The Last Time

And I'm surprised she can hear me at all even though he's talking at the same time, because I can barely hear myself, as he reminds me of how foolish and complacent I was. And I didn't realize I was losing her this time for good. And every time in bed I'm surprised by her anew, that she wants to keep listening, with big, big pupils, especially now after the engagement. And again and again, inappropriate things I shouldn't have said slip out by mistake

Escaping with her on the motorcycle (Source)

I dreamed we were in her bed and I received the news that she has a fiancé. And even though we're in bed, we're keeping [the laws of] touch [refraining from physical contact between unmarried men and women] (because only she had the courage to break it, and I never would), and "instead of letting things just be," as she always used to tell me - I'm digging into her. And interrogating her about her and him, though I don't have the courage to ask what really interests me, so I beat around the bush. And she is surprisingly very nice and attentive and looks at me so much that maybe she's suddenly starting to give me a chance again now (!). And in the bed there's a kind of old radio with a cassette that was lying there, with an old recording of me without my knowledge (did she want to keep it to hear my voice?). And I'm surprised she can hear me at all even though he's talking at the same time, because I can barely hear myself, as he reminds me of how foolish and complacent I was. And I didn't realize I was losing her this time for good.

And every time in bed I'm surprised by her anew, that she wants to keep listening, with big, big pupils, especially now after the engagement. And again and again, inappropriate things I shouldn't have said slip out by mistake, about how compatible we are and how beautiful and inviting and attractive she is even though it's most inappropriate to say, and it seems to me that I've already lost, and that she's now kicking me out of her house before her mother comes and sees a yeshiva boy in bed, but she's still curious, curious, and it's not clear why. And she's interested in hearing about my relationship with her, and about my long talks about why it failed, even though she told me long ago that she's not willing for me to talk about it at all, because she's afraid I'll try to convince her to try again. And so we never talk about it.

And I tell her that we talked too much about the relationship all the time, and we should have just enjoyed (even though she's the one who raised doubts from the beginning and I was crazy about her), and thus I hint to her that if this time it happens - then she'll enjoy it very much, and I try to arouse her to it, but then her mother really knocks on the door and we have to jump off the mattress and leave. And her mother who always hated me (because I wasn't good enough for her daughter) is indeed watching over us, but also suddenly smiling at me, even though I'm with her daughter in bed and with the radio, and in a normal situation it would be a catastrophic scandal and my last time. And I need to try to quickly turn off the radio that keeps going, and who knows what immodest nonsense I said and how careless I was (because she was the only one ever with whom I would speak freely and openly) and now her mother will hear and throw me out of bed with her righteous daughter.

And I want to do it terribly but can't find the button, because it's an old radio, and I start to panic and press all the buttons, maybe turn if I lower the volume to zero it's like turning it off, but the buttons aren't related to the cassette - only to the radio. And I try to press the buttons instead of turning and it's not clear what it does, and I don't know how to operate it, because I want to show her and her mother that I'm a scholar who knows how to operate electrical devices, and maybe earn two or three points. Because the whole conversation was just what to say and what not to say to earn two points with her, even though no matter how many points I earn with her - I always lose.

And they really have patience for me to turn it off, this complicated talker, and it seems that pleasant glances were actually exchanged between mother and daughter about me being in bed and not the fiancé, because with the fiancé she would never do such a thing. That's clear. And with me there's some kind of unspoken understanding, which I don't understand its nature, and don't understand the meaning of the suddenly nice treatment towards me, as if there's something they want. And it seems to me that it's related to her mother's return to religion [becoming religious], and to something I don't understand about this return (because I never understood those who become religious).

But I feel helpless in this bed, and understand what they didn't understand that it's impossible to turn it off, that I won't succeed, and meanwhile it's chattering and can ruin everything. And in the end I take out the big fat batteries and flip one from minus to plus, so it won't get lost, because I still wanted to impress them with the cleanliness of the act, that the radio would remain whole from the outside. And it becomes quiet, and it becomes embarrassing, and I suddenly realize that her mother only sees what's happening above the blanket but how does she actually know what we're doing underneath. And in order not to make a bad impression, which would ruin everything finally, I suddenly say I need to go, so as not to overdo it and lose what I might have finally progressed back into her heart, and maybe it's not too late. Because sometimes you need to know the wisdom of when to stop, which I never knew. And here, precisely in that I know when to give up - I prove to her that I've changed, and maybe she gives me another point inside her. And maybe I also earned points with her mother, because I probably remind her that she had a life before God, and maybe she also secretly wants something for her daughter. Otherwise how could it be that they received me like this in bed, without even shame?

And she, my first love, wants to accompany me, and I can't believe it, after she never had patience for goodbyes. And I tell her she can't accompany me because I'm on a motorcycle, and she says just to the entrance of the house on the street up the stairs she'll accompany because from there it's easy to return. And she joins me on the motorcycle behind, and I want to show her that I'm a man, contrary to my external appearance, so I'm silent and don't react to her holding me, and again breaking touch, and even a bit too close than necessary and her breasts touch my back, and I curse her shirt and my suit, because you can barely feel and I'm not sure at all that you feel, actually, but they're supposed to be there (and maybe she feels!).

And she might be surprised that I'm finally silent, but holds me from behind and I ride the motorcycle with deliberate wildness as hard and dangerous as possible to offset the lack of masculinity in the endless chatter from before about our relationship, and my feelings about the relationship and what was - and to create an effect of mystery in front of her. Because she read me easily and that was the mistake. And I understand now belatedly, when she's behind me, holding me, the terrible mistake because of which I lost her - you must never give up the secret. No matter how much you love. Especially when you most want something or someone (or a woman) - you must not be open.

And I drove like a madman with all the gas zigzagging up the stairs to excite her, so that she would jump up and down behind me, and there's nothing to do even if she's the most righteous innocent in the world it will excite her these jumps and the zigzag, again and again with intensity, and intentionally I drove on the stairs themselves with the engine so it would jump up and down and go wild and I put full gas to scare her, so she would see a side of me she doesn't know, not such a nebbish from the yeshiva. But all this was on an ascent that is actually very small, just from the door to her house to the entrance to the house from the street, something like 5-6 stairs, and I promised myself out of fear that the moment I reach the top I'll let her off and say goodbye to her and then of course I'll get off the motorcycle and drive very carefully by bus. Because I don't want to kill myself and I don't know how to ride a motorcycle at all (which I didn't tell her so as not to look like an idiot). But I couldn't get the motorcycle up the upper stairs that became more and more steep, no matter how much I pressed on the pedal, it no longer pulled - and couldn't handle it. And I see her and her mother looking from the window, and that they saw me going to the station and waiting for the bus and not even knowing how to drive a car, certainly not a motorcycle. And they wave goodbye to me - and giggle.