damn boys

How can you miss someone you don't even know? How can you miss something you never had?

i'm so fucked up inside.

a week ago, i spent a glorious 24 hours with a friend of a friend, a guy 3 years younger than me who i'd never met and never saw coming. i met this guy with absolutely no expectations whatsoever, no preconceived notions, no ideas of what could or should or would happen. i didn't even know i was going to meet him until about 15 minutes before i did; even then, i thought nothing of hanging out with n AND his roommate, instead of just n. i guess i probably thought that any friend of n's must be worth knowing, and that we'd have fun, but that was it. i wasn't looking for any sort of relationship past that day - romantic or otherwise. i thought i'd meet this kid, spend time with him, forget him. that's it. a new single serving friend, to borrow a term from fight club.

so n and i meet up with s, introductions are made. nice looking kid, friendly right of the bat, but it still didn't cross my mind that he might be worth knowing as anything other than n's roommate. sometime during lunch or shortly after, i realized i was having a lot of fun with the two boys, and i was glad n had invited s along. sometime after that, i noticed how cute s is. about the time we hit the m&m store, it occurred to me that s had a great sense of humor and i was seriously digging how goofy he was being. i also was becoming more and more aware of the fact i wanted him to like me. when we got to virgin megastore, i made a note of his movie preferences without even realizing why i was doing it, and somewhere in that store it stopped being each of us hanging out with n and started being s and i hanging out with each other.

... and off we went to sit in line for jersey boys standing room only tickets. for 3 hours. insert dozens of dirty jokes and massive amounts of flirtation, progressively moving farther and farther away from safe and facetious and closer to dangerous-could-this-be-serious territory. s makes a joke and touches my leg. a couple of minutes later, i do the same to him. this happens a few more times, more frequently and with less cause. he puts his arm around me as a joke, leaves it there longer than necessary. i wrap my arms around his waist, stand there as he returns my embrace, feeling totally comfortable and at ease. find more excuses to touch him and be touched. heart pounding, pulse racing, mind going crazy trying to figure out what's happening, but hoping it never stops. completely turned on. we walk arm in arm to a pizza place for dinner, continue our flirtation. go back to the theatre for the show, wait while n uses the bathroom with our arms around each other, like we've been a couple for years. hold hands during the entire show, lightly rubbing each other's knees and wrists and hands and knuckles with our thumbs and fingers. n notices, gives me a questioning look; all i can do is shrug. this is all new to me, too. i wasn't expecting to like this roommate of his, certainly not like this. every nerve in my body is on alert, completely aroused and confused and excited and terrified and exhilarated. arm in arm once again as we leave the theatre, walk to starbucks, walk to mcdonalds, hail a cab to c's apartment. hold hands in the cab. then comes an hour or so of hanging out with c, n, and s, with no real contact whatsoever. s on the chair, me on the floor barely touching his leg. fast forward to bedtime. n announces he'll be sleeping in one bedroom, c will be sleeping in another, and s and i are to share a pull out couch bed in the living room.

things are about to get waaaaaaaaay interesting, i think.

until s collapses on his stomach, face pointing away from me, claiming exhaustion. i lay on my side, staring at him, completely randy for him and wondering what the hell is going on. he adjusts a little, and our feet are touching, intertwining. a couple minutes pass, he adjusts again, and our hands touch. fingers lace. lightly rub against each other. still, he's facing away from me. an eternity goes by before he finally flips over. i don't waste a lot of time... i don't know if i could have lasted much longer without exploding.

i kiss him.

he kisses me back.

we're kissing, making out, hands roaming, tongues touching, i'm on top of him, he's on top of me, and we're a sweaty mess of tangled limbs. he's gentle, respectful, careful - like he doesn't want to push me too far, like he's afraid of crossing a line, like he's young and fresh and unsure and innocent... but not too innocent. he's sweet and wonderful, but he wants me, that much is clear. we make jokes, laugh at times. it's comfortable, it's tentative, it's completely new but somehow natural. we finish... well, he finishes. we collapse on the bed, wrap our arms around each other, whisper who knows what. search for our shirts. take turns using the restroom. come back to bed, entangle ourselves once again. talk some more, decide to keep the whole thing a secret from n. spoon, cuddle, remain intertwined until we wake up and i feel the need to kiss him again. so i do. and it begins all over, the kissing and the touching and the pressing and the grinding and the laughing and the caressing, until we hear a noise and realize n's awake. we stop. we spoon and pretend to sleep while we both try to calm ourselves down. we get up, jump on n's bed, become a friendly trio once again. n shoots both of us questioning looks, to which we shake our heads no, and we go about our business for the day. we walk arm in arm, we put our arms around each other, we embrace like we've been doing it our whole lives. we joke, we laugh, we talk... we act like an us.

and then he leaves.

