Monday, April 20, 2009

Spinning in Brown's Orbit

When Brown and I first started dating, I was working for a startup cable TV channel that was supposed to inspire alcoholics, drug addicts and others in "recovery" to get clean. The only problem was, all of the company's not-quite-recovering execs relapsed at the same time.

I'd been lured in by a $3,000 raise and a title that didn't include the word secretary or assistant. I thought "marketing coordinator" meant I finally had a job that would lead to bigger and better things.

Instead, I found myself doing boring and unenviable tasks like calling every cable system in the United States to confirm their contact information and enter it into a database. While insane people literally screamed at each other and at me.

At work, I'd surreptitiously type diary entries to myself that went like this:
My life stops, every day for nine hours. It comes to a complete, grinding halt. Like being at the top of a roller coaster, before you take the downward plunge. The only break from the monotony is getting sh*t on by passing birds and rudely bumped by the next set of roller cars.
Was it any wonder that Brown, the only bright spot in my miserable workaday life, became the center of my universe?

We only saw each other about once a week, but after glorious, heavenly, mountain-moving sex, he would kiss my eyelids and say the darnedest things.

Like I was the best lover he ever had, in all categories. Best film, best actress, best short story, best visuals ("'Cause you be staring at a brother with those big eyes"), best foreign film ("'Cause from time to time, you do start speaking in tongues and a brother don't know what you're saying") and a few more that made me laugh and go all gooey at the same time.

Or he'd say something really insightful about my job, which he nicknamed the Lunacy Network. "The Lunacy Network is just like Star Trek. A big ship floating in outer space picking up strange forms of life. It never went anywhere, it never landed and the captain was always in a dilemma."

Was it any wonder I absolutely, positively made him my sun, my moon, my stars, my universe?

In a rare moment of letting his guard down, Brown told me that I "sedated" him, that I gave him calm and peace. He was having a hard time at work and a hard time dealing with his dad's death, and I was, in his words, "low maintenance."

It was true. I never put pressure on him. I never nagged him. I never demanded that he spend time with me. I never asked for money. I never snooped through his things. I never did anything except love him with all my heart. I was his satellite, happily spinning around and basking in his glow.

(Brown Diaries Part 7 of 18: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 | Lessons Learned 1-3: 1 2 3)

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5 comments:

Luscious Sealed Lips said...

He must have loved you so much for what you were to him. But more than often, men tend to take this 'low maintenance' love for granted. Losing what they cherished the most.

Kisses.

Allison Brown said...

It is wonderful to be reading your wonderfully honest words again :-)

Enchantress said...

Great sex followed by all the things you want to hear floating over your lovers lips can restore one's faith in utopia.

Cheron L. Hall said...

Uh oh...here it comes...I can feel it...

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