Lyssa Stays the Night (Part 6)

Lyssa Arrives by Taxi

Dropped back off at my house around 1:00 a.m. with Shawn picking up his possessions, his leftover Chinese Food and his racer which I bid he throw in the back of the Ute, I was allowed to my own devices and as always, being this computer of mine. Through the untainted depiction of chronology I received a call so early in the morning, knowing exactly to whom would pleasure my time. This portion of experimental eulogy has been explained, that being our conversation so without further ado, she asked to come over to my house to which I resolved favorably.

Fifteen minutes after the last words were placed within my memoirs I heard the taxi out the front and received her at the front door. Looking a touch drunk and aged to her done up face, I guided her into my bedroom to which she sat on the bed. Lyssa wanted me to give her a hug and that was half of her supposed reason but I knew it was much more intricate yet simple a deviant plan, her heading to my house.

Unsure when to lay a hug upon her, I just sat next to her, knowing she had something that was upsetting her but waiting upon the right time to break it out of her like she was a piggy bank. For a while the two of us talked upon my bed as she told me fragmentally about her night and I of mine. At one stage we even tried playing the Playstation where we both had a go of ‘Driver’. Having Lyssa just drive around without hassles, in her intoxicated state she did enjoy making pedestrians rush out of her way as she drove recklessly towards them.

What Imad Told Her

Grabbing Lyssa a drink from upstairs we made ourselves comfortable upon my waterbed. Playing no games of intimidation or uncertainty, I knew in my mind exactly why Lyssa had journeyed all the way over my house despite her hating to catch a taxi at such a dreadful time at night. Lying right next to Lyssa in bed and putting my arm around her I began to ask her about her woes for the night.

Lyssa repeatedly said “Don’t worry, forget about it” but being my persistent self, I told Lyssa how I wouldn’t quit until she finally told me the truth and she knew that. Finally, after much anticipation of the obvious I found myself to be somewhat on the right track with my prediction but not precisely correct. Lyssa advised me how she got onto Imad on Friday night when the both of them ended up heading out to Chevy’s.

From Lyssa’s tale, she was intoxicated dearly as was Hakim and this was a major factor to their getting onto each other. However, the reason Lyssa was so upset was due to the remark of sobriety Imad unleashed upon Lyssa at the QSB on Saturday night. Lyssa must have seemed persistent for some more attention on Saturday night and much against her views, I feel that she was trying to begin her clinging upon Imad.

Seeing this at a very early stage, Imad told Lyssa that he didn’t want to be tied down in these, his primal years and although he thought Lyssa was a great woman, he couldn’t get serious with her. “Did that bother you did it” I asked Lyssa inquisitively to which she replied “No, I was going to say the same thing to him and I kept trying but I never got the chance”.

Dropping Hints

Lyssa made it seem that she felt bad for having him think she was clingy when in true nature I feel that she probably was trying to be considering all the worth she speaks of Imad. However, as Lyssa believes in her psychic, there is some truth in her portrayal.

When the woes of Imad had subsided, Lyssa expressed her opinion about not caring about consequence or the repercussions about going out and having fun. In this conversation, Lyssa was dropping huge bombs of hints upon me which was basically saying “Take me now and fuck me”. Lyssa began by pledging that people should just go out and have fun, not worrying about consequence. “Give me an example of no consequence”

I asked her testing to see what figment she would produce. “Take getting onto people for example” she uttered, “You shouldn’t worry about the aftermath, you should just take the opportunity and do it”. Feeling a slight parallel to her tonsils infected with lust she then went on to say, “From now on I’m just not going to care, I’m going to go out there and do it.”

Again, this made me feel like Lyssa was referring to me and our having sex right there. I knew that Lyssa was dropping tremendous hints and when she uttered “What about you, are you just going to do it”, emphasizing the last two words”. Knowing in my mind that her philosophy was right on the dot, I would have loved for this last year to be infested with sexual frolics with Lyssa but the reality of our contradicting desires have my procrastination holding firm.

I knew that Lyssa wanted me to jump on top of her and rip her clothes off as sexual frustration was getting to her. However, I didn’t want to be her sexual release for all the guys that have geed her up and I didn’t want to admit myself into a situation where I would always undoubtedly draw the short end of the stick.

Why I Held Back

Lying right next to Lyssa I kept thinking “Wait a minute, did I miss something here,” as Lyssa said she was going to take action of every situation yet she then turned to me and placing all the emphasis upon myself. As usual, it was up to me to make the move and that’s what kept me firmly in position.

If Lyssa wanted sex then she had to make the first move to acquire satisfaction. However, even then I won’t submit myself to such actions unless I am certain that Lyssa won’t fuck me over (Literally). The day when I believe Lyssa can please my needs appropriately is when I will consider initiating sex with Lyssa again and I seriously doubt that this day will ever arrive. The reason, Lyssa will never change her ways and having taken too much away from sexual satisfaction, there are no inroads to my relief, only out-roads to further grief.

Seconds after Lyssa asked if I was going to take action to her inadvertent desires, there sat a silence to which Lyssa filled it with gestures. Raising her hands up in the air as if to be grabbing for something in a stretch, I figured that Lyssa was trying to say “Come on, just take me for fuck’s sake” but of course, that never happened.

