Little girl, Big City

8pm 12.5.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

Looking back, I’m not sure how we got here but there we were.  It was one thing after another.  A domino of passion followed by pain followed by more passion.  Rinse and repeat.

The suited gent was on a destructive tangent.  He kept countering his actions.  One minute he was giving me the heavy about getting flowers from a paramour I dated years ago, the next minute he was telling me he wasn’t ready to be involved in a relationship.

“Why can’t you just be honest with me?  Are you just that incapable of doing that for anyone including yourself?”

“I’ve been more honest with you than any of them.” he told me.

“Why?”

“Because you see the man behind the curtain.”

I think about the morning I saw him in the windowpane.  He was completely right.

You could cut the silence like a thick fog.  He walked upstairs to his room.  I picked up my keys and grabbed my purse.  I don’t know why he holds back so much.  I don’t know why I do either.  But he’s right.  I’m right.  And maybe that’s why I was attracted to him in the first place.

From one magician to another- it’s difficult living in both worlds magical and real sometimes.

7:30pm 11.16.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

“I know what you two did.  I heard it.  I don’t appreciate it happening.  I told you I didn’t want it happening when I was home.”

I was a doe in headlights.  Yes, we had done the deed but it was when we specifically thought she had been gone.  We felt bad about it.  We felt great about it.  He and I were both in the moment.  It caught us and swept us away.  I couldn’t help but think that whatever it was was a serendipitous intersection to say the least.  What if this was the last chance I had before he moved to New Orleans?  What if I was never going to see him again?

I apologized emphatically to her and texted the suited gent.

“Shit.  She just called me.”

“I know.  You and I are stopping all together.”

My heart sank.  I didn’t want to be in the space.  I had to go home.  To the one place in Los Angeles that rang home the most- with my friends at the Brewery.

I called a friend and left a message.  He was at Mindshare.

“The house of cards fell out from under her yet again and Alice fell with it.  But it was comforting and scary at the same time.  Because this is the all too familiar world that she knew.”

Perhaps we really should have stopped everything that night.  Perhaps it was an omen amongst omens…

Why didn’t I listen?

10:11am 12.3.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

It had been some nice conversation.  Decisions and things in the future.  A luxury shared space in South Park or my own place in the historic core of Los Angeles, walking distance from work.

“There’s a lot over there.  I never go over there because I don’t want to pay for parking.  It’s more convenient.  You wouldn’t have to worry about food.  There’s grocerry stores and restaurants.  Lowry’s is over there.”

“The seasoned salt?”

“Yes but it’s a restaurant.  They became famous here in LA.  Best prime rib in the city.”

“Hmm I’ve never been.  Maybe you’ll visit me and we’ll go?”

“Yeah.  It’s something to think about.  I’m going to take a shower now though.”

He got up and I stretched my arms out for a hug.  It was stupid and cheesy but there it was.”

He pointed to his room where one of his friends was napping and joined his fingers.  He pointed to me and then separated them again.  He drops everything for her.  Is she really his best friend or is she more?

“Derby tonight?”

“Maybe.”

We’d been planning it for weeks.  I’d already bought his ticket.  I washed my hands of it.

“Forget it.”

I’m not going to be anyone’s “maybe”.

4:25pm 11.12.11

Scene: outside a loft building in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

It was a rushed turn of events.  My friend that I had been staying with previously at the Brewery informed me that the management was on his case about more than just the leaseholders being there.  I had to find another spot temporarily and it was to be immediate.

I’d talked to this woman on the phone the night prior and a bit that morning.  A friend of a friend was extending the favor.  One month to find that new spot.

I can do this, I know I can.

She couldn’t get there to meet me before the game.

“My friend will be there.  He’s staying with me too.  He just graduated.  He’s also staying there temporarily.  But don’t worry, you will like him I’m sure.  Here’s his number.  Call him and he will show you the space.”

The first thought in my head was “Oh great.  He’s going to be an irresponsible kid.”

I shrugged it off.  My friend Steven and I got in the car and headed over.

