(no subject)
I went to his place for dinner: he met me in front of the dorms and we walked to his apartment. He served left overs from Thanksgiving. Mashed potatoes, cooked vegetables, his special cranberry relish. He also made some ravioli to fill in for the missing entree. Beer was our libation.
We had dinner and then he suggested we go to my room to watch a film I had mentioned. I said "Sure. It's about the gay British aristocracy in the 1930's" and we left. In the silence we found ourselves, I could not bear the slight graze of his knee on mine.
I am such an inexperienced lover and know little of the courtship that happens between grown men. I am most familiar with that which occurs between young men with little maturity and guidance. Darkness is all it is. I imagined a brighter place wherein the adult love should dwell. "I don't mean to be too forward, but it is okay that we're sitting in silence?" This was my rallying cry of rebellion; my stand for righteousness; my transition into adulthood.
I, of course, meant "Do you wanna make out or what?" but had not the confidence to say it so outright. With a giggle he replied "I guess so, I don't know." I was satisfactorily expressed. I made the excuse "I'm not a usually outspoken person so..." (I don't have a habit of finishing my sentences when I never really had an end to them).
After a sufficient amount of time passed and my heart palpitations subsided enough for my brain to, once again, begin functioning, I rekindled some small talk. I felt more easily sociable now that I had, at this point, expressed my sincere concern for his boredom/sexual desires. It seemed my worries were assuaged.
After the film we talked about music and looked at my Amy Sedaris hospitality book. Good laughs, of course.
We've shared a lot about our families and personal histories. We made some connections to the present this time but it's a slow journey for the meek. One point of note, never serve a caffeinated beverage after dinner unless there is a restroom nearby or you've established a mutual acceptance of flatulence. I personally don't care but I do think it's funny. I was deathly afraid of being inappropriate because he farted at least 2 or 3 times! It vibrated my bed (we sit on my bed as I've no suitable chairs).
In this case, I should say I most assuredly over analyzed the evening's activities. It was a small upset but I know now that I do not have to be as proactive as observing friends might suggest (only from their own frustrations, I think). I realize I can be easy about it. There's no rush and I can enjoy it.
After the film and the talking and laughing, I walked him back to his apartment. We ran into a friend of his who commondered our time in a grief-stricken vocal display for about 2 minutes. He gently touched my shoulder, "C'mon" was his beckon. I followed. In that moment, I felt closer to him than when we're alone. I thanked him for the wonderful dinner, "it was delicious." We got to his door and engaged in a long and hearty hug. "Have a good evening" said I. "You too", and he let me go. There was a moment when I thought we might've kissed but it passed so subtly I couldn't be sure and I made no response. He smiled. "Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow" he called as I began to turn away. I quickly faced him again. "If there's ever a free moment" and I began to walk again. "Be safe" was his final decree of the evening. I couldn't think whether or not I should respond. I did nothing about it but turned the corner.
My whole body nearly collapsed. I feel, when I leave his door, that there were so many opportunities not taken. I've considered heavily the possibility of retreiving at least one by running up after he's closed the door and, in a way only the most romantic films can show, knocking until he opens up and firmly grasping his face and pressing it on mine. A stamp of approval it would be. A declaration of such an official nature that we were finally more than just friends, more than just "hanging out".
Our physical addresses are quite mild. I can't tell, I suppose, if he wants that or not. I wonder what pressures, if any, his friends might be putting him under. I certainly feel pressures from my friends to bring this to the "next level". However, my totaly inexperience in formal relationships does not help my efforts. I don't know if he cares.
OH-KAY. Time to let it go and do works.
We had dinner and then he suggested we go to my room to watch a film I had mentioned. I said "Sure. It's about the gay British aristocracy in the 1930's" and we left. In the silence we found ourselves, I could not bear the slight graze of his knee on mine.
I am such an inexperienced lover and know little of the courtship that happens between grown men. I am most familiar with that which occurs between young men with little maturity and guidance. Darkness is all it is. I imagined a brighter place wherein the adult love should dwell. "I don't mean to be too forward, but it is okay that we're sitting in silence?" This was my rallying cry of rebellion; my stand for righteousness; my transition into adulthood.
I, of course, meant "Do you wanna make out or what?" but had not the confidence to say it so outright. With a giggle he replied "I guess so, I don't know." I was satisfactorily expressed. I made the excuse "I'm not a usually outspoken person so..." (I don't have a habit of finishing my sentences when I never really had an end to them).
After a sufficient amount of time passed and my heart palpitations subsided enough for my brain to, once again, begin functioning, I rekindled some small talk. I felt more easily sociable now that I had, at this point, expressed my sincere concern for his boredom/sexual desires. It seemed my worries were assuaged.
After the film we talked about music and looked at my Amy Sedaris hospitality book. Good laughs, of course.
We've shared a lot about our families and personal histories. We made some connections to the present this time but it's a slow journey for the meek. One point of note, never serve a caffeinated beverage after dinner unless there is a restroom nearby or you've established a mutual acceptance of flatulence. I personally don't care but I do think it's funny. I was deathly afraid of being inappropriate because he farted at least 2 or 3 times! It vibrated my bed (we sit on my bed as I've no suitable chairs).
In this case, I should say I most assuredly over analyzed the evening's activities. It was a small upset but I know now that I do not have to be as proactive as observing friends might suggest (only from their own frustrations, I think). I realize I can be easy about it. There's no rush and I can enjoy it.
After the film and the talking and laughing, I walked him back to his apartment. We ran into a friend of his who commondered our time in a grief-stricken vocal display for about 2 minutes. He gently touched my shoulder, "C'mon" was his beckon. I followed. In that moment, I felt closer to him than when we're alone. I thanked him for the wonderful dinner, "it was delicious." We got to his door and engaged in a long and hearty hug. "Have a good evening" said I. "You too", and he let me go. There was a moment when I thought we might've kissed but it passed so subtly I couldn't be sure and I made no response. He smiled. "Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow" he called as I began to turn away. I quickly faced him again. "If there's ever a free moment" and I began to walk again. "Be safe" was his final decree of the evening. I couldn't think whether or not I should respond. I did nothing about it but turned the corner.
My whole body nearly collapsed. I feel, when I leave his door, that there were so many opportunities not taken. I've considered heavily the possibility of retreiving at least one by running up after he's closed the door and, in a way only the most romantic films can show, knocking until he opens up and firmly grasping his face and pressing it on mine. A stamp of approval it would be. A declaration of such an official nature that we were finally more than just friends, more than just "hanging out".
Our physical addresses are quite mild. I can't tell, I suppose, if he wants that or not. I wonder what pressures, if any, his friends might be putting him under. I certainly feel pressures from my friends to bring this to the "next level". However, my totaly inexperience in formal relationships does not help my efforts. I don't know if he cares.
OH-KAY. Time to let it go and do works.