(no subject)
Sophie came from Seattle and was the type of girl I had always wanted to sleep with. She had that alternative thing going for her which meant that she wore a lot of flannel and didn’t believe in a bra. Her body was slim like a dancer through recreational drug use and an addiction to Belmont, King sized, regulars. When she spoke her voice had a desperation in it. Everything she said seemed as if it was insurmountably important, even if she was just asking for a cup of coffee. I was introduced to her through a classmate of mine. We were both attending a theatre program at the time, and while neither of us were old enough to have experienced the grunge movement, we were fascinated by it byproducts. While Sophie was only a few years older than either of us it was easy to tell that she was one of those byproducts.
I remember my first conversation with her. We talked about the lighting on a play she was doing tech for, and some petty gossip surrounding mutual acquaintances. The conversation turned to romance and she went on in length about a difficult breakup that had happened a few months back. I told her the embarrassing story of my first kiss, and about the time in grade school when the girl I had a crush on pushed me off the monkey bars. I had to get four stitches to close up my forehead. We later exchanged numbers and began to flirt via text message.
I don’t remember a whole lot about the night that it happened. I had drank too much before we even got to the bar. I was with a group of people and had asked Sophie to meet us sometime around midnight. We got a round of beers before one of my roommates was escorted out for falling asleep on our table. We got another round of beers to lament our friends absence. The rest of it is a bit hazy. She showed up late and the group of us made our way to the dance floor. The DJ played a collection of eighties tracks that all of us pretended to like for the sake of a good time. I’m told that I kissed her but I can’t recall it. The next thing I am certain of is waking up in my bed with a pounding headache and the taste of stale alcohol in my mouth. Sophie was sprawled out beside me wearing only her tights and quietly snoring. I thought for awhile and tried to piece together if we had had sex or not, then spent the next fifteen minutes or so committing her half naked body to memory.
For me sex has never really been about the physical act. It can feel nice but most of the time I’m left wondering what the point was. What I like about being intimate is the intimacy. I like knowing the little things about people that aren’t obvious to everyone. I like the blemishes, and the birthmarks, and the way a persons face looks when you kiss them on the neck. I’ve always wanted to be able to share myself with someone, and sex is the closest thing I’ve gotten to that, but then I cum and it’s all over.
She woke up sometime later. I pretended not to be staring as she propped herself up on a pillow. We chatted for awhile about our love for indie rock and cuddled as the morning slipped into the afternoon. I started to convince myself that there might actually be something to this when I heard a chorus of laughter coming from down the hall. Sophie looked up and smiled nervously. She said that she thought she knew what they were laughing about.
During the middle of the night in a sleepy, drunken, stupor Sophie stumbled from my bed into the hall in hopes of finding a bathroom. She climbed the stairs and opened a door to what was not a bathroom at all, but a bedroom occupied by my friend Adrienne. Undaunted by another presence in the room or the fact that there was no toilet to be found, Sophie took a seat on the computer chair, pulled down her kit, and proceeded to piss all over the place. She came to when Adrienne asked what exactly it is she was doing, but the damage had been done. The chair had been covered in urine and any chance of saving face had been ruined by the fact that she was sitting mostly undressed in front of a stranger covered in her own pee. None the less, playing it cool she cooed Adrienne back to sleep and spent the next hour or so attempting to wash the chair’s pillow covering in first our kitchen sink, and later the bathtub. Inexplicably rather than quietly directing herself home, she decided her best course of action was to return to my bedroom and curl up beside me. I think all in all that made me like her more.
That was it, more or less. I caught shit from my roommates until eventually I moved out when our partying shifted from being fun to self destructive. Sophie didn’t seem daunted by the situation the day of. We didn’t kiss goodbye, but we did hug each other, and she grabbed my ass on her way out. I thought the whole thing over and decided I wanted to see her again, but when I called she said she wasn’t up for it. She said that I was a sweet guy but I’d marked a low point in her life and she didn’t want to be reminded of the whole thing. Last I heard she moved back home and has been working at some sort of repair shop. Myself? I’ve been drinking a lot lately. It seems I’ve got a lot of these stories.
I remember my first conversation with her. We talked about the lighting on a play she was doing tech for, and some petty gossip surrounding mutual acquaintances. The conversation turned to romance and she went on in length about a difficult breakup that had happened a few months back. I told her the embarrassing story of my first kiss, and about the time in grade school when the girl I had a crush on pushed me off the monkey bars. I had to get four stitches to close up my forehead. We later exchanged numbers and began to flirt via text message.
I don’t remember a whole lot about the night that it happened. I had drank too much before we even got to the bar. I was with a group of people and had asked Sophie to meet us sometime around midnight. We got a round of beers before one of my roommates was escorted out for falling asleep on our table. We got another round of beers to lament our friends absence. The rest of it is a bit hazy. She showed up late and the group of us made our way to the dance floor. The DJ played a collection of eighties tracks that all of us pretended to like for the sake of a good time. I’m told that I kissed her but I can’t recall it. The next thing I am certain of is waking up in my bed with a pounding headache and the taste of stale alcohol in my mouth. Sophie was sprawled out beside me wearing only her tights and quietly snoring. I thought for awhile and tried to piece together if we had had sex or not, then spent the next fifteen minutes or so committing her half naked body to memory.
For me sex has never really been about the physical act. It can feel nice but most of the time I’m left wondering what the point was. What I like about being intimate is the intimacy. I like knowing the little things about people that aren’t obvious to everyone. I like the blemishes, and the birthmarks, and the way a persons face looks when you kiss them on the neck. I’ve always wanted to be able to share myself with someone, and sex is the closest thing I’ve gotten to that, but then I cum and it’s all over.
She woke up sometime later. I pretended not to be staring as she propped herself up on a pillow. We chatted for awhile about our love for indie rock and cuddled as the morning slipped into the afternoon. I started to convince myself that there might actually be something to this when I heard a chorus of laughter coming from down the hall. Sophie looked up and smiled nervously. She said that she thought she knew what they were laughing about.
During the middle of the night in a sleepy, drunken, stupor Sophie stumbled from my bed into the hall in hopes of finding a bathroom. She climbed the stairs and opened a door to what was not a bathroom at all, but a bedroom occupied by my friend Adrienne. Undaunted by another presence in the room or the fact that there was no toilet to be found, Sophie took a seat on the computer chair, pulled down her kit, and proceeded to piss all over the place. She came to when Adrienne asked what exactly it is she was doing, but the damage had been done. The chair had been covered in urine and any chance of saving face had been ruined by the fact that she was sitting mostly undressed in front of a stranger covered in her own pee. None the less, playing it cool she cooed Adrienne back to sleep and spent the next hour or so attempting to wash the chair’s pillow covering in first our kitchen sink, and later the bathtub. Inexplicably rather than quietly directing herself home, she decided her best course of action was to return to my bedroom and curl up beside me. I think all in all that made me like her more.
That was it, more or less. I caught shit from my roommates until eventually I moved out when our partying shifted from being fun to self destructive. Sophie didn’t seem daunted by the situation the day of. We didn’t kiss goodbye, but we did hug each other, and she grabbed my ass on her way out. I thought the whole thing over and decided I wanted to see her again, but when I called she said she wasn’t up for it. She said that I was a sweet guy but I’d marked a low point in her life and she didn’t want to be reminded of the whole thing. Last I heard she moved back home and has been working at some sort of repair shop. Myself? I’ve been drinking a lot lately. It seems I’ve got a lot of these stories.