Foolish you might think I am to knock back someone like Lyssa but after such a length of time away from her, I have grown to see her as just a normal sort. Don’t get me wrong, Lyssa looks hot when she goes out to clubs but I feel that her overuse of makeup has created a plastic appearance to her face that just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.

Plastic Faces and Sleepless Hugs

For the whole night my little man was at full shaft but I never used him willingly. In my view, the need for sex wasn’t there, it would only ruin the night with expectations. Lyssa kept saying to me eons ago “Don’t have expectations and you won’t get disappointed” but that was just her way of getting out of those special little treats she used to give me.

Apart from the one and only position Lyssa favors and didn’t whinge about when it came to some aching body-part, she took away any sexual position and my most favored, oral sex. The art of kissing even went out the window and now, if we were to have sex it would be such a disappointing experience far from the exalted benign sentience that our greater days of going out achieved.

Both of us ended up sleeping on my waterbed and after an hour or two restlessly hugging Lyssa, I finally turned around to get some moderately comfortable sleep. Lyssa gets irritated over the smallest things, even in her sleep does she treat me like shit. Trying to give her a hug she would tell me to get away and that’s the reason why I gave up comforting her and got to sleeping myself.

The Earlier Phone Call

Her easy irritation is what makes me take a step back and remember why we’re not going out. As you would know of the conversation today where Lyssa called for Imad’s number, I called her later tonight around 9:00 p.m. after trying to find out the hidden secrets from Imad. However, there was no such luck from Imad as he was stoned at Martin’s house so ringing Lyssa for some answers, she was hard-stuck for questioning. Lyssa became irritated quite easily after a couple of seconds on the phone and as she had Nikita over her house watching a movie, I couldn’t believe that she would raise her voice so easily.

Being peaceful instead of vigilant, I said goodbye and that I would speak with her about the problem tomorrow. For someone who is constantly asking me for favors and never gives them back, she has no manners when it comes to respect. So quickly does Lyssa forget my benevolence and so quickly after that do I ask myself “Why did I even bother in the first place”.

A Bucket in the Morning

Apart from Lyssa waking me up at 6:00 a.m. in the morning to rush into the toilet to grab some sort of bucket for her sickly stomach, my Sunday with Lyssa was an anticlimax. Having nine shots of alcohol for the night, Lyssa chucked up in the toilet to which I accompanied her. Lyssa vowed that she wouldn’t drink again but I never hold her up to her will. However, I found it uniquely surprising that Lyssa didn’t light up one smoke while she was at my house.

Could she have quit, was she being courteous to my wishes or did she just not have any smokes, that’s what I want to know. Even earlier in the morning, Lyssa spewed up again slightly in a bucket to which we kept in my room, it didn’t smell. When 11:00 a.m. arrived I tried waking Lyssa up by talking with her and placing my arms around her half naked body.

Oh yeah, early in our sleeping night of conversation, Lyssa took off her black polo neck sweater without arms to which she only had a bra on underneath, an obvious ploy to seduction. Taking off my own shirt, we lay there embraced for the most night, myself making a comment about Lyssa’s bra being loose so I could find an excuse to poke around that area, much to her delight. Lyssa told me how she was told to be a D cup but how she’s bought a bra that diminishes her breast size so they look smaller.

Lyssa Runs Off Again

Anyway, besides, the quickened point, I headed to have a shower at 11:30 a.m., washing myself down with body wash and as I entered the room again gathering Lyssa would still be asleep, she surprised me by being fully dressed. “I just called Penelope while you were in the bathroom and she’s really upset so I have to go see her now” Lyssa explained.

This scenarios has been played over so many times that it must be a cliché for Lyssa to run and help someone, leaving behind me to scramble for my thoughts and directory. Again, friends are more important to this lover made friend made hopeful lover again. Despite my being Lyssa’s friends, she doesn’t class me as one and sovereign treats all that are beside my title, as if I was the dirt of earth, to be the last noticed and last aided.

What pissed me off was how Lyssa had the nerve to call Penelope from my house, knowing something was going to be wrong. The problem as is was that she was having some argument with Naqi and you already know all the details about drugs and so forth. Having already called a cab, I gave Lyssa a kiss on the cheek as she left gathering that every other girl shows that courtesy to me and as she left, I was allowed my own time.

Driver Eats My Sunday

For the next two or three hours I watched the Gridiron game which bored me and then I started playing the Playstation. You see, having a weapon to enslave the mind and time is anti-beneficial to the flow and desire of chronology. If it wasn’t for the Playstation I probably would have written a couple more pages and thoughts upon these memoirs but having become obsessed with ‘Driver’ despite the memory card not working, I’ve shaved a couple of hours from my Sunday.

There has been nothing exceptional to have happened this Sunday apart from my call to Imad, Lyssa and then a call received by Shawn. We were both supposed to head out to see ‘Two Hands’ tonight as we didn’t go yesterday and heard so much wrap about it. However, as Shawn called me up at 6:30 p.m. tonight I knew that there was a mess of chronology to clean up within these pages and finally, because obligation got the better of me, I had to disappoint him.

Nevertheless, he didn’t seem to be too fazed, probably thinking I would say no anyway as I always have for Trivia night. Therefore, with my huge weekend complete, I now only have Wednesday to finish off, Thursday and the beginning of my week, Friday. Again, I am left to the same demeanor as when I started last week and again, I ask myself “Will I ever escape this vicious circle of chronology?”