Stay, he says, and I want to stay but I lift my head from his chest and all the memories from last night hit me very hard. Whiskey, cigarettes, soup... Soup? Soup. It was delicious.
He saved me from a very boring night at Chukotka (Google it, it’s in Almaty – you can Google Almaty too, it’s ok). Any night without him on stage was a boring night but at least I’d have the expectation, the hope of him showing up, but he never did. And that’s because I never asked... until last night.
And he came, and he smiled, and he waited for me to say bye to my sister and we walked down the street; shortly after, that soup for me and the whiskey for him happened. I will never, ever, ever, ever forget that sunrise. Some moments we just remember better than others, and they are usually simple but not easy to explain emotionally.
Sshh he whispered into my ear and fucked me. I can’t say we fucked each other. He definitely fucked me and I think it was the first time I just allowed someone to fuck me like that. Many people before him fucked me but it always felt like against my will. With him I unleashed that sense of submission, and it came with trust, and all the teasing and edging and the conversations, not rushing into the physicality of things. I didn’t know that my brain was my number one tool of pleasure.
Yeah, last night was awesome.
I sit up and think about my dad, he’s probably worried now. It feels a little bit like I shouldn’t really give a fuck because I lived my whole life without his supervision, so why would he be worried now? But then I want this sense of normality, of familiarity and care, I want my dad to worry so that I can reassure him, even if this is only happening for the time being until I go back to my life in Europe.
So D calls me a taxi and walks me out in the cold morning, he’s sleepy, barely dressed, he has some sense of vulnerability I’ve never seen before, not like I know him but he always looks like he has his shit together more than anyone else. Does he ever feel lonely? He probably does. And that’s the thing I know about myself, I would never use someone’s vulnerability to harm them, not even if it would be to protect my life. I am loyal to the bone, whether we’ve known each other for a month or for ten years... You can count on me. You fuck me over, you’re left with less than what you had before; you respect me, I protect you.
I sit in the taxi and I don’t want to leave, I want to just lean on his chest again and carry on sleeping like the future has never happened. He waves and smiles, I smile and relax, the car is now driving through an empty city. This is my city, we’re reunited like never before, it feels to me like coming back to a broken relationship, trying to pick up the pieces, to forgive and forget the abuse and the pain. What a beautiful dark city, and a twenty four year old Nina rewriting the memories.
I get home around nine in the morning and the whole family is awake; my dad is smiling at me and no one is asking questions. I assume my sister told him I left with D last night. I brought them back some pastries D bought, so we drink coffee and have breakfast together. My dad is a very intuitive person, I don’t know him that well to be honest but I feel him and I think that we’ve never lost that connection... if we focus hard, even with four thousand miles separating us, we feel it, we feel the blood. Despite our differences and family drama and trauma, there is this pure thing that nothing can contaminate.
He knows I’ll do what I want, and that I did more than what I wanted, and by him knowing that it’s like talking to a best friend without saying a word. It’s like talking to god. My dad also makes the best coffee in the world, because he puts so much love into every little thing that he puts his beautiful hands on. That’s about it, I don’t know much else but it’s enough. The soup was still better because there was an expectation of sex.
My brain goes all the weird places, you have to be ok with it.
I go upstairs into my dad’s music studio, cover the window with a blanket because there are no curtains and lay down. It’s the best feeling in the world when you have the taste of coffee in your mouth and you smell like sex and you are so sleepy but don’t want to give in yet. I text D, I don’t remember what I tell him, I don’t remember what he replies. I fall asleep and don’t wake up until five in the afternoon. And that’s where it stops.
And life resumes. Welcome back. Rewind. Play.
