Unexpected

 He was very nervous. Samuel gave him a cigarette and told him to go smoke it outside, by the bushes that covered a large part of the house. As they filmed inside with another guy, he was smoking, his hands shaking and even his lips turning a very bright pink. He had been chosen just of the street, after one of the producers had just loved the way he looked. He wasn’t a very hipster boy or anything like that, he was just naturally beautiful and that was something they really needed in their movies.

 There was a market for those who liked guys like him, the kind that looks very young but that’s old enough to sign a contract and win a decent amount of money for working in the adult industry. Of course, there was always the problem of him never having done anything like that. The producer had told him it was something very safe and very private or at least as private as it could be when the video could be seen by, at least, a million people online. The point was that it was a very lucrative business.

 And the guy needed it. His name was Phillip and he had no money to go to college. He lived with his single mom and a little sister. She was being sent to public school, so her mom had no money worries there. But she just couldn’t do anything for her son. Her advice for him was to just get a job and start making money, in order to avoid giving his future family a life like that one. He was saddened by those words but, at the same time, it was funny that his mom had no idea he had no interest in women or families.

 He accepted the offer by calling the producer the night he talked with his mother. They agreed to do a screen test, with a video camera and taking some pictures. For him, that was no problem. He just did what they asked from him and, not surprisingly, he was all that they could wish for in a guy and maybe even more. He looked exactly like what their audience was asking for. He was very flattered when they told him this, not really understanding the whole dimension of the matter. The important thing was he was going to get paid.

 However, the morning of the first shooting he realized that, although he had sexual experience, he had never done it in front of so many people. There was a camera guy and his assistant, a makeup person, the sound guys, the director, a producer and, of course, the other guy that would be having sex with him. It was al a bit overwhelming when he first saw it all and that’s when Samuel the sound guy gave him a cigarette and told him to go outside and chill for a bit. It was a good advice. Phillip tried to calm down but he wasn’t fully calmed when he was called inside, in order to begin.

 To his surprise, he had neglected to realize he was going to have sex with only one person. So when they started touching and kissing, the others just seemed to disappear. Of course, every now and then, they would say some direction or tell them to move in a certain way. It would break the moment for a bit, but he would go on doing what they were paying him to do. When it was all done, everyone congratulated the pair. The director looked very happy and the producer told Phillip he could be the next big star.

 He got paid right then and there and took the bus straight home to go and stash the bills inside a can he had in his room. He would have loved to tell his mother he was going to make good money, but he realized he had to lie first. He just couldn’t tell her what he was actually doing. Not because it was bad or wrong, his mother was not that kind of person. He just didn’t have any intention to tell her that he was gay. It didn’t seem like the right time to do it. So he had to come up with something else to cover for it.

 Phillip announced her, the next day that he was going to work in a comic book store. He said it was one of those big stores in the fancy side of town, where many men would pay hundreds of dollars for a vintage version of their favorite comic book. She was very surprised but pleased and, as expected, she didn’t ask anything else. Not how he had gotten the job or when or how much did it pay. She was just happy to know her son could take care of himself. Besides, he knew that once he made more money, he would try to help her a bit with it, by buying groceries or paying some of the home bills.

 Time passed and the producers came through with their promises. Some weeks, Phillip had to go and perform for at least four movies. Some were done for the same production company and others would be done by foreign people that would pay to have Phillip in one of their pictures. At the beginning, he was only portrayed as a young innocent boy. But he eventually got into more specific genres within the industry. Of course, nothing too violent or dangerous. He was a pretty boy but not a stupid one.

 More than once, some man somewhere would try to touch him without permission or do crude jokes about him in front of him. At first he tried to just shrug it off, but once he realized he had some weight in the conversations, he started to talk back to people and to let them know exactly what the rules were. One thing was the performances he gave and another, very different, was his intent to be with someone, if there was any intent at all. This made him lose a few jobs but it made others fall in love with him and inviting him to do more work and even a few side things.

