It's supposed to be fun. When you first start seeing someone, there inside you is a chemist's delight, cascades of reactions upon reactions, leaving you giddy, good, and god-damned spiritual. But when your or his personal life gets in the way, mostly his, really—well, what do they say?—that's a perfect recipe for failure. To fail before anything starts just sucks!
I hate being here. Granted my lack of experience regarding the matters of the groin and a little bit of the heart, precludes me from being objective. Especially since I'm in the thick of it. But still. I know I should just count my loses and just move on. But why is it so hard to say good bye. And why is it so hard to convince myself to say, "step forward, don't look back?" I can relate to Lot's wife!
It's so easy for other guys to fuck and be done with it. Why can't I? I tell myself that sex can be devoid of any emotional tie, but I can't help myself weaving a thread, however thin it is, that binds me to him.
It was that one night...
He has on the cutest grin on his face. "I'm a bit drunk," he says. And like him, my face is flushed. I blame the Cosmo and my infatuation. One moment I'm giggling at a Tivo-ed episode of "Little Bush" with him, then the next he has his tongue down my throat. Just as quick, I'm off the couch and on his bed naked. "What do you want?" he coos and asks it again and again, one pleasurable moment after another. He wants to give me what I want. It's a pleasure I can get lost in.
After we said our goodbyes the next morning, he texts me to ask me how I was and to tell me that the night we spent was hot. We stay in touch and we talk about hanging out again. But whenever we try, the plans get rearranged. If the Universe wasn't governed by the all random Chance, I'd swear it was warning me, as Kelly Clarkson advised, to walk away.
I may have been his trick and he may have wanted to play with me again...at his convenience. You know what, I was. I was his trick. I need to consider him mine. File him away in my memory.
It's supposed to be fun. But now it's not. And I feel like if I dwell any longer, I'll turn into a pillar of salt.
I feel like boozing!
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