Buckets of Rain

I ran into 31 yesterday. The last time I saw him I woke up at his place and rudely refused his brunch invitation to rush home because I didn't feel well. That turned to be day one of my decline. By the end of that week, I was in emergency mode, the first emergency. Since it's been since August, it was nice to see him. Although I was rude once again and didn't get off my phone to really greet him I did notice his brown eyes glistening and remembered. I had almost forgotten how great he was because of how annoying things got with the end that dragged on forever not being replaced by our old friendship. Seeing him for two minutes made me absorb the beautiful gift he gave me which was a lot more than breaking my X-month long dry spell (I can't even write the number, certain things must remain private!).

It all started with our awkward first day of work. I got there first. It was a sweltering day and a 3-train commute to Varick street. I was exhausted yet eager to work because I needed the money. Then he came in. I was happy to see him but didn't have much to say. I couldn't remember the last time we had seen each other sober. Additionally, we had been carrying on a drunken text flirtation for a couple of months and emailed often adding to the in-person awkwardess. We had some adjusting with each other to do. Or at least I did. I felt uncomfortable and I had to put on the 'Briana Show.' Within a day or so, there was no longer a need for the 'Briana Show' as we became miraculously and completely in sync replete with lunch, breaks, coffee, comfort, catching up. I am usually much the loner on projects like that. When I work crazy long hours I crave all the alone time I can get. But I was able to do that get that reprieve while in his company. I could say anything I normally would have thought to myself. Well, everything except for one thing; the physical tension between us that was growing stronger every second. I hadn't felt closer or spent so much time with anyone in so long. It was a heady, intense experience for me and having just had one layer of my stagnancy replaced by this friendship enabled my world to open just a little bit.

We got moved to a new location and he saved me a seat next to his. We removed our headphones whenever the other wanted to talk. I was never annoyed when he interrupted even my favorite song. Although they didn't have to be, there was enough room, our chairs and legs were often touching. We were in sync; 14 hour days, seven days a week for two weeks. On July 2, it abrubtly ended and we were sent home. We shared a cab back to Brooklyn. He went out drinking and wanted me to meet him. I got home, my first time in two weeks with time to relax and the apartment all to myself. I cracked open a beer and melted into the couch, remote control in hand, wondering what he was doing, feeling oddly alone without him. Simultaneously, my phone started vibrating with a text message from him, "Having 31 withdrawals yet?" I was and I responded in kind. He implored me to meet him at the bar. I wanted to but I was already a little bit drunk and exhaustion was starting to sink in. Anyway, I knew what was going to happen the next time I saw him outside the confines of work and I wanted to bring my 'A' game for that. So I resisted. He texted me the next morning something about being hungover and how I had the right idea in not joining him. On July 4, he texted me a happy fourth. We were clearly still in sync, still feeling each other's rhythm, the comfort, the routine.

We tried to set something up for the fourth. I spent the day with AC, my then roommate. He was barbecueing at a bar in Park Slope but said he'd be back in the neighborhood later on in the evening. I confided in AC about my plans for when 31 arrived. She asked what I was going to do. I told her it was inevitable; that it would just happen. There was absolutely no way we were going to be in each other's presence with alcohol involved and not at least hook up. Hours later AC and I are having a blast at a bar losing at darts to these two guys when the fireworks started. We went outside to watch. I texted 31.

9:44 ME: Can you see the fireworks from there?
9:44 31: On the tv at the bar
9:45 ME: Not the same. They're beautiful.
9:46 31: I'll be there right when it ends
9:47 ME: Here?
9:47 31: Yup.
9:50 31: Actually gotta meet some people at the Exit (another bar)
9:52 ME: That sucks. What about my withdrawal.
9:53 31: Might be able to work something out
9:54 ME: Ok.

Sometime after that he called me to tell me he was leaving Park Slope and ditching his friends to come meet me . He arrived after having trouble getting car service and ultimately having to walk. After completing my last game of darts I joined him at the bar. I don't know what we were talking about but he said something about us making out. He was probably joking, obviously joking and I said, "there's a phone booth in the back, want to go there?" Suddenly we were in a mad rush for a place to go. I told him that I had stopped making first moves and he was going to have to make it. We ended up outside, about a block from the bar and he made the move. It was everything I had expected and hoped it would be and more because he reeked of barbecue from barbecuing all day, which became an added element about the night that increased the intensity of the moment. It soon became obvious we'd have to go to one of our houses. We ended up at my place, a block away. It was pretty insane. Between fullfilling this crazy sexual tension (it was goood), the rain pouring loudly outside and the smell of barbecue wafting off of him, it was a complete sensory experience.

So the gift was the bonding we did when we were spending 14 hour days together disarming both of us who usually have our guards up. It was the level of comfort I allowed myself to feel around him because I allowed myself to be me around him, unfiltered, unedited, unapologetic. I was flirtatious, annoying, funny, demanding, whatever I was feeling. I let him make me coffee which felt amazing because at that point I never let people do anything for me (except buy me drinks of course). It marked the beginning of me learning how to live life and live in the present tense and enjoy the moment and be comfortable being myself again. Those lessons were overdue after the year and a half I had had where mere survival was the goal. Now it became actual living.