A lot of people say that they have no memories of the moments of and the moments after a traumatic event's occurrence. I remember every second, though.
The sirens at the fire station nearby started sounding just as the sky grew freakishly dark. I was sitting on my balcony, smoking a bowl and taking a break from the online poker tournament I was playing in. It took just long enough for me to wonder "what the hell is going on out here" before I was hit. I smelled smoldering matches & clean rain in the most powerful sensory assault ever before everything went white. My body was jolted with energy I would have never thought it could handle as the lightening popped and surged through it. My toes tingled and I felt every single cell in my body shrieking with the force of it all. As quickly as it began, it stopped.
I sat dazed for a minute. I looked around me for signs that I was dead or dreaming -- surely that didn't just happen. As I caught my breath, though, it set in more and more that something tremendous had just happened. I was alive and certainly not asleep. I felt more alive than ever, actually. The world felt different -- like my flesh was no longer a boundary between my being and the universe. The darkness had not lifted, but I could feel the light seeping into my skin. I couldn't explain it but I couldn't deny it.
I sat on my balcony for a while longer that night, smoking more weed & even sneaking in a cigarette or two. Back in my college days I had dabbled a bit in rolling on ecstasy. I loved the feelings it brought, but feared turning my brain in to mush, otherwise I'm sure I would have used it more. Lots of people used to complain about being so horny but so unable to obtain release when they were rolling, but I never had that problem. I was horny, alright, but had no issues at all with reaching incredible, mind-bending, earth-shattering orgasms. The first time I ever tried it was at a party with a group of friends -- we were at one's home in the middle of nowhere outside of Atlanta and my wussy self finally caved and downed a couple of beans.
My friend Anjar was with me that night. We had known each other since freshman year and gotten to realize we were great drinking buddies and wingmen for each other. I liked girls just as much as he did, so we were a powerful one-two punch. He was tall, dark, and handsome....I'm tall, curvy, and blessed with an amazing cascade of curly red hair that gets me tons of compliments. This was back before I got tattooed & pierced up, and was during a phase when I dressed much more conservatively, so I was able to play the good (girl) to his blatantly sexual man well. We had exchanged a fair number of high fives as we left with our respective conquests many a evening, but we had never done anything together until that night.
I wish I remembered more of that encounter, but I was boozy with wine and electrified by the pretty pink pills I had popped. We had wandered into the wooded area behind our friend's house when I became convinced there were four-leaf clovers to be found there. I lost my balance and he sat down next to me when some playful tickling and petting lead to a point-of-no-return kiss that unleashed a floodgate of grasps and bites and thrusts. My memories after that are mostly freeze-framed flashes of our lust-filled and uninhibited night together.
