Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    From $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Loving & Leaving
    Loving & Leaving
    Loving & Leaving
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    Loving & Leaving

    By Jack Lucci

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The first installment of Jack Lucci's living memoir, Loving & Leaving spans five years, touching on themes of gratefulness and regret and stories of love for people, places, narcotics,

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKoehler Books
    Release dateMar 28, 2023
    ISBN9781646639137
    Loving & Leaving
    Author

    Jack Lucci

    The melancholic American writer Jack Lucci was born in a valley in southeastern Washington, at the base of the Blues. You can find his blog, Separation Naturalist, on his website, jacklucci.com. Loving & Leaving is his first book.

    Related to Loving & Leaving

    Related ebooks

    Biography & Memoir For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • UNLIMITED

      Too Much Seinfeld

      Nov 30, 2017

      Too Much Seinfeld
      8 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      A Dual Reckoning

      Mar 1, 2024

      A Dual Reckoning
      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      A Dual Reckoning

      Mar 2, 2024

      A Dual Reckoning
      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Past Compensation

      Jul 29, 2019

      Past Compensation
      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Lost And Found

      Dec 5, 2021

      Lost And Found
      9 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      DEFINING Memories

      Aug 5, 2021

      DEFINING Memories
      7 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Book Extract

      Jan 20, 2020

      My year off was also interesting, in that I didn’t feel any less loved, or cherished, or wanted. Why? Because my life is already rich with soulmates, and I got the chance to behold that. You don’t have to shag someone for them to be a soulmate. We do

      7 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      The Heavy Load

      Dec 31, 2018

      The Heavy Load
      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Cycles

      Nov 10, 2022

      His online profile was promising: good hair, straight teeth, college degree. And he was nice-looking too, in his photo anyway, standing on a clifftop with the sun rising over his welldefined, muscular shoulder. He was attractive enough, the kind of u

      18 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      My Best Friend

      Oct 1, 2020

      My Best Friend
      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      A Love Letter To My Queer Female Friends

      Apr 25, 2021

      I’m a sociable person. I have huge amounts of love for the people in my life; the ones I’ve known forever, the ones I’ve met this year, the ones I turn to for advice, the ones who lead me astray. The list goes on. Before corona (BC), it wasn’t unusua

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Sugar Daddy

      Dec 17, 2021

      MY 18-year marriage would not inspire a classic love story. We spent long periods apart. He was a private chef for a Swiss family, a job that required him to work abroad for months at a time. The family travelled frequently and he accompanied them. W

      7 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      ‘We Are Bridges’: Featured Nonfiction from Cassandra Lane

      Apr 20, 2021

      Lane's memoir, which won the 2020 Louise Meriwether First Book Prize, explores the author's ancestral history in order to give her future child a family history. The post ‘We Are Bridges’: Featured Nonfiction from Cassandra Lane appeared first on The

      8 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Winning Letter

      Oct 21, 2022

      My BFF and I met in Standard 2 and formed an instant and lifelong bond. Although we haven’t seen one another in almost five decades, after she departed South Africa for foreign shores we were constantly in touch. My husband and I were extremely fortu

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Powder Paint And Pride

      Jun 28, 2021

      Powder Paint And Pride
      9 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      The Sound And Smell Of Poison

      Nov 1, 2019

      The Sound And Smell Of Poison
      10 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Olly Murs

      Apr 22, 2024

      Olly Murs
      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Averted Vision

      Sep 1, 2022

      Averted Vision
      25 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Love Story

      Feb 4, 2023

      Love Story
      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      I Was A Bad Lesbian

      Dec 23, 2022

      I’ve always been a bad lesbian.To be fair, I missed orientation. Athletic lesbians got inducted in high school. They didn’t think to collect the femmes in drama club, so I got left behind. It wasn’t until I saw a handsome black and white photo of k.d

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      First Person Singular

      Dec 1, 2023

      First Person Singular
      17 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      My #MeToo

      Jul 17, 2020

      My #MeToo
      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Weird Science

      Apr 20, 2020

      Weird Science
      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Love, Lust, and More

      Feb 12, 2020

      Fleetwood Mac was singing She is dancing away from you now, and I squirmed in my seat. Kabir was rubbing my thigh as he drove, a gesture I once thought was reserved for me. Bah! I also used to think he only took naked selfies in bed with me, but then

      11 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Alan Cumming

      Nov 1, 2021

      Alan Cumming
      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      The Hardest Heartbreak

      Aug 23, 2022

      It’s been 40 years since Catherine and I started out as young actresses at drama school. Sharing the same silly sense of humour, we had so much fun, always trying to outdo each other with the next prank. Once, I sellotaped over the eyes of her mask,

      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      How We Drink Now

      May 29, 2020

      How We Drink Now
      12 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Loving & Leaving

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Loving & Leaving - Jack Lucci

      OLIVE

      The Merchants was a large restaurant with an indoor balcony running along the roofline. Along the balcony, there was enough space for a table with two chairs and a waiter to take orders. The tables were buttoned up against a brick wall, and the lighting below was ambient, leaving a soft light for the balcony above. Diners could overlook the kitchen, where they could observe the operations from a bird’s-eye view. There was never a shortage of corner spoken loudly by the staff to alert others around blind corners. The Merchants was a counter service restaurant, where orders were taken by a cashier, and a numbered placard, corresponding to the order number, was placed on the table. The table markers were playing cards, and when I was a kid, I always hoped for an ace of spades. The Merchants shut down for a few years, and another restaurant rented the space. Olive was essentially the same, Mediterranean, or at least tried to be. I applied for a position as I became increasingly aware that a gig in the restaurant industry would fit me properly. Somewhat of a wild animal, I rarely stayed inside my cage.

