I was reminded the other day of that time we took a bath. Do you remember that time? It was your old apartment, when you lived a town over from me. I mean, yeah, it had to have been that time, because that was when we dated. But I was thinking about it, because I think about bathing with other people a lot. Well, not a lot, but I think about it. It's something I want to be doing more. Bathing with other people. It's kind of like a nice thing that you can do with someone, to invite them into your personal space but also force them to do the same with you, and you're both sort of naked like children and there's no room for animosity or anything. You know? Like if you're in a bathtub with someone, there are only a few things you can really do: wash, make love, talk, or get out. I mean I guess you could drown someone, but there's something about being naked in a tub of water with someone that makes you want to kill them, even less than you ordinarily would want to kill them, which is hopefully not at all.
But I was reminded of that time we took a bath together. I've only bathed with two other girls in my whole life. The first time was a shower at the Jersey shore. Seaside Heights to be specific, which is a total shithole. I hated pretty much every moment I was there. I was there with my high school girlfriend and her friends after her prom. The first night consisted of... no, I don't even want to talk about it because the whole weekend sucked. It was cold and rainy and a bunch of shitty things happened. But at one point we took a shower together, at my behest, in the motel shower. It was silly, because all I really wanted to do was have sex, but the startling awkward bareness of it all, like we were two naked children, made me not want to have sex. I couldn't even really help her wash herself, and she did not really want to even look at me naked. I tried not to stare at her naked body, though it was one of the few times that I ever really looked at her fully nude in the light. The second time was with you. The third time was with the girl I dated after you, and it was really sexual, which I enjoyed because it was what I had wanted. It was a partial fulfillment of that fantasy.
But when you and I took that bath...
It was wintertime. Very cold outside. It had probably snowed... I think in my head, on most of the nights I spent in your apartment there was snow outside, ice on the roads, and your apartment had the warm insulation of bodies and heat and mess. Your place was so messy. The scent was warm. I didn't like walking around your apartment barefoot because it felt so dirty. But I did it anyway because when you are naked a lot of the time, especially after sex, you don't put socks or shoes on. I think especially after sex, it's rude to put socks and shoes on because it seems like you're leaving. Right?
So we took a bath. We left the door open, I think, so your rabbit could get in and out. I think I would hear his pitter-patter every now and again.
I think we made out a little bit, but mostly I think we just sat and talked. I remember, I think my penis floating in the water, sticking up due to a combination of bloodflow and laws of physics. At any rate, though, I remember the end of the bath. The water had lost its heat, despite our warm virile bodies that were so used to sex, to friction and passion. And I remember I sat behind you, clutching you. We were huddled in water that I don't think even came up too far. Maybe your drain didn't seal tightly, and gradually the tub had been draining? That makes sense. It would justify both the water level and the temperature.
We started shivering, though, because the water was getting cold. I liked the naked clutching in the water, and I was trying so hard to put off getting out. But it got to the point that we couldn't stave it off any longer, though we knew the first moments getting out would be even colder. We dried off. I stepped onto the bathroom floor reluctantly, grinding my teeth at the thought of the filthy floor and my wet feet. We dried off, and we walked into your bedroom. The lights were out, minus a few Christmas lights, I think. I remember it being very dark. Darkness and wintertime, those are the things I think of when I think about making love to you. But when we got into your room, I imagine we must have crawled under the covers together, and undoubtedly had sex. Sex with you was always enjoyable, and in retrospect I feel a great affection for you and for those times, even though the affection really came after we dated. But most likely we made love in your warm bedroom, with the winter just outside. I probably skipped class the next morning so I could sleep in with you, the white white light pouring in through your window, and we probably even made love and then ate breakfast. But it all seems to come from that memory of the bath.
You remember that bath we took? It was nice.