 He would do silly videos with some of his costars, in order to raise money for different things, or he would model clothes and accessories for many brands catering to the gay community. The moment he felt he had made it, in some way, was when they asked him to go to the other side of the country to promote some of his movies and also some of the clothes that he had been modeling for. He would make a ton of money doing that and he would also gain much needed exposure that was never a bad thing for anyone.

 His mother thought he was going on a trip to buy rare vintage comic books for the store. It was around then when he felt she knew something, maybe not the whole picture but maybe parts of it. She looked at him differently and would seem to be careful with her words when she spoke to him. He would have liked to ask her what was going on but it would be pushing a little bit too much and it wasn’t worth it, not in that moment that seem to be going so good for her. That part of his personal life could wait.

 However, life never really agrees with anyone. She just takes her own course. On his trip, he met a photographer for a new brand that wanted him as a model. He posed for him and talked a lot during the photo-shoot and at an event where they ran into each other. He realized he really liked that guy, and the guy seemed to really care about him, beyond the pornography and the pictures. Luckily, he too lived on the other side of the country, so they even went back together, talking and talking during the five-hour flight.

 It was about three months into them dating, when Phillips mother told him he was proud of him, no matter what he did. He was confused by that and had no idea what to say. She then grabbed her tablet and showed him an advertisement she had seen online for men’s underwear. It was him. She told him she investigated a little bit more and realized what other business he was working in. Before he could say a word, she assured him it was all fine, because he wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was just different.

 Weeks later, Phillip introduced her to Jonathan, the photographer he had been dating for a while. He really hit it off with her and with his little sister. They would even go to the movies or the park, enjoying the weekends together as a big family. It was a very strange feeling but a good one.

 Phillip kept doing his jobs. Eventually, he moved on more into the modeling aspect of the whole thing, but still loving to work for some brands that let him get in touch with that side of him that gave him a chance in life. It was strange, but he owed it all to pornography. Who would have thought?

After all, we are in love

   The first thing I did, was giving him the biggest hug I could. It was amazing how I could feel his sweater against my face, how I could feel his warmth through the fabric and hear his heart beating beneath it. It was so real I cried, both in the dream and outside of it. I don’t remember how long we stood there, but I do remember I started seeing him in other places in my dreams, just running into him casually while he was saying something nice about me or about what he felt for me. I was over the moon.

 Actually, the full moon loomed above us for most of the dream; it was quite a beautiful sight. It was also nice to be able to touch his hand and hold it out in the open, in front of all the people in campus. Or at least I think it was a campus, it didn’t look anything like the college I had been to years before. It was bigger and with more faces and nice walkways lined with trees. And we would hold hands and just talk about movies and laugh about silly gossips that we had heard about people we knew.

 I have to say that, even then, I knew he wasn’t real. I knew that I was dreaming but it all felt so real that I didn’t mind. I knew what my real life was like and I wanted to have something different for a change and it didn’t mattered if it could only be in a dream. That’s why I tried to remember every single thing, repeating in my head as I went through it, because I wanted to remember every single part of that beautiful dream. I want to memorize his face, because somehow he was more than real to me.

 We even made love and he whispered in my ear how much he wanted to make me feel pleasure. I know, maybe that’s too graphic for some or to little information for others, but I have to say that also felt amazing. I could almost say that I was moaning loudly in my room, in bed, while we were having sex in the dream. We kissed a lot and he really seemed to care for me while we were together. I think that’s what everyone one’s in a partner, someone that really cares for you and who’s not there just to be there.

 Afterwards, we lay there talking a bit. We were tired and sweaty, but we couldn’t prevent our faces from grinning and smiling. We were too happy not to express it with our souls. I remember touching his face, feeling his stubble. He kissed my hand and then hugged me and I felt I could drown in his smell. I still have in my head, and I hope it never goes away. He kissed me like no one has kissed me before and, I have to admit, that maybe no one will ever kiss like that. After all, I lived that vivid dream in a moment but that’s all it was, it was just a dream, as unique as it was.

