Entry #18: It’s a Black Tie Thing (part2)

The band arrived in San Francisco, retrieved our luggage and instruments and sure enough, Steve had a bus waiting to take us to the hotel. Steve was in the ballroom attending to details and welcomed us and had one of his assistants shuffle us through check in and gave us a time for sound check. Everything seemed to be as discussed and he said our clothes were already in our rooms. He pulled me aside and invited Annie and I to lunch with Jean and himself. He said Annie was already out with Jean and they would meet us at lunchtime.

I needed some time to clean up so I headed up to our room and sure enough, Annie’s stuff was already in the room and hanging up were two garment bags. One had a nice black suit for me and one was obviously for Annie. I took a quick peek inside and was a little worried about her dress. It was a sparkly purple in color, a color she never wore and while I didn’t pull it out of the bag it seemed to be hanging a little weird. There were also matching heels that seemed awful high.

We all met up a bit later and when Annie gave me a hug and kiss she whispered something French in my ear and Steve heard her. When getting ready to sit, Steve pushed himself between Annie and Jean. I immediately became uneasy as I am always so protective of her.

From out of nowhere, Steve and Jean began a conversation with Annie in french. It became a threeway conversation with a lot of laughing, and some blushing from Annie as they looked over at me and would say something else they thought funny. Since I don’t speak french, and understand so little, I seemed to be the butt of their jokes and comments.

Annie was going out again with Jean and said she would meet me in the ballroom shortly before the show and to just go ahead and get dressed when I needed to. As Steve and I left he told me how much he liked Annie and thought she was a perfect match for me. She had reluctantly told him about our plans to get married in a few months and Steve said once we were all settled he wanted us to visit their place in England.

The sound check went fine and all seemed to be in order, so the guys all went to our rooms to get ready and agreed to meet for drinks like we always do before a show. Steve and I were the first two down and we were hanging out in front of the stage with drinks when Annie and Jean walked in. I was facing away and didn’t know they were there until I heard Steve say “Holy Shit.” I quickly turned around and couldn’t believe what I saw.

Annie was walking across the room towards us. She looked like a vision. The gown left little to the imagination. In those heels she towered over Jean and it looked like she was poured into the dress, what little there was of it. From the hips down it went to the floor, but there was little there from the hips up. The dress had a plunging neckline down to her stomach and when the light hit it just right it seemed to be see through. The color on Annie was amazing. I was speechless and finding it hard to even breathe. My mind was spinning over what I was seeing and Steve kept saying holy shit!

The look on my face seemed to be a problem when she got to me as her eyes became huge (like they always did when she was fearful) and she put her arms around me and asked didn’t I approve of the dress? All I could manage was to tell her she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known and my heart can’t stand it anymore. When I put my arms around her I was shocked again to feel her back. There was no dress there at all. It was open all the way down to her butt. The color, the fit, the pure sexual tension that emanated from her astounded me.

During our first break Annie and I danced and I was in real trouble. When I held her close I could feel every inch of her body. It was like the dress wasn’t even there. I whispered into her ear how is the dress even staying on, what is underneath it? She whispered back there is nothing underneath it. I was doomed.

When the show ended I grabbed a couple of bottles of champagne and glasses and said we had to get out of here. It was the longest elevator ride of my life. We got into our room and I poured a glass for us both. She was standing right next to a table with a small bag on it that I didn’t even notice at first. As we stared into each others eyes I told her how much I loved her and I moved to lower the sleeve of the dress off her shoulder. She immediately stopped me and shook her head no. I was confused. As her eyes got big again she dropped the dress herself. Holy shit! There was indeed nothing under that dress. I reached for her and again she pushed my hands away, shook her head and said no. She reached into the little bag and drew out a blindfold, put it on and pressed herself against me and said “now show me how much you love me.”

The next thing I remember is we were in a tangle of arms and legs and early morning light was coming through the window. As I watched her while she was sleeping I thought this is the most beautiful woman in the world and I get to spend the rest of my life with her. I will never forget that night.

