Love Happens

10 Girls that I have the most chance of falling in love with according to
Love Happens

LeRoy, Nymphalidae, Remington and I started drinking in the early afternoon hours of a Saturday. Turning a blind eye to the mayhem that some hockey game on the big screen was creating in the packed bar, I professed to LeRoy that the small circle of friends we have is unique and even envied by the people that are not a part of it. The love we have shared over the past 18 months is something so rare and special that we may never find such a thing in our lifetimes again. A friendship fueled by the camaraderie of a band, the sharing of an art studio and practice space in chinatown, a fear of being alone, and an urgency to discover real meaning in a world filled with faked emotion. A friendship in time with the frenetic pace and devotion that only youth can incubate. We are not young however, and I warned Leroy that such a thing cannot last forever as cheers were sent hurling over my head towards the screen that separated me from the rest of the patrons.

Before long I found myself alone with Nymphalidae. We had dinner together in that place with the steamed up windows and then we went back to her place so she could get ready to accompany me to a party for the publisher of the magazine I work for. We shared a cigarette in the entrance of her room. The small dish on her dresser filled with ashes as she undressed in front of me and began to inquire about what she should wear. I felt closer to her at this moment than ever before, and lamented the way that I had treated her in the past. I had her try on just about everything in her closet so I could see her pink fishnets and black panties revealed ever so briefly one more time. When her closet was empty, I persuaded her into a gingham skirt with a black poppy, and we were on our way. The party was crowded with writers and musicians, and as we sat off to the side of the long table filled with empty jugs of beer and shot glasses, I wondered about the impression that I was giving my colleagues by showing up with a different woman every time we've gotten together to drink advertising money owed to us by the bars and restaurants that place ads in the magazine.

Earlier in the week I was invited over to Viridian's place, poured a cocktail and treated to a lap dance. She was so good at it, that I started questioning her past as she straddled me on the couch, which made the whole thing seem quite surreal and business like as she reminded me not to touch her. She left her home at 13, and lived on the road for 2 years, hitchhiking back and forth from mexico to saskatoon with another girl that eventually became her lover. I thought there had to be some stripping in Viridian's history as she twirled about on the painted black hardwood floor in a pair of burlesque panties. She looked so happy, smiling and laughing as she went through her routine to a Neil Diamond song. All I could do was stare in awe at what I was seeing.

A week today our band practices for the first time since last year. We will play music, laugh, and hit the town together, knowing that one day the magic will end. We will think back from the obscurity of the future, and reminisce about this time that we call the present. The moment where the smell of Nymphalidae's perfume covers my face, and the sound of Viridian laughing fills the void of the quiet loneliness as I lie here in bed writing the stories that will be with me forever.