The Space Queen

~ Matthew: 10 ~

I remember the pictures that I saw the first time I heard of "Miami" - the tall glistening city growing there on the shore. Back in the old days, in the glamour, hotels were 3 stories tall, and were the centers of all things interesting. People were excited to have a job and work in what they thought would become Florida's New York City. The most important celebrities were staying in the best rooms with champagne and room service: sunny-side up eggs and fresh-squeezed organ juice. There are surrounding neighborhoods full of exotic music and Cuban food, where people live with lots of family, and kids run around chasing each other in the park. The disparity of the class system between the two is shocking. Catholic churches line every 4 blocks on the beach. South Beach is a fashion show - muscled men that look like cattle bred for slaughter, and sugar babies / prostitutes that are young, skinny, cream of the crop wives to basketball and football players that live in condos above the city; these are the ones that are climbing from lower to upper class, and whom are generally looked down upon by everyone.

I don't know what it is that dragged me down initially in Florida, but I would tie down my family's enthusiasm and migration down there to the reasons I found myself there as well. For the first year of my life in Satellite Beach, I was flying everyday with excitement for my young life. I ran down the beach to keep myself fit. I had a girlfriend I really loved - Kay. I met her when I was 12 years old - when our families were neighbors at the beach. My mom was the first one to be able to tell that I have a crush on her with how much food on my plate I was/wasn't eating, how many times I would lift weights, and how I would sneak into my father's room to color my hair. She was my first thought in the morning, and the last thought before I went to bed - wondering how something could be so beautiful, sweet, and perfect.

Kay and I had kissed once or twice at 13 and 14, but then there was a good chunk of time at the end of high school and throughout college where I didn't hear from her and forgot about her while I lost my sexual innocence. I saw her again when I moved back to Satellite Beach at the age 21. It was then that all the feelings had come back - making me want to be a good person: the man that I had dreamed about being as a kid, and connected to my heart. I was in Marines bootcamp, and my father was insanely proud of me. Their marriage was getting to a good place, and I wanted to get into a marriage that would honor that by getting into what I believed was true love.

Kay, beautiful, Christian, pure-hearted Kay. I would be a fool not to marry her. She's a woman devoted to God by reading the Bible and praying the rosary. She gives to her community church. She's only had one boyfriend before me, but she never once forgot about me - like Mom, she would sit out dreaming of me too. That kind of adoring love can be an addiction to a man. The sweetness of our relationship shined through to everyone that saw it. Everyone in the family comes to our wedding, and the guests can't help but remark on how beautiful the "blushing bride" is.

We take our honeymoon in Key West as the young, beautiful couple. Our honeymoon suite is a bed littered with rose petals. It was there that we both lost our virginity on the sheets. Sprawled over her body, her hair fraying everywhere, I made promises that I felt in my heart of hearts that I could not keep. They were promises in the kisses I littered on her body as she closed her eyes and dreamed of the sun.

By day, she would be my wife, and at night, we would make love. We never knew such an intimacy - it was as if we're being cradled by a cocoon of love. Neither of us were ready for the responsibility of being parents, but we made the promise between the joining of our bodies that we would stay together and support each other throughout our lives.

I threw myself into bootcamp - doing push ups, pull-ups, curl ups, planks, running, climbing the rope and swinging to the other side. I learned everything about the Marines, and pulled their mantras into my heart as part of my soul. I thought that I was ready when I ran up and climbed the rope. Looking down below, I heard "Come on Matt" I realize my own limitations. I can't do it! Then I think to myself how stupid it is to be afraid if I want to lay my life down for my country. I don't know what I can and cannot do until I try it. I swing to the other side, reaching for the next rope, and taking the plunge into the mud. I opened my eyes to the laughter around me, cheeks burning to the recognition of my failures, brush the dirt off my pants, smirk, and act like I can do it again better than the first time. My pride falls apart pretty quickly after that.

I remember one time telling Kay about the story of the Space Queen - it was a moment of intimacy I instantly regretted because there was no need for her to know about my half-finished story. She probably would think that I'm stupid and pathetic, which is why I kept it hidden for as long as possible.

"I love it" she says, leaning on my chest, stroking it back and forth. "The fact that her father died, that she's forced to leave her mom and sister with obstacle after obstacle with no comfort in sight. She learns that there's layers and layers to the cosmos that she couldn't even imagine. It makes me feel comforted. It reminds me of us - venturing into our young lives with the future unknown. There's so much we don't know, and we have to be patient with ourselves"

I do not feel comforted. It's obvious that I'm falling behind. I start drinking again, and I drink everyday until I am wasted. I come into training stumbling. I feel like an idiot, and Kay knows that I do not feel good about myself anymore. She starts to turn away from me.

One day, she finds that I've come in drunk, miss the bathroom, and throw up on the living room floor. She hands me cleaning wipes, and kicks me out of the room that night.

The next day, I flunk out of bootcamp. There are unanswered messages on the phone - I do not read any of them because all the names blur together. There at the bar, nursing my second drink, I see her sitting there.

She has dark ebony skin, and black hair that goes all the way to the middle of her back. Her hips are the size of watermelons, and her dress opens so that I can get a hint of what is inside.

"Rough day?" she asks, pursing her dark red lips together.

"You have no idea."

"Why don't you tell me?" she asks, scooting closer to me while motioning for the bartender to get a drink for me.

So I tell her all about the frustrations I've been having, how much I love Kay, how I've wanted to impress my parents, make myself stronger, and more resilient. By the time I'm done, there's no words to say. I'm looking into her eyes, and I see that there's no sympathy in her eyes - she wants to fuck me, and I want to fuck her.

I'm speeding down the highway to take her back to my house. We enter the bedroom, I lock the door, and she pounces onto the bed - sliding her legs open like a door. By the time Kay gets home, she hears us at climax. There is the sound of her yelling "Matt!" and screaming while we complete ourselves - shaking the bed frame around us, and knocking the bedside lamp onto the floor.

The first thing the woman does after she's done is slide off the bed and show her sweaty body to Kay, smirking at her.

Kay cries and runs out of the house.

Mom calls and asks, "How can you do this to her?"

I'm an asshole. Calmly, and rationally, I decide to apply to the Coast Guard in Miami and make preparations to leave here.

She's up that morning, waiting for me, with breakfast. Loving, beautiful Kay. The image of her unfailing love is enough to send me to the door.