Section 8

Chapter 8

The expense of spirit in a waste of shameIs lust in action.
- William Shakespeare, sonnet 129

8

That first night was unforgettable. Chloe and I discussed art, as she was a painter; music, as she was a violinist; theatre, as she was the lead in all of her high school productions; and literature, as she was a bookworm, like me. Also, at the time, I was submerged in Shakespeare – the identity enigma that is… you know, the idea that perhaps the guy from Stratford wasn’t the real author, but just some wanker – it’s a big deal to those in the know, and quite controversial. Anyhow, she once told me that had it not been for my fascination with the mystery, and the passion with which I pursued it, things probably would have never turned out the way they did. “I fell in love with Marcus and Shakespeare,” she would say. Of course, we were in love at the time.
The connection we had, and all of the strange commonalities that we shared, were eerie. It seemed as if even my most obscure interests and odd attractions came naturally for her… and vice versa. She beguiled me. She captivated me. And as will happen when such things occur, we were propelled, our lips colliding… one thing leading to another….
Then, unprotected, we made love. It was a different sort of thing, but wonderful. She touched herself, which I had never seen before, and she moaned with each thrust. Not in that fake porn star way, but in the way that every guy dreams of… she was really loving it. And when she finally roared,“Oh God, I’m coming, I’m coming!”I knew it was real, I knew that she meant it. She shivered with each after effect,
she panted with each slight touch,
and finally, she came to rest.
She looked up at me; she owned me. We kissed.
Charm, J.M. Barrie said, is “a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it, you don’t need to have anything else; and if you don’t have it, it doesn’t much matter what else you have.”
Chloe certainly had it. She certainly had me.
But as Cyril Connolly wrote, “All charming people having something to conceal, usually their total dependence on the appreciation of others.”
The truth.
Chloe was not the person I touched that night.
She never was, but I fell in love with her anyway.