Admittedly, I had also thought in the back of my head “I hope that he’s cute.”  But the logical me told myself “I really hope that he’s not cute.”

The lofts were nestled next to one of my favorite galleries downtown- The Hive.  It was walking distance from work.

I dialed this boy.

“Be right down.”

Steven and I stood outside the checkered hallway waiting for the elevator to open.  I held my breath as the old black door opened.  Out walked the most adorable man I had ever seen dressed in a black tie, black slacks, white dress shirt and dark shoes.

“Hi, I’m Dan.” he said and shook my hand.

As he turned to unlock the elevator, I looked over at Steven.  I didn’t have to say anything.  He and I both knew.

I took another breath before he turned back around.

“Hi.  I’m Jen.  Nice to meet to you.”

2:15 pm 11.20.11

Scene: a kitchen in a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

I’d been talking to a former something that had moved away across the pond ages ago about them, but didn’t know if he’d actually do it.  Sure enough, they’d arrived.  It was my second week here and I already had flowers at my desk.

The card that graced the vase of lilies simply read:

“To someone who still wonders what if”

Friday morning I was glowing.  What a fantastic way to end my second week here.  I contemplated whether or not to bring them home or to leave them at work over the weekend.  I wasn’t sure how the suited gent was going to react, despite us only seeing each other (non exclusively) for the little time that we had.  That answer, it seemed, would come this Sunday morning.

“You shouldn’t be accepting gifts from other men if you’re wanting a relationship.”

It came out of no where.  This was coming from the man who exuded “Mr. Unavailable”.

“The men who have sent me things have an understanding.  I don’t feel bad about it because, as petty as it sounds, these things make me smile.  And, last I noticed, I wasn’t in a relationship. ”

I thought about the card.  About the day he’d left for overseas all those years ago.  About how he’d asked me to go with him but I just couldn’t.

The conversation with the suited gent continued as he made us our late breakfast.  It was a bit silly.  Why was he even saying this when we had barely known each other but a week.  This has been a pattern with other men I’ve dated.  Why do they worry so much about silly things?

“He lives on another continent.  I don’t know why you are giving me the heavy about this.”

I’d held back the fact that he was going to be stateside to visit his family over the holidays.  He didn’t need to know that.  Quite frankly, it was none of his business anyway.  We were not in a relationship last I noticed.

“You two sound like you’re married!”  our friend chimed in from the room above us.

I wonder if this yet another gent who will be asking me that same question years later.

9:21pm 11.18.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

I don’t want him to move away.

“Isn’t it weird how naturally comfortable we all are together?” she asked.

I think back to not quite a week ago.  To the debut of the most adorable man I’d ever laid eyes on.  These would be the honeymoon days.  The days that I’d later look back on and glow thinking about.

Tonight as he was getting ready to go out with his friends, he made a point to stop and tell me goodbye, but slipped.

“I almost fell.  I almost fell for you!”  he said with a laugh.  And in my mind I wondered if something else slipped in that moment.

Perhaps it was nothing.

Perhaps it was something.

Perhaps it was both in that same moment.

I held his hand tight and kissed it.

“Have fun tonight.”

I don’t want him to move away.

8:30am 11.29.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

This part of the trip was always supposed to be a temporary spot.  I knew that from the immediacy that it happened, and had been forever grateful to this wonderful angel with a name to match.  On Monday morning she reminded me again.

“My friend is going to be here on the 16th.  I just wanted to give you a heads up because I want the apartment to myself then.  Even [the suited gent] will have to find somewhere else at least while my friend is here.”

Now, granted, I knew this was her space, and it had always been my intention to move sooner rather than later.  However, was she just telling me he had to be gone too to be polite or was it really true?

It’s none of my business either way.  I’m going to make it so.

Another morning with the suited gent and it came into conversation:

“I have to find another place to be when he comes in.  We might both be homeless then.”  he said with a bit of a light unknowing laugh.

A flashback entered my brain again.  This time was the day after I’d arrived…

“I heard you two come in last night.  You two are hilarious.”

“We had a good time.” I said as I looked to him and bit my lip with a smile.

