he could do to me (I have a nose for these things). But that night like many others he just passed me by. I learned that we had some mutual friends and started asking about him. I was told he has no game, which he doesn't and that he's 30(now he's 31 going on 32) which I didn't believe at first but now I know it's true.

So returning to March 2010 in that small techno NYC nightclub, After we kissed we were almost inseparable all night. When he left to get something to drink I tried talking to other guys but they left much to be desired so I want back to his arms as soon as he returned. He called me trouble and I called him a pussy (lol which he later told me turned him on).

Then I did something that I'm absolutely horrible at... I made him wait. I know that probaboly makes me sound like a super whore but I am extremely impatient when it comes to most things, and sex is no exception. For many nights we would go out, eat ice cream, have a drink, makeout and then nothing. No sex... It baffled me he didn't even try he would just roll over and fall asleep and I would lie there trying to figure him out.

Despite our nearly decade age difference I've come to realize we have a lot in common. We share the same taste in music of course he schools me on some things and I show the old dog new tracks. He tells me stories of back in the day when he was young and not a kid anymore. When he was a teenager i was still throwing tantrums... Still I found myself falling for the very type of guy I always said I would stay away from. 

Then after weeks of playing the "I'm going to convince you I'm not a common hoe" game, we slept together and it was great, which I expected. No pressure just plain ole enjoyable. So weeks went by and we were messing around and then it happens his relationship status changes on facebook and he is in a relationship with who I thought was his ex. Not only is she his "ex" but she has a kid. Which he claims is not his. Do you see my headache forming?

She obnoxiously posts on his wall everyday, those phrases that scream "baby I'll kill myself if you leave me..." I simply smh and continue to do him. Wrong? I guess. Cause she looks like she's trying to get a ring from him. I just want a good time. Besides he was waving the no commitment, I wanna be single flag pretty hard I dunno why any woman would stay if thats the case. For now he's giving me what I want... for the most part. 

So until I get bored, or I find something better, I'll keep being his "secret sex girl" as they called it on Sex and the City. I'm his young play thing, secret to the world and aspirin for the headaches his girlfriend causes. I like to think that I'm keeping them together...lol that's pretty bad... Let me stop

*exits stage left*

~Amira

So as my title suggests, there's a slight chance that trouble may rear it's ugly head. I dunno my spidey senses are tingling. Public Affection "friendly kisses", a hug that's a little too close, a look that could be taken another way. Perhaps my estrogen levels are absurdly high and i'm just reading into things that aren't there. As a matter of fact the more i think of it the more that I think I'm crazy for thinking this. Yea, him??? nah Can't be... Well I don't wanna be added to his list. So I'll just fall back and let his actions speak...I may indulge a tad just enough to prove that I'm right

Aside from my assumptions I've stated above I'm pretty much Y chromosome free. I haven't been interested lately and men are just so icky these days, all I see are walking breathing dirtbags. I'm waiting for someone to prove to me that not all men are goons. Unfortunately I feel like I may be waiting for a while, because New York is home of the goon...

School so far has been keeping me extremely busy.., Extremely. So far I've had a quiz every week and already had a paper due...It's been three weeks. I'm trying my hardest to keep up so I don't fall behind. I think this semester will be a good one. I'm taking Japanese the language is wild, but I'm determined to become fluent.

Anyway I dunno when the next time I'll update this, yea who knows...

EZ ~ Amira