A Night With Lyssa and a Slow Morning (Part 3)

Bedtime Confessions

Watching television for a fair while as I finally started to hug Lyssa on the bed, we decided it was time to get some sleep. Being 10:15 p.m. it was very early for me considering my usual nights but despite the building chronology and pressure, it was a welcomed change. What upset me through the night was how Lyssa would naively brag of her weekends at a nightclub and who she got onto.

Lyssa told me how she doesn’t head out to the ‘Glasshouse’ nightclub anymore because she doesn’t want to see Yosef there anymore. When questioning her on the reason Lyssa just passed upon the fact of his only wanting sex in which I tied it to that night Lyssa asked my opinion. Lyssa made me angrier when she noted “But oh, I met someone else on the weekend” letting out a sigh of carnal reminiscence.

It seemed that she would moisten by her thoughts of this such person and as I know Lyssa all too well, the thoughts in my mind that it was the American guy was true. Lyssa told me how she got onto that American guy who worked at a bar last weekend or prior in which she stayed out with him until 6:00 a.m. and got his email address.

Lyssa was even brazen enough to ask if I had the internet so she could chat to him online. There are some things you don’t share with your ex and one of those things avoidable is chat of current flings or anything regarding what I used to grasp sensually and what they now grasp lustfully. To this day, Lyssa swears she has not been groped by any man apart from me but with all these guys she continued to meet at clubs, I’m starting to wonder.

A Song on the Radio

Feeling the need to listen to the radio as we started to drift off, I had it turned on to a very low level of volume. Intent on hearing ‘Ricky Martin’ Lyssa told me how she thought he was the hottest guy, not because of his looks but because of his charisma. “He’s nowhere near as good looking as Brad Pitt but somehow, he just has the biggest sex appeal” she revealed. As we listened to the radio I was completely taken when Lyssa let out a little whimper.

“What’s wrong” I asked her as she let out another sob. As Lyssa told me nothing was wrong I persistently kept asking for the truth. “You won’t want to hear what I have to say” Lyssa cried but after I sarcastically uttered “Is this the song that you and Yosef danced to” and my intrigue finally got to me, she unleashed the truth. The song playing on the radio was one from Red Hot Chili Peppers and the reason Lyssa was crying was because it reminded her of Yosef.

This confused me somewhat as she didn’t like Yosef but it discomforted me also knowing that Lyssa was crying for some other guy in which she shared herself much less than with myself. Lyssa sadly told her story of how she had a great time when with Yosef and it put me down in a way, knowing I can never reverse that clock to give her as good a time.

What Might Have Been

I would have liked Lyssa and I to go out more, to do more stuff like skiing, a holiday, a cruise or even heading out to clubs together. I wanted Lyssa to be as proud of me as I was of her when she would walk up to me looking so gorgeous, making me and all my friends think “How lucky is Tony”. I wanted Lyssa to think how lucky she was to have someone like me but unfortunately, I can only dwell on ‘What ifs’.

Placing my arm under Lyssa’s head so that we could embrace each other in lost particles of our past love, it felt right to be there but not right to be hers. The love of Lyssa has gone now. I used to always see Lyssa through rose-colored glasses and although she looked beautiful almost all the time, I used to see the beauty even when she was waking up in the mornings.

I would see past blemishes with love but now, with the glasses of love finally off, I am not as naïve with love as previously sought. Now if I feel Lyssa doesn’t look as attractive as what she usually does when going out I will feel all the more wary of making that plunging mistake. I’m sure Lyssa felt the distaste of my getting larger in the end stages of our breaking up but now, with my new clothes, new thinness and new pride, Lyssa is noticing the best in me again.

I used to think that Lyssa was always above me in the stakes of always looking beautiful but now that I can see the real her and the improved me I can either feel equal enough to be in her presence or overlying. Having my arm around Lyssa, I felt like she was appreciative, thinking that my hand around her was as comforting as Yosef or some other guy’s embrace.

A Night of Waking

Not too long after getting ourselves to bed did Lyssa finally fall to sleep. Fifteen minutes into the music I decided to turn it off because I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep but I didn’t have too good a time staying in an elapsed state of unconsciousness. Through the whole night I frequently woke up but I do take that upon me as a boon. The reason I prefer my slumberous night over a well slept one is due to the fact that I had more conscious memories of Lyssa.

Each time I woke up I would be able to place my loving hand under her head again or move closer to her. I would be able to look at her closed eyes barely visible in the darkness and ponder upon our past and our being together. Basically, each time I would wake up I would cherish the moments with some sort of passing memory, be it my snuggling or seeing Lyssa’s reaction whilst being asleep. When I woke up at 2:00 a.m. I felt very replenished and as if I already had a good sleep.

Taking a look at the clock I was euphoric to the fact that I still had so much sleep ahead of me and yet, felt so good. The whole night was ahead of me and as I continually woke up and applied myself to Lyssa somehow, I did enjoy it much. Within the whole night I didn’t go any further than brushing my hand across Lyssa’s breasts in sake of curiosity. Why ruin such a good moment with past tendencies to act desperate…

Slow Morning

Arising bright and early was not a tendency easily abided in the morning as we paid no real heed to the alarm. Having been partially awake myself throughout the whole night and being accustomed to my chiming alarm I wasn’t phased upon hearing it in the morning. Nevertheless, through the lightening darkness I noticed Lyssa spring to confused attention as she kept whispering “What, what” in which she realized what was going on and uttered “That’s lethal”.

