I could hear it once and again and again. Every single time I closed my eyes, I remembered that noise and it made me sick. For some reason, I couldn’t stand it but the roots of the problem were probably much deeper. No one just has an irrational disgust for something, it always come from somewhere.
To be precise, it was the sound of latex pulling out of their bodies. That was the sound that made me sick, repeating itself once and again and again on my brain. Every single guy I ended up with had that faculty of making a strange noise when they removed a condom after we had finished and it was the only thing I remembered clearly.
Yes, you could say I was a bit promiscuous but I always took care of myself. That was the only thing that was constant in those dates, in those outings if you will. The rest was always slightly different but always ended with that horrible sound and it stuck in my head.
One time, the sound was so very ingrained in my ears that I couldn’t really hear anything else. So after getting out of that house, or being kicked out probably, I put on my headphones and tried some loud music to make me forget about the sound. But it kept coming back every time and it made my stomach turn.
The last time, I actually had to vomit by a tree in the middle of the night. I guess I couldn’t take it anymore and my body had to translate what it felt in whatever way possible. After doing that, I felt weak and disgusted and sad. I started crying right there and was thankful no one was walking down that street at that time of night.
I decided to walk home, which was not the best idea but I knew no taxi driver would pull out for me in the state I was in. I was disgusting and tried to fix it by taking off my now dirty t-shirt and folding it to keep inside one of the big pockets in my coat, which I closed tightly due to the cold weather at night.
I walked a few blocks and then realized I had no idea where I was going. My brain was confused; I was lost and had no idea why. I couldn’t form a rational thought in my head and I slapped myself hard in the face to wake up and do something that made sense but it didn’t work at all. I don’t remember having had anything to drink that day and I don’t do drugs. I’m not that fucked up yet. But I didn’t feel normal and started worrying that maybe the guy I had been with had done something to me. I tried to remember and the only thing that came to my mind was the horrible sound of latex.
I covered my ears and started crying again and tried to keep on walking but I couldn’t. It was too difficult, too complicated for me to keep on moving with all the images that were coming to my mind. It was like seeing many photo albums at the same time, and these were all about my sexual encounters with random men. I knew what I did and how I did it but apparently my brain and my body were trying to tell me that they couldn’t do it anymore.
Suddenly, I collapsed. I fell to the ground on my knees, getting hurt really badly. The world started to turn and the only thing I could hear was latex…
When I woke up, I was still very dizzy. I was lying in some sort of bench but I wasn’t in a park or anything like that. I instantly smelled food and my stomach growled, complained it had nothing inside. The light was very bright and when I tried to get up, a man got closer and told me I could rest there all I wanted.
He was really nice, he looked nice at least. His smile was soothing and I just did what he said. I put my back against the wall and keep my legs up on the bench like chairs and realized I was in a small restaurant, the kind of place you an find really late at night, for those who want something to eat after partying or having a load of beer or any other alcohol. After all, they say fat brings the drunkenness down.
I stay there, unable to close my eyes again. My head still felt like a toy used by a baby but I could at least focus on what my eyes were seeing because it made me feel a bit more relaxed. The guy that had come up to me appeared to be the only employee working the night shift. He brought food to the two busy tables and started mopping the floors when he had a moment. It was then he looked at me and I couldn’t help it. I had to smile.
He smiled back and then my smile disappeared. He was very beautiful, an angel, and I couldn’t just smile in the state I was in. I was a disgrace; a fallen being that didn’t deserve any kind of kindness. I had always thought I was a little bit below everyone else, so maybe that’s why I preferred to be submitted to others and that’s why it was who always heard the sound of latex, every single time.
The smell of food made my belly growl again and I decided it was time to leave. When I put my feet on the ground, the man got closer and told me I should wait, as he was going to end his shift as soon as the sun rose in a few minutes. Then, he could take me home in his motorcycle. He said he would feel much better if he did that because he didn’t want me to be in danger.
In my head, I wondered why the hell he cared about me and if I got killed or if I vomited again in another tree. Maybe he had seen so many fucked up guys in the world that he just had to help them. Or maybe he knew of someone who could have used that help and now was dead because no one had given him a hand when he was drunk and wasted.
I just sat down and waited and the thought that maybe he wanted me for something more passed my mind. And I decided I would fall on purpose of the motorcycle before I accepted to that. I couldn’t be this person anymore and that included hooking up with any person I saw on the street, no matter how kind and nice they were to me. So if he wanted more, he wouldn’t get it. My business was close.
I laughed when I thought of that, because of the phrasing, and some of the people paying their food looked at me with disgust. They probably smelled my t-shirt or simply saw who I was and knew I was just the scum of the Earth sitting there, too close to them, and that made them cringe. I thought that they had probably done awful things too, but they had that thing that most people have when you lie to yourself about what you do. I had lost that, that very night.
I had no shame anymore, no standards or limits. I was well past any of that. And I couldn’t lie to myself about it. I was who I was and that was a fact and the truth and nothing I could tell myself could change that. It was a bit sad but at least it was honest and I hadn’t been honest in a while, so it felt really good.
The guy came out of the kitchen wearing a black leather jacket and his helmet. I walked closely behind him towards the motorcycle. He met the guy that would take the next turn. That one didn’t look at me, which was something really weird as I was only a few centimeters away. He took me out of my thoughts asking me my address and I said it, robotically.
We got on the motorcycle and left that place. He accelerated and I pressed my hands around his waist, about to fall asleep once again. We got to my place in no time and was surprised because he didn’t said anything about coming up and it was indeed my house because the doorman recognized me.
I stood there by the motorcycle and he just took a good look at me and asked: “What happened to you?” I opened my mouth and then closed it again because I wasn’t sure I understood the question. I didn’t know what he meant. He didn’t wait for the answer anyway. He winked at me, told me we would meet again and then drove away fast.
That morning, before I fell asleep again, the sound of latex came back to my mind. But it was now mixed with the sound of the motorcycle, the image of a wink and the thought that, maybe, life hadn’t been able to destroy every single part of me. Maybe, I wasn’t done.