Bone Machine: Part 3

So you start to think back, you say, hey, let's think back, where did this start?
So you start to think back.
The morning after, you had left. You remember leaving. Walked out of your own house and hoped she would find her way out, before you would come back.
Hours after, with your legs dead and heavy and your head collapsing because nothing was in it, you walked inside.
There she was. She was sitting on your kitchen counter, she had pulled herself up, she was pulling down a bowl. She had a gallon of almost sour milk and Trix.
She was still naked.
And you remember, you coughed, because you didn't want to say anything but you wanted her to know you were there.
And she was naked on your counter.
You remember feeling slightly dissapointed but slightly glad she didn't leave.
She turned to you and smiled.
She had no right canine. You didn't remember that.
She slips off your counter and comes to hug you.
You did not expect that. You did not expect to feel that shock in your heart when she wrapped her arms around you, pressing against you and whispering something you don't remember in your ear.
And as soon as she was there, she left. She came back with one of your tshirts on and a pair of your underwear and your socks.
She had made herself present in your life. She was not leaving.

Her name, at that moment, was Aydan Lipnicki.

You wonder what it is now.

Bone Machine: Part 2

Where Is My Mind - Pixies

You wake up the morning after. The pounding, blinding, screaming soaring headache pounding against your eyelids is enough to stop you from getting to the toilet, and if that wasn't problem enough, you currently have your legs and arms and body intwined.
With a girl.
And so the memories come flooding back - last night, the laughter, the forest green, the Smashing Pumpkins and god, did you take like 100 shots? So you pull yourself away from this girl, this sleeping carcass, green loving, half-Mexican hellcat, and stumble to the bathroom.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize you are naked.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize what you did last night.
This takes place in a total of .85 seconds, you applaud yourself for a job well done.
Opening the cabinet, you grab the little red capsules, pour four out into your hand and down them without water.
Why not just walk back and take a second peak?
Even when you aren't wasted, you can tell she's gorgeous. Beautiful. The way the sunlight casts against her bare figure as she's covered in your Power Ranger sheets is enough to send you back into bed with her, to sleep for a few more hours, to wake up and make her breakfast.
Instead, you grab a piece of paper and a Mariott Hotel pen, the one you stole because you can, and write down an excuse for you being gone for a few hours.
You place it on your nightstand, you place your socks on your feet, your jeans over your jegs, your shirt over you torso.
You place your mind over your heart, and you leave.
Let's see how long you can stay away until she leaves.

This is the endless cycle.