 When I woke up, I felt really good. I was smiling and I didn’t feel tired or worn down. It was quite the opposite and it has to be said that’s not very common. I usually feel I have just arrived from running a marathon. But not that time. I knew the alarm would go off in any minute, but that wasn’t important. My brain and even my body were still with him, feeling his body against mine and every single feeling he felt towards me rushing between both our beings. No idea if that makes sense at all.

 As I was in the shower and putting on my clothes, I thought of everything I had dreamt of. Some of it was already gone, something that was bound to happen. But most of it was there, for me to think about it over and over again. As I prepared to leave home for work, I realized how silly I would sound to anyone if I told them I had fallen in love with an imaginary person, with someone that only existed in my dreams. They would think that I was going insane or something worse.

 Then again, maybe I am. Maybe it is insane to think that a person that you own mind created is simply not healthy. Even I can say that it sounds crazy but I cannot stop thinking about him and about how he made me feel. In the bus, standing up facing the window and looking at cars and buildings pass, I realize that I don’t really care about what people think or not. He made me happy and it doesn’t matter where it happened or if he was just my mind creating him to make me feel less lonely.

 I couldn’t afford not to care, not to recognize he had been there. After all, I actually thought, for a moment, that maybe my head had not created everything about him. Maybe humans are connected in ways we do not yet understand and we were connected during that time. Maybe he exists, somewhere, and maybe he’s also asking the universe what this all means. I know how all of this sounds but sometimes you just have to believe in something to keep going, in order not to crumble and just give up.

 And I have to believe the love of my life is out there somewhere and that he’s thinking of me too. I would love to know if the face I saw in my dream is the same as the one in reality, but he will surely be thinking the same thing. I’ve found myself hoping he’s not very disappointed, because I’m not exactly a top model or anything like that. But maybe worrying about such a thing is just stupid, because he probably worries too about what he looks like. If he just knew I would love give him a hug and just feel him close to me, maybe that would make his worries disappear.

 Meanwhile, real life is going on as usual. I go to work and I go back home, I sometimes cook and write and do things to pass the time. But every now and then I find myself thinking about him. However, after a while, I just think about how lonely I feel and how nice it would be to have someone close to tell him all my worries and my problems and to laugh and be idiots at the same time. I sometimes think about that and it makes me sad because and over thirty and that hasn’t happened yet.

 I’m the first one to say age doesn’t mean shit but the older you are whenever you finally get to meet that wonderful person, the less time you will have with them. And that scares me a lot, because I want more than a few good years with someone. Shit! After so many years of avoiding any kind of emotional attachment to others, I find myself in a position in which I would be ecstatic if I could feel something for someone else. It would be hard and strange and new, but it could be worth the shot.

 But life doesn’t work by wishing, or I would have met him several years ago, when I was more of an innocent kid that ever before or after. I was someone else and that guy really believed in possibilities. Me, not so much. I know that the dream is just a dream and that, even if there’s a possibility he could be real, that doesn’t mean everything would just work according to my imagination or some kind of plan. You don’t plan life because she will never let you. She’s tougher than that, always.

 Anyways, I want to keep dreaming about him. He made me happy, he made me smile. No one achieved that in a while and I want that here, with me. I know how it sounds and how it looks, but I’m the kind of tired that has to use his imagination to go forward. Reality is not the kindest to me, although it could always be worse. That’s why I dream of him, because even if things really go south, I would have someone nearby to really live with, in every single of the word. And that word means hell of a lot.

 My only hope now is that, somehow, I can see him again in my dreams. I feel like I’ve done that before so, maybe, it could happen again. Maybe this time we could go out dancing or singing before going to his place and have sex. Because that’s something I’m not willing to give up.

 I go to bed tonight thinking… No, I go to bed wishing I will see him again. And then I shed a tear and realize how silly, childish and stupid this is. But I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Real or not, I really need him right now and I just know he will come. After all, we are in love.

