We did not speak as I moved to wash the
towel we'd laid beneath us, and then the sheets. Rinsing away the
blood of my body. He'd already washed the
blood off of himself, back
in the shower, alone. The look that he gave me when he saw the
stains on the sheets made me
tiny. And I walked off to wash them, strangely
ashamed.
Intimacy only lasts so long, and
climax is the death of desire. Climax was the end of his wish to deal with the difficulties that are the workings behind a
girl, though they'd fascinated him so before. He turned away.
We did not speak.
"We must
trust each other an awful lot" he pondered, clothed by the time I returned.
Then why am I so worried about you going back to see her
tonight?
"Yes," I answered. Yes we must.
He left before day break. He was on the
plane by dawn. I slept on an
uncovered mattress, clothed in
bloody panties and an
empty feeling that I'd made a terrible terrible
mistake.