When I was younger I never really enjoyed watching TV. I was always more partial to reading or having books read to me; the latter being the more enjoyable of the two. I wasn’t sure why, but stories just always seemed to be more enjoyable when presented auditory instead of visual. And now, whenever I watched TV I’m just left disappointed with how much television consumes so much of our daily lives. People just use the convenience of the TV to ease the pain of living, the pain which we inconspicuously perpetuate as slaves to the industrial world.
I tried to take interest in this reality show I was watching with my girlfriend, Lexis, but I couldn’t get in to it. It even baffled me how someone as brilliant as her could be so captivated by such a stupid show. TV was bad, but reality TV was the worst. Watching reality TV was like listening to someone tell a story when you know that they’re lying. It’s fake, stupid and hypocritical. I hated the idea of people wasting their time watching so much television, but I could at least enjoy shows that were well scripted. I appreciated the work that writers put into their shows and I love watching shows that I could tell were well written. I never got that feeling with reality TV. Although, I’m sure that most of it is scripted.
“So why don’t we like Kate?” I asked as I ran my fingers through Lexis’s hair.
“Because she’s kind of with Tom but she always talks about how she wants Jack and how he’s perfect for her”. She glanced up into my eyes with a serious look on her face.
“Is that a joke?”
“Of course not.” She said turning her eyes back towards the television.
“Okay, we need to do something else, because watching this show is literally decimating my brain cells.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. What are we doing?”
“Well, right now we’re sitting.” I pat the side of the couch that she wasn’t on. “Yep, definitely sitting. Well I’m sitting; you’re kind of just sprawled out across my abdomen. ”
She rolled her eyes again. “SHUT UP. Let’s get ice cream”. She said motioning towards the door.
“Let’s watch Breaking Bad.” I said motioning towards the remote control.
“Let’s do both.” She said as she lifted her head off of my chest.
“Damn, if only our society built ice-cream serving robots that had built in Wi-Fi connections and could stream Breaking Bad for our viewing pleasure.”
“Damn, so what do we do?”
“Invest everything we own and all of our money to Japanese scientists who can manufacture these robots.”
“Why Japanese?” “They build the best robots.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“But you love me.”
“Shut up.” She stood up and lifted her keys off of the end of the table. She glared at me, waiting for me to get up to follow her. “Ice Cream”. I lifted the remote and waved it to her, implying that I didn’t feel like going anywhere and she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m going.” I shrugged my shoulders and continued looking at the TV as she opened the door. “Are you coming?”
I sighed. “I guess I have to, don’t I?” She nodded her head. “Damn, you’re always right.” I said and she smiled as I got up and followed her out the door.
“Where are we getting ice cream?” I asked as I opened her car door. She kissed me on the cheek before stepping inside, and I walked around and got into the car.
“I don’t know yet.” She said as I started the car.
“Hmm… maybe you should think of something.” I responded.
“But I can’t think”
“Oh dear, that is an issue.”
“Yeah, so you’ll have to think for me.” She started playing with the radio.
“But I don’t think I can think either.”
“Well shit.” I stop the car
“You know what’s cool?”
“This ice cream seems pretty cool”. I shook my head. “Okay then.” She replied. “What’s cool? “
“You’re cool.” I said as I bit into my waffle cone.
“NO you are.” She countered.
We can’t both be cool? I asked, turning her attention away from Breaking Bad.
“Nope, only you.” She turned back to the television in an attempt to have the last word. I kept going.
“But you’re like way cooler than I am.”
“Other way around.” She answered without looking away from the show.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I DO.” I could tell she was beginning to get annoyed, but she was always so cute when I annoyed her so I kept going.
“But you’re wrong. You’re definitely the cooler of the two of us.”
Her smile widened and I could hear the sound of victory in her voice “Hmm… I thought I was always right?”
She thought she had me, but I was quick to respond. “I did too, but this new evidence suggests otherwise. I have irrefutable proof that says that you’re cooler than I am.”
