Damn It All to Hell

Chapter 14

This is such a comfortable bed. I can sink into the blankets and feel like the bed is swallowing me whole. I’m surrounded by a comforting haze of assuredness that all is right with the world.

Knowing that I am feeling better than the human body was ever intended to feel, knowing that I am part of an indescribable bliss, knowing that the man here with me is feeling almost exactly what I am feeling,...I know that I could never have a better understanding of the world. I know I am feeling something few people will ever be able to understand. I know I am feeling whatever feels best to me and only me. I know I’m happy. Plain happy isn’t good enough for me anymore; I need to be on drugs to be happy. I need to attain my happiness from a chemical that feeds my brain with the nourishment of all my fantasies, the nourishment that my brain and my body require to be fulfilled.

Gavin is kissing my entire body, and his touch feels so good. It’s like he’s touching me everywhere at once, causing the tingling that’s crawling all over my body. He’s all I’ll ever need to feel good.

I’m dizzy with pleasure, rolling in a cloud of ecstatic wonderment and extravagant perfection; I’m rolling on E like it’s the end of the world! Every breath fills me with such wonderful excitement. Every touch fills me with a boiling in my blood that overflows with the elation of ultimate orgasm. Everything in life, at this moment, is good.

Sex is so boring after you’ve had sex on E. It’s such a let-down unless you have E every time. If you do have E every time you have sex, it’s the most amazing sensation ever. Of course, it kind of ruins your ability to think anything else in life is even remotely interesting, but who cares? At least I feel good right now. It’s all about immediate gratification.

The bed is licking me with tongues of fiery passion. The ceiling is pressing down on Gavin, forcing him to crush me with the weight of his explosive body. The room is no longer attached to the ground; we’re spinning in the air, floating with angelic bodies in a heaven that’s better than anything ever found on earth. This is our heaven. This is the only thing in which we can believe. This we can see. This we can touch. This we can believe will make us happy for a moment before we die. This is our religion.

I don’t think I’m ever gonna come down. I’m screaming in such an awesome amazement that anything could possibly feel so good. I want to share my elation with the rest of the world. I have no inhibitions. I know there won’t be any repercussions to my actions. Well, except maybe the headaches and the addiction, but those are such minor details when compared to this feeling.

The ceiling is starting to fall back into place. It’s rising with the weight of a copper chandelier that mixes with the image of Gavin’s eyes as they float slowly into the background. The lights in the chandelier are shaped like candles, and they’re flickering with such an insistence that it’s driving me insane.

Aw, shit. ‘Gavin?’ Hello? I don’t think he heard me. ‘Gavin?’ Ah, I think I caught his attention...no, I didn’t. ‘GAVIN!’

“Yeah?”

‘How are you feeling?’

“Fading. You?”

‘Same.’

“That was good shit.”

‘Yeah, it was.’ Yeah, it was. That was some of the best E I’ve ever had. You never can tell how it’s gonna be. Sometimes you don’t even know how it was until the next day when you really stop to think about it. Generally, that means it was bad. If it’s really good, you know right away.

“Want some more wine?”

‘Okay.’ Might as well try to squeeze a little more excitement out of the evening. He’d better hurry up and give me some more wine. It might grab ahold of some of the quickly escaping remnants of the E...probably not, though. It’s pretty much gone. ‘Actually, maybe not.’ I don’t know how I’m gonna get home. I don’t even know where we are. ‘Where are we?’

“We’re at my place.”

‘I know that, dipshit, what town are we in?’

“Oh. Oakland.”

Oakland. Hm.... That’s not too far away. I can probably afford a cab home. I should go home. I’m bored now.

“Is everything okay?”

‘Yeah.’ I’m tired and I want to go home to go to sleep. This was fun and all, but I really have no need for sitting around drinking with this guy I barely know. The sex was fun, but sex would’ve been fun with anyone tonight. Of course, I wouldn’t have gotten the drugs if it weren’t for him. Maybe I should stay.

“You wanna go home, don’t you?”

‘Kind of.’

“Are you sure you’re okay? You had a lot in your system tonight.”

‘I’m fine. I’m a big girl.’ I can take care of myself, fuckhead. Does he think I’d randomly do drugs and then come home with him if I didn’t know what was going on? Even when I’m that fucked up, I know what’s going on. I might not remember it very well the next day, but at the time, I’m fine.

“You want me to call you a cab?”

‘Would you mind?’

“Naw, that’s cool.”

He’s used to this. He probably brings a girl like me home at least once a week. He’s good at dealing with it. Some guys do this on occasion, and then they don’t know how to handle it. It’s like they feel like they owe you something. It’s like they feel bad about having dragged you back just to have sex with them, so they try to make it up to you by being all awkward about it when you want to go home. I don’t understand why they don’t just let me go home without any objection. If I wanted more than a one-night deal, they’d know. Of course, if I wanted more than a one-night deal, I wouldn’t be looking for it in places like the bar we were at last night. That place is such a dive. It’s just good to go there for cheap drinks and one-night stands. Do they really think I’d go there to look for a soul mate?

“Where do you live?”

‘Eighteenth Street and Forbes.’ What a cool guy. He’s calling the cab company for me, and he just asked them how much it would cost. They apparently gave him an approximate figure, while he searched the pockets of the coat he wore tonight. Now he’s handing me a wad of crumpled money. ‘You don’t have to pay for it. I’m all set.’

“Take it.”

Well, okay, if you insist. ‘Okay. Thanks.’ Where the hell does he get all this money? He must’ve bought me at least five drinks last night and now he’s paying for my cab? This is so strange. He’s such a nice guy! I think I need a job like his, whatever it is. Trista’s never gonna believe this. She thinks I only find the losers.