Getting ourselves back to sleep we were being rather lazy in getting out of bed. Despite my strong will of knowing that I was going to head to work for Tuesday without persuasions of staying home I wasn’t showing much sign of getting up and leading by example. I too was weighed down with the sharing of the morning and it wasn’t until 7:30 a.m. that we both decided it was time to jump out of bed.

Through the whole morning Lyssa kept noting how she didn’t want to get up, how she wanted to take a day off work. “You can crash at my house for a couple of hours and then head home” I pondered as she knew my will to head to work. That didn’t fall too well with Lyssa as she didn’t want to intrude but I knew, deep down, she wanted to prolong the day by persuading me inadvertently to stay home. It almost worked, her listless persuasion but I eventually jumped out of the waterbed and then Lyssa soon followed.

Deciding that I didn’t need a shower in the morning I grabbed Lyssa a towel as and allowed her to dip in first and foremost. As she headed to the bathroom she was probably thinking the same thoughts as myself. Handing Lyssa the towel, I was wondering if she thought I was going to jokingly bring up the two of us to have a shower to save time.

How obvious an attempt would that have been to see the both of us without any clothes on but something I think we both desired to ask. Lyssa would have been modest and repellant of the whole idea, brushing it aside as not too look as eager as she would have been. Lyssa knew not how to speed up her bids of getting ready in the morning.

Even as Lyssa gave me her pants to iron and I made us some light breakfast, I was still prepared and ready to go way before Lyssa. Depression set in for a couple of seconds as she noted that she looked like shit and meanwhile, I was all dressed up and looking like a million dollars. Lyssa prolonged our departure ever so more when she sat in front of the mirror preparing her makeup, as she noted, quickly…

Missing the Bus

Missing any opportunity of catching our regular bus I was surprised how Lyssa didn’t show any enthusiasm to speed up and slowed herself down once the news was heard. It was as if Lyssa knew she was going to take too long and she was just prolonging the inevitable. When Lyssa looked like she was just about ready I turned off all the devises in my room and grabbing my carry bag we headed down to the nearest bus-stop together.

Unsure as to when the bus would arrive and seeing no people waiting around I decided it would be best if we took a walk down to the bus-stop at Bradbury Shops. Cautiously we done so until we reached the outskirts of the bus-stop. Catching a bus and then the 7:45 a.m. train to the City, we communicated mostly on our way to the City. Conversation was sparse at most times as the both of us were tired and sharing another moment, Lyssa lay her head on my shoulder as I on her temple did place my resting thoughts.

To everyone else we would have appeared to have been in love but we both know love is just a past tense and there wasn’t much of love but reminiscence. Lyssa and I touched upon the subject that caused her to sleep over my house in the first place. Noting that Naqi was having cones on their immoral Friday night I wasn’t surprised as to how Naqi was wasting his life away. Later in that same night when I visited Imad I heard a twist To Lyssa’s tale.

I’m not sure if Lyssa included this portion but I recall that Imad was advised by Naqi on Saturday night of how he went out with Lyssa alone for the first time and how they were getting along famously. In this conversation Naqi muttered something about smoking cones as well as taking speed, something that was new to me. What a waste of a wasted life and to waste it more, he will so do as pleased.

Lunch Plans Go Nowhere

Making our way to Central Station at 8:45 a.m. I was relived to know that I wouldn’t be horribly late, just a little delayed. Prior to Lyssa jumping off the train I tried arranging for the both of us to have lunch together. Figuring that it would make Lyssa feel better and keep her distanced from Penelope for at least one day, it would have been best for her and our first or second lunch together since I’ve been working.

However, Lyssa placed a bitter taste in my mouth if only to make partially distasteful the night and morning we held together. Trying to arrange a plan with Lyssa is like feeding shredded paper into a paper shredder, almost useless and obliviously sought. It was a catch 22 situation where I didn’t want to continually ask Lyssa about lunch and yet, she couldn’t give me a definite answer when I tried to put a plan together.

When it came to the stage when I asked Lyssa to meet me halfway it suddenly became too hard for her to accomplish. Therefore, she blurted out “We’ll see what happens” as we resulted to my just calling her before lunch to make what plans we couldn’t make in what more planning time we had. This is the whole reason that I thought not to call Lyssa for lunch.

Having ample time to plan it on the train but not being able to come to a conclusion didn’t give me any confidence that Lyssa would make less of a fool of me when speaking on the phone. I have memories when Lyssa rejected me in the early days of my starting work when we were to have lunch, the reason, money. Fearing rejection at work and the anxiety of Najla or someone else picking up on it I decided to steer clear of the phone.

Besides, if Lyssa really wanted to make some sort of effort, she would have asked for my work phone number or something of that caliber but no to no such avail was I sought.

Too Tired to Care

One minute we now hold stance from midnight and I am with these seconds dying ever so justly for sleep. How the plague of each day’s depiction stems into the depths of chronology evermore, as if time itself was against my bid to catch it up. How fate does laugh at me to yield such trajectories of aimless proportion, filling up my memoirs with much needed adage. I do yearn for these extra embellishments but at most, in these hours, they do come at a price. This weekend I hope that these pages shan’t withhold me from such outings of preference.

Let me catch up to chronology with the wish of these fingers typing more profusely than ever before. Let swiftness bide by these thoughts that do touch the very mettle of each syllable, each sentence and all structure that these fingers as robots unleash. I shall now sleep, tender on my pillow, content with such an improvident wardrobe, such valorous depictions and with many untold nights in the making. Anxiety, pressure, I hear no such words within or without sleep, but calm, almost by a fortuitous nature do I sit here, without stress, without much of a care in the world…