She officially realized that I wasn’t going to let her enjoy the show and she gave in. “Oh? What’s that?”
“I just now invented a device called the cool-o-meter and it determines who’s the coolest out of two people, when I entered both of our names its response said that you are over %75 cooler than I am.”
She let out the most adorable giggle. “I think your device is broken”.
“It can’t be broken.” I explained. “I designed it to be unbreakable.”
“It was made broken”. She chastised. It won’t break anymore but it was broken to begin with.
I smiled. “No, it was made to perfection. Not a single flaw in its design, a masterfully crafted device.”
“I thought you wanted to watch this”. She scolded as she curled closer to me on the couch and laid her head in on my shoulder.
“I did, but now I don’t.” I respond as I lifted her head up to mine by her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. She returned the gift and we both became entranced with each other. I moved my arm around her neck, gently cradling her head as I continued to passionately embrace her. She wrapped her arm around my back and pulled my body closer to her, leaving only our clothes to fill in the space between us. We carried on, more deeply, and more passionately. As she seductively ran her fingers under my shirt and up my chest, I lifted her up and positioned her horizontally on the couch as I ascended above her. She extended her arm out to unfix my belt as I pulled my shirt from over my head and tossed it on the floor.
I could hear the voice of Walter White in the background as our bodies were grinding together in rhythm, impelling a torrent of eroticized passion. She reached under her back, revealing the remote and clicked the power button for the TV before she threw it to the ground and pulled me back on top of her. The room darkened as the television turned off and pure romance prevailed, allowing only a narrow beam of moonlight to pierce through the window and illuminate our nocturnal metaphor. The amorous instant became condemned in time, squeezed into the present moment; betraying the idealized concept that love is solar. No, not for us, our love was something else, something that embraced the darkness. It took refuge in the dark—within this somber blindness dwelled the very essence of our romance. All other feelings were cast away and we were left with only the shaded contrasts of our passion and lust. It was as Shakespeare’s Juliet beckoned that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun: that is where true love lies, in the night. We foolishly credit the sun for such attribution, but it is in night that we were lead to accentuate this present moment, where expression is fierce and love is wild. Compressed in time by the immanence of our paramour, we expressed our own luminosity and released all control.
That night was over a month ago, and I hadn’t heard from Lexis in weeks. I had tried instant messaging her, texting her, I even sent her a tweet but she was incredibly successful in adverting me.
“I don’t know what to say,” I say into my cellphone after I hear the certain vexatious dial tone from her voicemail message. “But I fell for you. I liked talking to you, but I never knew what to say. I still don’t know what to say. I guess, I’m sorry. But you don’t want sorry. And I don’t know what you want because you won’t tell me. So now I’m confused and you’re just bitter.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Look Alexis, I—“
She picked up. “What?” Her voice was poignant and dreary.
I was at first terrified of her, terrified of the beauty of her voice that I would adore. “Lexis, I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry.”
“What’s left for us?” She asked as a hopeful spark surged through my body. “We were so young, and there was so much of us left unexplored. No chance for a happy ending. But this is what you want.” And she wept, confessing nothing. She had done nothing. But she was still ashamed, and I was ashamed for what I’d done. So I wept with her.
“No.” I confessed myself; though I too had done nothing. “I was just afraid. I was afraid and confused and excited. I liked you. I like you. And I think you like me. But it’s been so long since I’ve like anyone, or at least admitted it to myself, because the last time I did that, the last time I opened myself up and gave my love to someone, I ended up breaking her heart. And then you come along, and you’re perfect…”
“Look Barry, I can’t…” Her words are held captive by her voice and can barely clamber up her throat unhindered.
“Lexis, wait. If you never see my face again will you still see me in your dreams? Hear my voice? Taste my lips? Will you forget me or will you forget us?”
“I can’t.
“Please…”
Click.