I will never regret the invitation of the women in my life to my cigar room. We have shared the wine and shared the gossip of all our days. Recently I was to open the door to a past cigar party. Imagine a smoke filled room, with heavy mood lighting (very pretentious). Filling the room the sound of rifts of jazz, screams of alternative and punk, and pleasant conversation. We were all very close. In that time, with how few of us there were, it was hard not to be. We ate together, drank together, smoked together, acted together, and sometimes slept together. It is there I remember the dark greens and maroons that where to creep into my life later. The lighting that made haziness breed clarity. We knew each other and lived a life that any Bohemian would be jealous of. We created art.
We let each other slip away...
We knew that there could be no tomorrow and by living that surrendered everything. What we could not know was that we would surrender each other.
I have no doubt I could call any of them at any time, but I was not prepared for the call I would make.
Helen, Aileen and I where the three closest in Club 708. We had planned our lives together. How we wanted to be. It was all very "Sex in the City," before "Sex in the City." We had imagined Helen with a martini and a fag opening her door at age 60 to the lovely Miami Mansion she would become heiress to. I would live next door in the Spanish style mansion and Aileen would be in a lovely Contemporary Mansion. We were still not to delude ourselves to the knowledge that we were disturbed individuals, however, we knew that we would make it and be successful...
There is a call I have not made, I can not make...
She is not doing well and has talked with Aileen since. She was arrested and caught up with a man who is an addict. She has very little money and has probably lived on the streets. I have not contacted her for fear of what to say.
I believe the smokey room has vaporized and I have been left with the lingering stench of stale smoke...
I now must call her to put her dad's mind at ease. What will the other end hold. I close the door to the cigar room, and wait until I have to open that door again...tomorrow, or the day after that.
1 comment:
you have such a way with words lestat..i have always enjoyed hearing you speak about things, especially those you hold dear to you. yet, it is when you create that i am most captivated. no matter the form, i am mesmerized. your rooms may be the best i've read yet. and how true that quote is from queer as folk is... we all have rooms. fuck the skeletons in the closets! i have a mansion of unopened, unresolved, unclean rooms. many of us do i suppose. keep in touch dear friend... i miss you already.
~dayna~ aka 'Rylee'
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