Ode to Pamela

   Plants are not fun, or that’s what most people think about them. They just think flowers are nice because of the colors but that’s it, they don’t see anything beyond it. Patricia did. She had always seen something in the botanical world that had attracted her. Maybe it was because those creatures didn’t have a voice, they weren’t able to scream and say what they felt or what they wanted. Mysteries wrapped them and made them something that was so near but also very far.

 So Patricia studied botany for years and she travelled the world getting masters degrees and doctorates, studying with the greatest scientific minds in order to learn more and more about her favorite living things. And then, it dawned on her, that she couldn’t just investigate and look at the plants from afar. She really needed to spend time in the field, discovering new types of plants and designing ways to better protect the one that people knew about. She thought about this day and night, for a long time.

 That was, until she met the person that could help her achieve what she wanted. Her name was Hayley and she also had a special love for plants. They met in a conference about roses and other flowers and were surprised how much the other one knew about those creatures. They even had fun quizzing each other about their favorite species and telling very interesting tales about the discovery of some plant or flower. They enjoyed the conference more than anyone else that year.

 They promised to be in touch and it was very soon after that when Hayley invited Patricia to a trip to the Philippines. Apparently, a team of many scientists would visit one of the country’s most remote islands, one were many people said an incredible number of new species of animals and plants could live. The island was relatively small and was protected by the government because it was one of the many islands forming a very large protected area. But this was the first time they would allow people to go in.

 Patricia had her doubts. If she had to be honest with herself, she wasn’t the kind of person to love dirt and hot temperatures. She didn’t even like taking transportation in order to go anywhere. She got annoyed in taxis, as well as in planes or boats. It wasn’t only that she got dizzy; it was also that she disliked having to interact with people that she didn’t particularly care about. Hayley had been a real exception and she finally decided to go only because she thought having Hayley around would be a good thing if she felt she couldn’t stand anything anymore.

 Before departing for the Philippines, both women met and had a blast together. Not only they enjoyed discussing plants again, they also went shopping for appropriate clothes for the trip and even had time to eat, drink and watch a movie together. They really got along very well. The only difference between them was that Hayley loved people and was, apparently, a big partier. She would sometimes talk about it but, as she soon learned, Patricia was not of her same perception so she limited those subjects.

 The day before departing Hayley promised Patricia that she would take care of her and that if she had any problems with any other person, she could come to her and tell her all about it. Patricia was so thankful for that kind attitude that she decided to buy a nice little present for her trip companion at the airport. She gave it to Hayley on the plane, hours after take off. It was a nice little pendant with a rose pendant. Hayley was so surprised; she just gave Patricia a big hug, which surprised her. But she didn’t push back.

 In Manila, they met the rest of the team, mostly composed by men. Some were going to the island to look for minerals and others were biologists hoping to find the creature that would put them in history books. Also a couple of geologists joined them, intrigued by the many tectonic faults plaguing the island. Patricia got nervous when she heard about that, but tried to remain strong because everyone else seemed so put together and committed, and she didn’t wanted to be the only one freaking out.

 On the next plane, Hayley sat far from her, as the seats had been assigned prior to them getting to the airport. So she had to sit with a big guy that sweated a lot and loved to talk about rocks and not much more. They only chit chatted for a bit before the man turned to the other side and decided the person on that side was much more interesting and willing to connect than Patricia. She felt really bad but thought the best thing to do was to try and sleep a bit before having to board the boat, the final leg of the route to the island.

 When they got off the plane, the heat was incredible. Patricia tried to refresh herself with some wet towels but that wasn’t enough. Actually, it made no sense to spend any time trying to get rid of the sweat because each step anyone took on that tarmac meant at least a hundred drops of sweat would roll down their foreheads. So they just followed their guide to the terminal, then to a van than took them to a pier and finally into a boat that was much too tiny to carry so many people. Patricia was really having second thought about coming on that trip but she couldn’t say it out loud.