      I was living as I would continue to live for many years. I shared an apartment with a friend, Marco. We drank and smoked more nights than we didn’t, as we were slowly coming into our own. We both held gigs at rather prominent eateries downtown, and in southeastern Washington, wine flows like water; one can expect to be paid in it. Marco is someone I think I’d kill for. Many can recall a time when life was ordinary, easy to navigate, and yet, still, just over the horizon, problems existed and fit a frame that slowly expanded. The easiest part of living is to live; accepting it is another thing. Marco and I were in our early twenties, with a true love for each other. We had met at some age, somewhere, and no matter the particulars, we were brothers. We used to fight and bicker like children, but, after all, we were. When I was too drunk to stand, Marco held me up by my armpits while I pissed in the grass. Once, I watched him fall down a flight of stairs and pop up like he meant to do it. We had a pet, an iguana; we took care of the little bastard, but he hated us. We named him Lizard Man, and he’s probably dead by now. We gave Lizard Man to some reptile freak we found on Craigslist, but I didn’t trust him. Marco was my most encouraging drinking partner, my voice of drunken blunder. Marco’s parents brought him here from Mexico when he was one year old, and I’m glad they did. He claimed he could drink a bottle of El Jimador and not be hungover the next morning, and most of the time, he wasn’t. I love Mexican culture, especially the women. The food and booze are world-class, and they are all fantastic dancers.

      There is something about choosing one’s family, being accepted while simultaneously accepting in the process. One of the more surprising aspects of growing up is knowing love for a man and love for a woman. Both sexes are vastly different, and each require a different set of necessities. I can’t imagine I am any good with women, as I tend to keep a brotherly sort of love toward them. I forget to buy them gifts or fail to read them well long-term. Apparently, I am terrible at reading what a woman wants. For the first few weeks after meeting, I can predict them successfully, but by the time the excitement is over, I begin to trail off—an awfully disastrous nature that never seems to end well.

      I met Kat on my first day at Olive. I was immediately taken. I hadn’t laid eyes on such a specimen. I knew I had to have her. It was a jolt, all at once—I knew it. She either felt it too, or she would come to feel that same emotion eventually. A month in, I had her. Kat was gentle and held few judgments. She was easily swayed by those around her and seemed yet to know exactly who she was. Not an uncommon trait, it seems to be quite prevalent among those more docile. Something about her twisted me; I needed to know her. She was slowly finding herself, and I enjoyed discovering it with her. Kat was in the tail end of a long-term relationship before we met, and I think she was more needy than she was prepared to reenter the dating world. Like most things in life, it all comes down to timing, and unfortunately, I am far from punctual. Kat and I shared nights in my apartment, staring out the French windows, talking, and lying naked in the shadows cast by lamplight. She kissed me like she wanted to be guided, like she wanted to be told what to do. Eventually, she began to bore me; I lost interest. Such is my inclination that I began to take her for granted like she was a work buddy who I fucked sometimes.

      When I was a kid, my parents took me to Las Vegas, and my father showed me the pit where he worked as a craps dealer in the 1980s. The buildup of going to a new place had me excited, and when we arrived, it was breathtaking. My eyes shot open at all the lights and the pornography littered in the streets, the smell of cigarettes in the casinos, and the life my dad once lived. After a day, I became bored and wanted to leave. Interested in the flash no longer, I stared over the strip from Excalibur, longing to see New York City.

      Weeks after I began working at Olive, I was introduced to a new hire, Claire. I was tasked with showing her the ropes and the duties pertaining to a shift. I was to show her the gears that grind. Claire was petite with large eyes. Her eyes were disproportionate to her delicate frame, yet they somehow fit perfectly on her face. Claire attended Whitman College and was studying psychology or maybe sociology—I can’t quite remember. She was sharp as a blade and shined like stainless steel. Hailing from Northern California, she had a sunny disposition. She wore a mischievous grin that seldom left her face. Her hair was light brown, her eyes matching in hue.

      We got along fine. I felt comfortable with her. She was popular among her peers, as she wore her heart on her sleeve. We discovered that we lived in the same building; I was on the third floor, and she was on the fifth. Slowly but steadily, we became good friends. I began to confide in her. She never appeared bored or discontent. It was as if she knew, under the surface, there was a person she longed to see. She was willing to hear me and remained open to listening, always. I still feel as though she cares about me, even after all this time. She extended herself to my never-ending turbulence, the unceasing inconsistency. I was open with her and felt a real connection.

      I never lied to Claire, as I would hate to betray her. We were a team no matter how far apart our hearts may have been. Claire was dating a guy from Whitman, and I only hoped he was good to her. I was chasing Kat who already had a home. She went back to her ex as so many others do. I didn’t mind much since I had an out. Claire shared everything about herself and spoke unencumbered. I could listen to her for hours; the sound of her voice was my favorite song. I could tell by her smile that she was happy, and that, in turn, made me happy. I love Claire’s smile—pure and free of malice. I used to put on a sort of performance, an informal song and dance. I only wanted to see a smile spread across her face.

      I made some other friends and connections. I met those who party, and by party, I mean partake. Cocaine is like a centipede. Once on it, one has one hundred legs. Feel it crawl inside your face. Feel it drip down toward your belly. There is a certain camaraderie that connects drug users. It has something to do with shared desires or goals. I had a partner in crime, Jon. He liked painkillers more

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1