Monday, October 6, 2008

public display of affection.

I'm sorry I was too concerned with Gary Coleman to enjoy your embrace last night. You see, I like you and that makes me oh-so-vulnerable to all of your actions. Really I wanted to snake myself around you and have you unbutton my dress. I've put up this tough front like I don't care, but I do. After all, like makes me do crazy things, like sneak into the Times building and make up excuses about why I'm in the mail room at 1 a.m. Or try extra hard to make a symmetrical heart on your latte.

Sometimes I lose it when you're around. When you get dressed in the morning, oh my. I don't think you know how goddamn handsome you look while I'm there being lazy. I could get up easily, but I just like watching you from your bed and pretending I'm tired just so I can. After all, nerves make me do crazy things, like say no to tea you make in the morning. Or ramble about nonsensical things when you're trying to fall asleep. I don't mean to keep you awake, but could you blame me for just wanting more time with you?

I'm just terrified of what you could possibly do to me. It's happened far too much. I've always gave more and more and more and more and taken nothing while giving everything to all the boys before you. You're not even a boy.

So please forgive my actions that I don't even know how to explain. Most of the time all I want to do is kiss your mouth and feel your breath on my neck, but I get so nervous. Don't ask me why; I can't explain my occasional lack of confidence with you. After all, lust makes me do crazy things, like choose the diner with a former crush even though I really could only afford the shitty Taco Bell outside the hotel. Or take someone back to Philadelphia who didn't even really need a ride in the first place.

Call it a really fucked up test, but nothing happened with either of them. One put his arm around my waist during Low. The other tried on the dance floor, and I pushed him right away. He tried again outside the record store, but I left him on South Street and eventually made it up back north where I knew I'd see you later that night. Now I just wonder if me resisting temptation matters to you at all. Or the fact that I left behind Low just to call you and tell you how cute you are and that none of those nerdy indie rocker boys held a candle. You were lying down, you said. I was kind of drunk, but it didn't mean it wasn't the truth.

Everything I say is. Do you trust me? You should.


My Idea of Fun said...

whoever you are, i love your writing. it's so affluent and flowing, yet its buoyancy is totally anchored to this stern, almost-confrontational sincerity. there's a real thrust in this piece. the antagonist is someone you care about and you seem immediately defensive about having such strong feelings for him. it's very good. i really like it a lot.

- E.T.

My Idea of Fun said...

Don't be so afraid. Trust what you feel. You wouldn't if it wasn't real!

My Idea of Fun said...

I wish someone felt like this about me.