Entry #15: Disfunction

When Annie described her family life and her journey, I found it to be a heartbreaking story.

She said that she knew who she was by the time she reached ten years old. While her mother supported her in minor ways, the animosity she received from her father devastated her. He railed against all her decisions, and when she was thirteen he threw her out of the house.

Against all odds Annie and Ellen surfed couches at the homes of friends and worked their way through high school. They went to the same college and even though they both worked around their classes, they could only afford one studio room on campus, which they shared until they graduated.

Both were lucky to land full time careers after graduation. Ellen with the government, which meant moving to Denver and Annie with an insurance company, making the move to Seattle. While building their careers they found they travelled frequently to the same cities and saw each other at least twice a month.

When we met, Annie was thirty nine, and Ellen was thirty eight. Neither were able to keep in touch with their families although through friends Annie made sure her mother always knew where she was. I remember many nights we would lie in bed and she would tell me horrible stories of her childhood. I grew to despise her father, even though we would never meet.

Even though we had not yet completed the arrangements to live together and move to Canada, our lives together were as normal as could be expected taking into consideration the discrimination she endured in the country at the time. She would take me to dance clubs in three of our favorite cities where she knew she would be safe from scrutiny and there would not be any issues. These clubs were unlike the bars or music rooms I frequented. Everyone was there to have a good time and no one cared about your personal life. We always went as a couple and were accepted as such.

After Annie passed and the months of anger and despair seemed to ease up a bit, I found that everything had changed for me mentally. It wasn’t enough that I gave up playing music. Traveling to the same cities we always travelled to, I found myself walking down the same streets, looking into the same shop windows, picking out clothes for Annie even though she was gone. One morning I woke up to find a bag on the table with a beautiful sexy dress in it. I obviously bought it the night before. At least I had the receipt so I took it back. I knew I had reached a turning point one night when I went into one of the clubs we had both visited so many times. It was so strange to go in as a male without her on my arm. There were some looks and I got the distinct feeling I wasn’t welcome any more. I was at the bar having a drink when a woman came up next to me, grabbed my ass and said hello. I turned to her, smiled and said sorry I am just leaving. I don’t know what she had in mind, but I was not interested.

I knew right then that I could not continue on like this. All of the adventures and the life we had in those cities were now just memories and every visit became more difficult. When I returned home, I quit my job. I could no longer play the music and I couldn’t continue to mentally tear myself apart revisiting those places. I just did not care about anything.

Over the intervening years the band has continued to reach out to me to play shows, but I just can’t do it. I still love music and will frequently go to some of my old clubs as long as the music is not what I played. Since I gained all the weight, most of the people I know don’t recognize me and I am ok with that. I would rather just pay for a ticket and sit in a dark corner in the back and enjoy the music without having to interact with anyone. I don’t travel much either and when I do, I pick places I haven’t been to before so I don’t have to face those old places.

I can face the fact that I have some sort of mental deficiency in dealing with this past, but the thought of going to a complete stranger to discuss it seems a bridge too far to me. Writing seems to be an adequate outlet for now, but what I miss most is having that human physical contact that comes from a having a true friend you can just hug and touch and discuss your true feelings with.

Entry #7: It’s 3am

Every morning at 3am we have this ritual that we have perfected hundreds of times.

I embrace your sleeping body, positioning my head on your neck so I can inhale the smell of you sleeping.

Once I peel back the blankets and start to explore you from head to toe, I watch as your heart beats faster, your breathing changes and you give off more body heat.

Patiently waiting.

Waiting for the moment that always comes when you open your eyes, smile at me and we start our dance.

Every night we are together we dance at 3am.

But now it’s a different dance.

It is my eyes that now open only to find the bed empty and cold.

It is just a dream.

I live the dream every night because that is all I have left.

The dreams and the memories of what once was our nightly dance.

At 3am.