 As the sun would set soon, their guide told them they would not be going to the actual island that day but to the one just in front of it, were their cabins had been built by the government. Of course, when they got there, the rooms had no air conditioning and the beds were into precisely meant for hotels and resorts. The bathrooms were also awful and they didn’t have much to cook, as provisions had not arrived from Manila.

 So dinner that night was made of cold sandwiches with water. Everyone was so happy that night, around a big table, eating and joking and telling stories. Hayley sat by Patricia all the time but she seemed so much more into the whole interacting thing. Patricia would just sit there and stare at people as they said whatever it was that they said and then she would attempt to laugh or at least smile, but most of the times it just seemed as if had some kind of stomach pain. So she soon left for her room.

 Sleeping was impossible. Partly because of the noise the rest of the people were making but also because of the heat. She had attempted to cover herself with a very thin sheet but even that made her feel she was going to get stuck to it. So she decided not covering herself and sleeping only in her underwear. It was the most comfortable, even if she wasn’t very keen to sleep like that with so many bugs floating around. A couple of hours later, she was finally able to fall asleep.

 She knew she wasn't sleeping to well because she had one of those vivid dreams, when you’re very aware of everything that’s happening. She moved around a lot in the dream and also imagined she was in the middle of a jungle. Weirdly enough, the jungle was less humid and hot, so she felt cozy and a bit less uncomfortable. She felt watched by something, or maybe someone, but no one was around here and that’s when she woke up and realized she was not inside her cabin anymore. She was outside.

 As in her dream, Patricia was deep in the jungle, where it was colder and nicer in general. But she was scared. Why was she there? Had she walked in her sleep, away from the compound? She stood up and started running, hoping to be just a few meters away from everyone else.

 But she ran to the beach and realized, horrified, that she could see the lights of the compound across the water, on an island across it. Somehow, Patricia had ended up in the place where they were supposed to discover new species. But maybe the biggest discovery would be something much less easy to explain or understand.

Our young past

   Like a waterfall, all the books on the shelf in the closet came running down towards. One of them hit me on the foot, but it was a small one, so the pain was not that bad. However, the incident reminded that stuff had been stored around the house for years and years. There were so many shelves and drawers and hidden little closets and tiny spaces to keep things, and we had all used them ever since I had lived there as a young boy. I even remember my mother telling me where and how to store everything.

The book that had hit my foot was one that I had read a lot when I was young: 1984 by George Orwell. I remember being fascinated by the world building this master of writing had achieved. I really felt there, with all the characters, enduring their hardships and helping them survive somehow. Of course, the book was maybe too dark for me as a young man, but it was one of those building blocks of my personality. I think everyone should be obliged to read such a masterpiece.

 I decided to grab all the books and put those I wanted to keep in a box. Of course, 1984 would go there but there were many others that I hadn’t seen for decades and now I had to decide whether to throw them away or not. The first thing I decided on was to put all my former schoolbooks and notebooks on trash bags. I had no use for that. School had been kind of a nightmare at the end, so it made no sense keeping something that reminded me of any bad moments in my life.

 Some people keep those kinds of books as souvenirs, even to help their children in the future with their homework, but I’m more of a realist. I will never have any children and even if I did, I wouldn’t put them through the trauma and boredom of watching how lousy I was at school when I was young. I’d rather help them with current knowledge and not by reminiscing about things that no one longer cares about. So I put the about ten books and seven notebooks in trash bags.

 I did the same thing with notebooks from college. I had already studied enough and keeping them would only occupy space for other books that I would like to keep. For example, I had a small but very well preserved collection of graphic novels that I had binged through during my college years. They had been great entertainment when I wanted to relax for a while and not be so dependent on internet or anything associated with it. They were a great source of a imagination and certainly helped me build my own creativity during those years. I loved them too much to part with them.