and i can't stop thinking about this boy who lives hundreds of miles away. so i facebook him when i get home. less than an hour later, he answers me with both a message and a wall post. so i reply. as does he. one week and 25 messages later, i'm going out of my mind trying to get him out of my head and trying to figure out how the hell he feels about me. wondering if it's worth going for. wondering if he feels the same way. wondering if this is something new for him. wondering if i'm on his mind. wondering what he's doing, where he is, who he's with, if he's talked about me.

i'm going crazy over this boy i barely know.

and i don't know what to do about it.

there's more, so much more i could write... about him, about the situation, about how i feel, about how different it felt to be with him... about the other boy i'm wondering about, also hundreds of miles away and unsure of, but in a completely different way... stupid boys.

i want to talk to s, to see him, to spend time with him, to explore this- this thing we started last week. i don't want to believe that all i get with him is 24 hours of almost-coupledom. i want to believe we have a chance. i want to believe something more could, can, come of all this. i want to believe that i'm not crazy for feeling this way.

i want that 24 hours of being a couple to last forever.

oh fuck.

i had sex.

me.

23 years old, after years and years of saying no and being determined to at least wait for the right person/time/circumstance/whathaveyou, little old dumbass me goes and pops her cherry with a random british guy in cancun. what the fuck. not only that, i somehow neglect to make sure he wears a condom. i can't believe i was so unbelievably stupid.

i'm not sure i regret the sex - it had to happen sometime, after all, and it's kind of a good story - but i absolutely hate myself for having unprotected sex. it's bad enough that i feel like a hypocrite for not practicing what i've been preaching all this time... you know, doing the one thing i said i didn't want to do on my first time... but now i've done one of the things i find to be the most irresponsible and incredibly stupid. the last thing i want to do is have a bastard british baby belonging to some guy whose last name i don't even know.

ech.

i don't even want to type anymore. i thought it would be good to get it all out, but i'm pretty sure it's all been hashed out from here to infinity. i'm just freaking myself out even more and exhausting my overactive imagination (in a bad way) by writing this. nothing's coming out the way i want it to, and i'm not sure my friends understand what i'm trying to say - lord knows they surprised me, seeing as how kb was totally chill and jmix flipped a little - i want to tell everyone what happened, but i don't want anyone to know, i'm totally fine with it one minute and totally bugging the next, i'm not worried and then i'm terrified... i'm a fucking rollercoaster.

most of the time i can't even believe it. i have to keep repeating to myself, i had sex. i'm not a virgin anymore. i. had. sex.


oh, and i'm off to planned parenthood tomorrow for the morning after pill... let's hope to god they're not lying when they say it can be taken up to 120 hours after the unprotected sex.


[please, God, let them be telling the truth]

Love this

This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
Then all the Styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some worms
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again
And on the radio
We heard November Rain
The solo's real long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
Then try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some -
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
And on the radio
You'll hear November Rain
That solo's awful long
But it's a nice refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio uh-oh
On the radio uh-oh

and so it begins...

Well, folks, i do believe this is attempt #3 at writing a blog. First was the ever-popular LiveJournal, the fad that was sweeping the nation at that point in my life. I kept up with that one pretty faithfully - I guess it helped that a huge number of my friends also belonged to the LJ community, and we interacted a lot. That, of course, died out after awhile, and because of the non-stop pleading of a certain Miss B, I created a Xanga account a few years later. Naturally, that failed as well, as did my attempt at MySpace. I'm still a loyal fan of Facebook, but I don't know why that's even worth mentioning, since that lovely online community is not a blog at all, but an internet stalking device that sucks out your soul and claims it for its own. The point is, here I am, on January 10, 2008, creating yet another blog with all intents and purposes of following through. Perhaps the most attractive quality of this blog, as opposed to the others I've had, is that nobody knows about it. I might decide to tell someone - and I might not. I'm hoping that this blogger account will have the same function of a handwritten journal, but with the added perks of archives, search options, and the ability to type faster than I scrawl. So far, I've avoided thinking about what this will do to my determination to keep a handwritten journal... somehow I've managed to convince myself that I'll be able to keep them both up adequately.

Whatever happens - whether I post several times a day or drop this in a week - I seriously like the idea of anonymously rambling without fear of reprisal or giving offense. I can tell stories my friends might find boring or repetitive, or vent my frustration about whatever I want. My entries most likely will be utterly truthful, but if I choose to embellish, exaggerate, edit, or create my tales from scratch, it doesn't matter in the slightest. I can be me, I can be you, I can be anyone I want to be. It's rather liberating, even if nobody reads this. Ever. Like I said, I haven't decided if I'll share this with anyone I know. So, if you're reading this, you're probably a complete and total stranger... or maybe you're not. Maybe we're friends, or acquaintances, or maybe you've seen me on the street. Maybe we've met a few times, or a thousand; maybe we've spent an hour together, or maybe we've spent a night together. Who knows? Maybe we haven't met yet, but we're destined to become friends, or even lovers. The possibilities are endless...


and i dig that.