“You know what’s going to happen right?”

We both looked at her in wide eyed wonder.

“You two are going to get a place together.”

I heard a text and snapped out of the daydream. The words fumbled, but made their way out.

“Well, maybe if I get my place by then you can stay with me that weekend.”

8:47am 11.30.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

In the mornings I sometimes catch him as I’m getting ready for work.  The suited man, without the suit still has his endearing moments.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

Our chatter changes course like a stream of consciousness- from, this morning,  banter about which documentary for him to watch to… bitching about the travesty that is panini.

“They take this delicious bread and they ruin it and call it a sandwich.” Bitch bitch bitch.

“Quick, name three foods you love.  Ready, set, go!” I clap and throw my hand his way.

“Lobster.  Prime rib.  Oysters.”

“Positivity Mr. Humbug!”

“You still like me.” he said with a smile as he drifted into a deeper tangent about food.

I kissed his cheeks and didn’t reply.  He looked up at me and stopped.  He gave me those eyes.  I’m a sucker for those eyes.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re alright I guess.”

11:26pm 11.26.11

Scene: a dark windowpane facing a red bricked alleyway, Gallery Row Los Angeles

There are some scenes where you see in a movie but you don’t believe they would ever happen.  This night was one of them.

Over the holidays, the trio of Three’s Company had done their own things.  The lady of the house had gone up north for a few days, leaving the house for the suited gent and I to do what we will.

“Feel free to have as much sex as you want while I’m gone.” She’d said with a laugh just a few days prior.

On Sunday evening was the time where the three of us finally got to relax a bit, each in our own separate but intersected worlds.

There are many things about the suited gent, unbeknownst to this crowd as of current, that have lead several to believe that he truly is in his own little world.  He’d come home and chatted a few minutes with the ladies before going up to roost in the cave he calls his temporary (but long term) room.  It once had been occupied by a child far younger than this gent.  A little girl that loved the magic of make believe and childish whimsey.

The attachment to boyish dreams is part of his appeal.  He and I talked about his forays in movie watching this weekend as he hopped from Hugo to The Muppet Movie with several of his friends. I was disappointed at this news- a bit different than what I’d heard from other artist friends I’d seen earlier in the day.

My day, spent separately, had also been bustling nonstop go go go adventure.  Shopping downtown.  Mimosas and hamburgers (as classy ladies do).   Visits with friends.  Apartment viewings.  I’m not sure where this bird is going to land… and it’s simply fantastic.  Go go go.

At last, I was to retire to my computer and music.  The lady was on the couch.  He- in this cave.

The loft was dark.  I looked up to the windowpane at the red bricks that have greeted me these two weeks and smiled at the sight that filled the scene.  The light of his room illuminated a box on the wall of the building across the alleyway.  He truly was in another world… living across the alley.. in a yellow lit room surrounded by brick.

You were a fantasy cloaked  in reality.

545 am 11.18.11

Scene: a couch in a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

It was a restless sleep yet again tonight.  There’s just too much excitement in the air.  A new job.  A new place in the works.  A new romance.   I’m not sure of all the details or how long anything will last, but, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I feel washed over with peace.

The unnamed gent went out with friends last night and so did I.  I got in early and ended up reading before I passed out.

The red bricked wall across the alleyway was still dark when I awoke.  This may not be the city that never sleeps but it sure does make it difficult at times.

There is an energy racing the streets of downtown Los Angeles.  It is a fever that whips through and catches you like the sun as it peers its head and smiles down from atop a skyscraper.  I’ve got the fever and it’s not going away anytime soon.

It has become routine for me to wake up earlier and earlier.  While the city sleeps and the bricks turn their bright reds and whites, is when I can gather my thoughts and relax without worry or care for another soul.

And then I felt his kiss.

Dressed in a suit and tie, he had come home again.

“Did you have a good time tonight?”  I asked him.

“Very much so.  I’m going to eat an apple and go to sleep.  I’ll let you get back to your writing.”

We hugged and chatted a few minutes before he wandered up to his cave.

Good morning Los Angeles.  Good morning.