 The remaining books where old and had belonged to my parents. So it wasn’t my choice to put them away or throw them away. I had to ask before doing anything. So I put all of those in a different box and clean the whole space with care. I put on a mask on my mouth, as the amount of dust was just incredible. It took me a long while to properly clean the closet, every single corner and space, before leaving for my former bedroom and start doing the same thing there. It seemed like a job that wouldn’t end.

 But, in time, it did. Every single thing that I wanted to keep was in boxes that would be sent to my place. Some other things would be sent to mu parents home, where they could decided if they wanted to keep all that or if they want to throw something. Knowing them, a visit to their place would be necessary because parents are all the same, they have difficulty trying to part with anything that reminds them of something you did when you were young or that reminds them of a tiny thing they did year ago.

 It’s their choice anyway. I carried all the trash bags to the containers and said my final goodbyes. After all, many of those books and toys and so many other things had been there through my younger years. Years that had been difficult at some points and joyful at others. It is weird, but as humans we do tend to give this human quality to everything that is not alive. We care for our things as if they knew we cared for them and it goes beyond of trying to preserve them as long as possible. It’s a weird kind of love.

 Driving back home, with two boxes filled with my past, my eyes started to fill up and I had to take advantage of a red light in order to clean my eyes with a tissue and just try to compose myself. Cleaning the house in which I had lived for so long had been a very unexpected experience. It’s one of those things you don’t really think much about but, once you’re there doing the job, you realized that it’s not as simple as it looks. It’s difficult to stare at your past and just see it all in front of you, kind of like a movie.

 I was grateful to get home and put the boxes on the elevator. A young woman I had never seen on the building helped me hold the button for me, as I pushed the boxes into the steel container. She got down first. She seemed very nice and that made me realize I really had no idea who my neighbors were, except for the lady that lived next door who loved to sing opera at the top of her lungs every single afternoon. I guess she thought it would be less annoying at that time of day. Maybe she had been a famous opera singer or had failed to reach her life dream. Who knows?

 I pushed the boxes all the way from the elevator to my doorstep. I was about to pull the keys out of my coat, when the door flung open and he stood there, smiling. Apparently, he had heard me coming from the elevator and had waited patiently to open the door. He grabbed one box and I took the other. We put them by the sofa and hen just fell on the furniture. I was exhausted and he seemed to be tired too. He had gone out with friends to hike some mountain or something like that. A sportsman, he was.

 We lay there for a while, slowly embracing each other, in silence. Then, the afternoon came and we realized we had fallen asleep for a short while. I woke up because my stomach was hurting. I had been working on the house all day and had not eaten a single thing. He proposed we should order takeout but I reminded him we had no money to spare for that. So I decided to stand up and cook something fast. Pasta came to mind, so I just started cooking right away, not even listening to what he was saying.

 He apparently grew tired of not getting real answers, because he then turned to the boxes and opened them. He grabbed some things, looked at my toys and browsed some of the old magazines I had wanted to save from the dumpster. He laughed when he saw my old video games, as he had never known I had played videogames when younger. It’s weird but we had never really talked about our childhood personas. Our younger self sometimes feels like a whole different person, away from us.

 I saw 1984 in his hands, just as I chopped some tomatoes for the sauce. I waited to hear if he had something to say about it, if he had any input about me owning such a book. He didn’t say a word for a while. He appeared to be checking the state of the book and some of the pages. But he wasn’t saying anything. For a moment, I asked myself what kind of couple lives together for almost a year and they don’t even share their tastes to one another. It made me feel like a failure, so much so that I almost cut off a finger.

 Then, he started reciting. He just opened the book on a random page, the one where Winston talks about Julia, and how he sees her and how he feels. The way he read it was just delightful and, as the water boiled and I put the pasta in, I smiled hearing his voice reading my favorite book ever.

 He only stopped when started serving. The food looked amazing and I think his reading inspired me. He left the book on the coffee table and, before sitting down to eat, he kissed me softly and I gently grabbed him by the waist. It felt different somehow. But different good. We smiled and ate, while talking.