Appearances By: None
Mentioned: Zimdela Brudon


Sometimes…
I Think Too Much


A friggin’ week and already I’m “home” sick. I miss the embrace of my lover, the way his body feels, spooned against my back as we sleep. I could complain all I wanted about how he was not so conscientious, but in reality, it could be a Hell of a lot worse. I mean, I could have a boyfriend like Zimdela Brudon, which wouldn’t truly be a relationship. I’d be a fuck-friend, a proverbial pin cushion and a punching bag. Not that that’s never happened before. At least mon diable was affectionate when I did see him.

And I’m not just talking about the sex, either. Though sometimes it may not seem so, I do have other things on my mind other than fornicating with Darkstar. Big bad Gwen has her girly moments. In all honesty, I’m a hopeless romantic. Not your classic hopeless romantic, mind you. I’m not into flowers or whatever. Hell, I’d be happier with a dozen of variously gauged, stainless steel catheters and a box of handcuffs. That’s the ticket to my heart, I’ll tell you for nothing.

I have been doing a lot of thinking during this week. Did simulations in my head of what would become of me if I were to leave Darkstar. I would lose touch with Demonica undoubtedly. I’d probably also turn back into a whore. Not my proudest moment. But without a lover, there was no point to celibacy. I’d seen too many of my girlfriends, prudish or otherwise, fall into years of forced abstinence due to lack of action. Not me. Nope. I’m a trollop and I know it. A monogamous trollop, but still one.

It wasn’t like my boyfriend was any better. We didn’t talk about our pasts too much, but I got most of the dirt from Demonica. Underhanded, yes, but it was good to know what you’re dealing with before falling too hard. Besides, I knew how DS was about his past: cryptic and agitated by it. It was sad really, I didn’t even know his real name until recently when I started snooping. Of course, for his sake, I would never divulge such information. He would be very upset with me.

I thought back to the first day Darkstar and I met. The circumstances of our meeting were less than impressive. Demonica and I had had a bit of a… incident… that required us to spend some jail time. Long story, boring ending. Needless to say, we came out on top. Well, Darkstar bailed us out. I paid him back, obviously, but for a first meeting… not the best.

And then there was the first day we got together. Demonica had agreed to be my manger in Spotlight Syndicate Wrestling V.1, and Darkstar was wrestling. My place was being renovated so I was staying in Alaska with Demonica. A week before, Darkstar and his ex-girlfriend, Villana Novavich had broken up. She had tried to change him, make him a good boy. Coloured clothing, the plywood taken down from the windows and vanilla sex. She was loud… I could hear her three floors down. The only reason I know, promise. He lost the definition to his voice: the guttural rasp was gone and he spoke like any Average Joe. He stopped wearing his makeup. Stopped training. And predominantly ignored Demonica and myself. Really, I didn’t think anything of it because I didn’t know him too well to begin with. But I knew it bugged the Hell out of Demonica, whether she would admit it or not.

Then something happened. I don’t know what, but something did. He changed completely. The rasp returned to his voice, he started painting his skull and face again. Dark clothing returned to his wardrobe and the boards began to go back up, including the ones that separated off half of the mansion. They were arguing, again. They’d do it every night they’d seen each other since he’d returned to his “normal” self. And I use the term normal, loosely.

Demonica and I were in the basement in her apartment-styled chambers, watching the boob-tube. Something thumped hard against the floor above us, which was a feat in itself considering the thickness of the material used to separate floors and rooms. Apparently, Darkstar broke something. I just rolled my eyes and asked if they ever stop. Then Demonica said something that we both agreed on: ‘Who cares? We have the real DS back at least.’ This was the day I ‘died’ and became Aphrodisia.

We’d gone upstairs to cook up some popcorn for the movie we rented. Villana was bawling and heading for the door, so naturally, I had to be a bitch and make her mood just a teeny bit worse. I asked her if she had fucked him good again: a double entendre that I’m proud of to this day. Being the woman that she is, she resorted to name-calling. She spied the welts on my neck from Demonica’s hands and immediately began calling me, Gwen Jordan: Dykish, Goth Doctor. Which, really, if you think about it, made no sense, whatsoever. But that was Villana for you.

She erupted on Demmy and I, saying we were bad influences on Darkstar and that it was our fault he was the way he was. She said we were whores, just sponging off of him and that we needed to grow up. Darkstar, however, came in just as she referred to us as the sponging whores. He told her to get out and to never come back.

A week later… we found solace together. Demonica and Darkstar were training in the basement, and I was roaming the house. Well, yay me, I found a hot tub. Unbeknownst to me, it was Darkstar’s personal washroom. I put my hair into chopsticks and donned my halter-topped bikini: a black number with black widow spiders on each cup. He came in, perhaps fifteen minutes later, dropping his pants in the process. I guess he wasn’t expecting me to be there. And it wasn’t like he was naked. He had on a pair of blue boxer shorts.

Unfazed, he crawled into the hot tub with me. We talked for a while, then he splashed me and it was all over there. I splashed back, he dunked me, I attempted to dunk him to no avail. C’mon… you try putting someone’s head under water – when you’re only playing – when they’re nine inches taller than you and twice your weight. Yeah, it just don’t work.

So, while I was all wrapped up around him, hanging all of my one-hundred and forty-five pound self off his head and neck. The tension was as thick as the mist in the air. He whispered my name and I kissed him. I was so nervous, feeling almost thirteen again. I had a horrible feeling in my stomach that was rising up to my chest, fearing that he would push me away. To my surprise, his arms encased my waist and drew me close, kissing me deeper.

And of course, being the mature, intellectuals that we are – believe it or not – we discussed the pros and cons of getting into a relationship. I remember that day. He said so many things that would make even the most stone-hearted of women melt. I now remember why I’m with him and still with him. I’ll never try to change him like Villana did. He’s just Darkstar, and no one can change him. Probably not even himself.

Sometimes, I really do think too much…


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