Perfect

LOUIS
Have you ever wished for the ground to burst open so wide you can’t keep standing anymore? Have you wished for molting earth to make you disappear so you can never be found? I don’t know why I’m still thinking about all this when Mia’s already on the bed and all I have to do is get on top, do everything I know she wants me to do, everything that I want to do to her, and it will keep going—the charade, the travesty that is my life, the sham that is our ‘relationship’ if you can even call it that. Is it a relationship when you’re the only one giving a shit? Louis, I love you but you can’t own me. But hey, nobody’s perfect. No relationship ever satisfies two people the same way.
Everybody’s got their demons, right?
I certainly hope so, because otherwise I’m screwed.
I know I have the looks, because I know women who are willing to do anything for me. I’ve been told my light brown hair and sea-green eyes are an irresistible combination along with my smile.
I can bring any woman down on her knees.
Well, anyone except Mia apparently.
My dad used to say that the things you do end up becoming you. And you don’t realize it until it’s too late. He said that every time he did something wrong, which was often because my father happened to be a rich douche who played with other people’s money, but at least he always owned up to it. Sure every kid with a father idolizes him, and you want to do things differently, if not for your own sake then for your parents’, but my situation is going in a direction I never thought it would go. So naturally I’m not exactly proud of the way my life seems to be unfolding. Am I really the person I’ve become? Is this who I want to be in the next five years? Ten years? Will there even be five years or ten years or one year for that matter? How can you even trust anything when you can’t even trust life? Or death?
But despite the mistrust, despite the travesties and the charades, I find it hard to stop. I would like to think that this isn’t who I am, that I can stop if I want to but that would be fooling myself because I haven’t stopped yet. I keep going, and I don’t even know where I’m headed. Well, maybe I do know where and that’s what makes me so afraid of the future. It’s like I’m having midlife crisis in my twenties and I don’t get it. And if it was just my other…well let’s call them ‘excesses,’ I wouldn’t even be so worried. I’m twenty-two, the guilt trips should not be this bad but they are and even though I can’t help myself at times, my conscience won’t stop hating me for my transgressions. It’s like I have a moral compass, but at the same time I’m too obsessed with having fun and too busy being impulsive to really give a damn about change.
And then there’s Mia—alluring, fascinating and completely out of her mind with anticipation and so full of life you don’t know what to do with yourself when she leaves. All I know, is that I’m not one of those guys you know, the kind who throw their heart away every time a hot body walks by; I used to be okay with one night stands—I used to be okay with living my life my way until her—until Mia.
She changed me.
And then she wanted to date other men and it felt like she didn’t care anymore. And that just doesn’t sit right with me.
I want Mia to care; I want her to tell me her life is with me and no one else. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I used to like a good screw as much as the next guy until I found Mia but what Mia and I have is special. It’s enough for me, and it should have been enough for her, but it’s not. I used to hate myself a lot more than this, when Mia told me she wanted to be free to see other men. When we spent an entire weekend in my parents’ Hamptons’ beach house and I thought we had something. But apparently, she didn’t feel the same way.
But I had to make a choice. I could choose to be in an open relationship, or miss the chance to be with her forever, so I chose her. Honestly, it wasn’t even that hard of a choice. Living with it, now that was something I still haven’t gotten used to. When she said it, honestly, I thought I could do it. I thought I would be fine with her going on dates, but turns out that’s not true. These days, people do it all the time. I’m from the same generation, dammit, why can’t I be okay with this setup?
“Louis,” Mia says, as we make-out and she’s already breathless. “Where’s your head?”
“Right here, baby.”
I try to cover up the fact that I was preoccupied with destructive thoughts by making more of an effort towards the foreplay. She doesn’t even notice something’s wrong when the foreplay gets intense, and she’s moaning and clutching at me. “Fuck, Louis!”
I won’t lie. Sometimes, I feel like I’m competing with all those other men who sleep with her but I’ve known her long enough to know how to satisfy her so that’s never been a real problem. Yet, every time I do bring her closer to the brink, to the point of no return, well lust and love coincide to make a blissful explosion of pleasure and when I can hear her calling out my name because there’s just the two of us on the entire planet then nothing—nothing at all can come close to this feeling.
She’s still gasping for air when I’m done.
“You’re a total screamer,” I say, going towards her lips and kissing them while she’s still breathing hard.
“I know,” she says, laughing. “It’s embarrassing!”
“No,” I say as I nuzzle her neck. “It’s hot.”
She grabs me and pulls me up and we kiss hot and heavy. Her lips taste like the strawberry lip-gloss she always wears and even though it’s been over a year, I feel something strange happening inside me every time I so much as get a taste of it. Of course Mia’s more than happy to reciprocate and she’s no longer submissive.She tackles me to get on top and forces me to lie back down and her tongue makes wet trails on my bare chest. I’ve got an erection the size of a New York City skyscraper and she giggles when she unzips my pants.
“Hey,” I say. “Giggling while unzipping is rude!”
“My bad,” she says, and her hand reaches places I didn’t even know existed. “Didn’t know you were so sensitive,” she says when I make those sounds that are beyond my control.
“God…Mia!”
“What is it, Louis?” she says playfully. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” I almost yell. “If you stop, I swear to God I’m going to kill you.”
She does something with her tongue that makes me moan even louder. “Who’s the screamer now?” she beams.
“Fuck, Mia!”
I can’t believe I’m about to come so soon. I know, it sounds pathetic but no matter how much I try to hold myself back, it’s impossible.
She’s too damn good. “Mia,” I say. “You need to stop.”
But she won’t!
“Mia!!! Fuck!!!” I can’t even laugh now.
And then I have to forget about stopping because everything goes to a place where nothing is in my control any longer.

Notes