by Alboba
Nestled into a beanbag I watched the smoke rise into the starry sky from our balcony floor. I was smoking weed with my boyfriend. It was nice, relaxing even. Another evening, I impatiently waited on Noel. As he was walking down the hallway, we smiled at each other. “OK, everything is prepared.” The flat was clean. I put on some candles and bought fairy lights to enhance the ambiance of the room. I had gotten rid of my boyfriend for the weekend. He knew nothing, and I was happy to keep him far away from my experiences. The table was standing in the middle of the living room, with a mattress on the floor with clean bedding that I had prepared for my guest. Noel pulled the tabs out of his bag. They looked like miniature stamps to put on miniature letters to send to a miniature Alice. Imprinted with a colorful purple it was quite the curiosity to me. “They drip the paper in the substance. You have to put it underneath your tongue and let the mucus absorb for ten minutes.” So I inserted half of a tab into my mouth. The taste was horrid. Bitter ink dripped down my throat. The first time I barely noticed anything. Noel’s warm aura filled the room. He couldn’t even leave for the bathroom without me complaining. After that first night, his visits became more frequent. I tried it several times until I had a good grasp of the experience. It was the first time in my life I allowed myself to lay down work. I floated to the ceiling, watching the earth turn. Watching trees grow over the stone surface of continents like moss over forest rocks, realizing that life tumbles in the same patterns in and out of itself from the infinitely smallest to the infinitely biggest, this code devouring any bit of space on earth relentlessly. It propelled my art and exploded my creative mind as I watched patterns form in the dots of my wallpaper. I painted galaxies and people floating into space. For the first time, I would live in my body, touching the soft bedding and feeling the pull of my alveoli breathing. I forgot the screens for a bit. I learned that life was not just work and it was nice. Noel told me of his friends and his life and how he had been getting by. How close his friend group was and how appreciative these young men were of each other as they grew up side by side like brothers. How girls faded in and out of their stories. And there sat Noel, talking about all of these genuine interactions. All of these people, all of these friends he had known for years. “And then, we were all sitting in a circle, and this guy is sitting there trying to eat. And he comes up to me and says his damn spoon isn’t working!” He talked of the life of a normal teenager. The first club visits and clumsy romances, his heartbreak. Driving around in a car and sharing experiences with other human beings. How he had been included everywhere he went. And I looked at it all and felt the bottomless pit of the empty vacuum my life had been. I looked at the barren walls of my tiny childhood room. The endless walks I took alone through the forests surrounding me. I thought about where I had been. “My dad would scream at me a lot. I had to have perfect grades and was forced to play the violin.” “That sounds like it was tough.” Noel genuinely looked after me. He was the first human being to participate in my pain. He took me in and hugged me when I cried. I sat there for hours talking about my pains. When I talked to Fabian about it, there was no impact on him whatsoever. He was an empty nut. So when I got high I hugged Noel tight for hours. I felt empathy for the first time in my life. And I didn’t want to let go.
© Alboba 2023-09-01