My Couch

My Couch: By Maynika Webb

         I walk into the room and glaze at my couch. I can’t help but think about all the things and people it has seen. I feel that this piece of furniture tell my life story better than I do. Well, at least for as long as I have owned it. Which would be for about three and a half years.
         In that short time is has seen, friends and lovers and even a cat. The people are what I think of the most when I look at my couch. Some more than others. I think about how many times I have laughed with my friend Heather on this couch. How many times we tried to take a cute photo on this couch and it just didn’t work. I remember one summer, Heather was sitting on this couch when she found out her mother had died.
         Heather didn’t feel anything, due to the abusive relationship she had with mother. However, hearing her mourning sister, Wendy‘s, voice on the phone got to Heather. Wendy didn’t think their mother’s death wouldn’t affect her like it did. She wasn’t prepared for Heather’s lack of feeling either.
         I remember having a Dr. Pepper with my best childhood friend Alexis. We were just shooting the shit on my couch. After she gave me an extra DVD player she got for a wedding gift. She didn’t need it and my ex then current boyfriend Quincy broke my DVD player.
We talked about our other friend Lynette, we were once a trio. Until She went crazy in addition to finding out that I had very disappointing sex with her then ex boyfriend now husband Josh. Boy, do I regret that sexual encounter, waste of an extremely short time.
         Being none of my thoughts are in chronological order, I think of Brian. I think of the first time Brian came over to my apartment and we had sweat, rough sex on my couch for two hours. A part of me will always love Brian, even though I fucked up the nice casual thing we had going by expressing my feelings for him ten years too soon.
         Bam! There’s Kris and I having cautious, more gentle than I’m use to sex on my couch. God, I could kiss Kris for days. We had such good chemistry at first, things turned so sour, so quickly. We were both at fault and after it was over. We still had to deal with each other as roommates. Time can be a bitch.
         Quincy…my first long term, adult boyfriend. That I got so bored with and decided just to use for awhile until I couldn’t stand him anymore; would sit there on my couch and smoke pot while I was gone at work. I had asked him to only smoke in my spare bedroom, because, pot stinks. I don’t care how much you love it. Pot smells like month old rotting garbage. My Opinion, my apartment, deal with it. Of course, we  had sex on that couch too, but it wasn’t good sex. So, that’s why I mention it as, basically, a foot note.
         I saw a big man named Dan for a short time while I was seeing Kris. We were naked and writhing on the couch for awhile. He was also sleeping with his ex girlfriend, who soured him on sour after a fight they had. Causing Dan to stop sleeping with me and leaving my dick-less.
         Then my mind wonders to the times I was sick, with a cold, or pain from my period. But, The incident most vivid in my mind, is when I was laid up with an abscess on my tonsil for over a month. That couch swaddled me as I swallowed more pills than I had ever before. It saw me with frozen water bottles on my neck. It saw me living off of popsicles and slurpees for three weeks because I couldn’t swallow real food.
         This couch remembers when I was sullen, and pined for people who I knew never were going to come back to me. It remembers every case of writers block I’ve ever had. It remembers every time I’ve dance to “Rebel Yell.” By Billy Idol on it. Every meal I’ve eaten curled up on it. Every night I’ve slept on it, alone and cuddled up to someone a long time gone. Every time I was angry and punch it as a sobbed. Ever time I’ve tried to do an impression of the Star Trek: The Original Series crew.
         This couch has had my life breathed, soaked, spilled, and punched into it. If it could talk, it would destroy me.