Acid Feels Like Love
The thought of a new kind of high was thrilling. The kind of thrilling where your entire body is buzzing. We decided to do it alone at my house because I had never done it before and he was worried about overstimulation or whatever. I was worried about everything because my phone screen shone brightly with 1,000 accounts of first trips, advice, and warnings.
He laughed at me when he noticed, smiled, then admitted that he'd done the same his first time. He said it with an arrogance that made the sentence stale but I felt reassured. He had magic dimples.
It didn't taste good. We put on music, turned down the lights, and I flitted around the bedroom lighting candles and incense. I set a wonderful mood. He busied himself in the kitchen making food so we wouldn't have to later when we were enjoying our trip. I settled in amongst the filthy, smelling blankets and pillows and tried to melt into my surroundings. I knew how to be high. I was an experienced veteran and I was ready for my next assignment. I worried that elevation would never come, closed my eyes and listened to the clattering in the kitchen. We danced around each other, but not with each other.
He came back in and we listened to music. We talked about the tiny changes that were happening as the universe in the back of my head came forth and swallowed me whole. Lucille Ball laughed at me from my wall. I was content to sit and talk with her. We're both Leos. Her laugh sounded like magic. I was annoyed the first time he pulled me out of my trance.
His beard was overgrown and his hair was wild and unruly. Though we'd been living together for weeks, glued together like a cheap press-on nail to a suffocated finger, and yet I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him brush his teeth. The shower didn't work because of a busted pipe from the winter before. It was June. The stench had stopped affecting me, but with him breathing down my neck and chattering aggressively into my ear I was suddenly aware of it all. He must have been sucking me into his own anxieties because he quickly started to panic.
My body felt heavy as I sat up and pulled him to me, mouthing an apology to Lucy on the wall as I reminded him to breathe. I could feel irritation burning hot beneath my skin, alight with the stars that I couldn't focus on long enough to feel.
He told me he loved me because I put aside my joy to take care of him. He took it back in the morning when he realized how much power he was giving me. He didn't realize that I would never use it. I looked up at him with heavy eyes, tired from warding off the acid fairy so that I could pull him out of a spiral of death and panic. He looked at me with blank eyes, eyes that couldn't possibly be feeling real things, and I believed him.
The next time I tripped, I took enough that I couldn't ignore my own feelings even if I wanted to.