two drag queens having sexual relations
one question: how long can i keep this up?
well, make that two: do i even want to?
i think the thing is that i want to want to but i'm not sure if i want to.
i've fallen in love with the idea of you, so interesting, so against the grain (everybody thinks it's wrong to cheat; those who don't just confuse me because i feel that if i was really on the same level as they are on the subject i would feel as though they were kindred spirits, but i never do; conversing about it with them makes me feel lost, as apposed to found.)
i like some aspects of you as an actual person: of course you are very good looking and there is some semblance of sexual chemistry between us, but mostly i like how you are as nervous and jumpy as i am (although i think maybe that's the thing that lends itself to the overwhelming sense of doom i feel whenever i think about this, which is often.)
i also like how you are a bit androgynous, which is how i feel at times, too. like you fill in the blanks in my femininity, and i in your masculinity (although shit who knows, you probably don't feel this way about me because i am more like an object than anything else and because i can never really speak on anything of consequence with you - it might shatter the illusion.)
i don't like, however, how this new avenue of exploration of sexuality, originally based solely on the need to be distracted from depression, has become an intellectual mine-field that causes intense swings in my behavior -- from more social than ever before to completely locked in the room of my own mind, from happy and excited and looking forward to waking up on wednesday morning to wishing i could stay in bed all day long on monday and just think about you, my new favorite and least favorite pass time.
i think perhaps my infatuation with you is symptomatic depression; it makes no sense, but you are a really great distraction when you are around and when you're not, my need to be distracted by you at all times causes bouts of stress and mindlessness. especially after what happened last week.
that case in particular is extremely problematic. all summer i think about it, it is my dream, which i fear never will be realized. and then it is, but in such robotic and unnatural motions (you are strapped for time and, more importantly, trying not to get too close, that much is obvious), and in such an unusual and inappropriate setting, while i'm trying to actually have a conversation with you, that i'm all nervous and detached and end up thinking about my idea of the act rather than the act itself, and lucy from peanuts is staring at me and i can't really commit to it. in short, it doesn't work out like we'd hoped. the most nerve-wracking part is, i'm not sure if you even noticed. if you did, it wasn't obvious. i think maybe if you had, we could have talked about it and maybe it would have been better.
i am trying this thing, no regrets. so i guess next time i see you, which hopefully will be tomorrow but really, who knows, i will talk about it with you and that might help me gain some perspective on the whole thing and develop a new attitude, one way or the other.
i really wish i could show you everything i've written about you. it's interesting because before you introduced me to houellebecq and kundera, i would never dream about writing about my feelings for someone in this highly-intellectualized manner. i'm not sure if it's just me maturing, or the influence of those two authors, or if the way i feel about you is so obviously idealized that i can't think about you in any other way, but it sure is interesting. anyway, every time i write something about you, i think i'm going to show it to you so that you can know how i feel, but then at the last minute i change my mind because i'm afraid of you knowing how i feel and ashamed that i can only express it after the fact in the form of the written, rather than spoken, word.
this was quite verbose, but my point i think is: this thing, this "affair," if you will (hate that scarlet a-word) is both dragging me down and pulling me up at the same time and, after spending two months contemplating on whether or not it's a good idea and thus becoming obsessed with it, i still don't have an answer for either of the two questions posed.
maybe it will work itself out naturally.
here's hopin'.
well, make that two: do i even want to?
i think the thing is that i want to want to but i'm not sure if i want to.
i've fallen in love with the idea of you, so interesting, so against the grain (everybody thinks it's wrong to cheat; those who don't just confuse me because i feel that if i was really on the same level as they are on the subject i would feel as though they were kindred spirits, but i never do; conversing about it with them makes me feel lost, as apposed to found.)
i like some aspects of you as an actual person: of course you are very good looking and there is some semblance of sexual chemistry between us, but mostly i like how you are as nervous and jumpy as i am (although i think maybe that's the thing that lends itself to the overwhelming sense of doom i feel whenever i think about this, which is often.)
i also like how you are a bit androgynous, which is how i feel at times, too. like you fill in the blanks in my femininity, and i in your masculinity (although shit who knows, you probably don't feel this way about me because i am more like an object than anything else and because i can never really speak on anything of consequence with you - it might shatter the illusion.)
i don't like, however, how this new avenue of exploration of sexuality, originally based solely on the need to be distracted from depression, has become an intellectual mine-field that causes intense swings in my behavior -- from more social than ever before to completely locked in the room of my own mind, from happy and excited and looking forward to waking up on wednesday morning to wishing i could stay in bed all day long on monday and just think about you, my new favorite and least favorite pass time.
i think perhaps my infatuation with you is symptomatic depression; it makes no sense, but you are a really great distraction when you are around and when you're not, my need to be distracted by you at all times causes bouts of stress and mindlessness. especially after what happened last week.
that case in particular is extremely problematic. all summer i think about it, it is my dream, which i fear never will be realized. and then it is, but in such robotic and unnatural motions (you are strapped for time and, more importantly, trying not to get too close, that much is obvious), and in such an unusual and inappropriate setting, while i'm trying to actually have a conversation with you, that i'm all nervous and detached and end up thinking about my idea of the act rather than the act itself, and lucy from peanuts is staring at me and i can't really commit to it. in short, it doesn't work out like we'd hoped. the most nerve-wracking part is, i'm not sure if you even noticed. if you did, it wasn't obvious. i think maybe if you had, we could have talked about it and maybe it would have been better.
i am trying this thing, no regrets. so i guess next time i see you, which hopefully will be tomorrow but really, who knows, i will talk about it with you and that might help me gain some perspective on the whole thing and develop a new attitude, one way or the other.
i really wish i could show you everything i've written about you. it's interesting because before you introduced me to houellebecq and kundera, i would never dream about writing about my feelings for someone in this highly-intellectualized manner. i'm not sure if it's just me maturing, or the influence of those two authors, or if the way i feel about you is so obviously idealized that i can't think about you in any other way, but it sure is interesting. anyway, every time i write something about you, i think i'm going to show it to you so that you can know how i feel, but then at the last minute i change my mind because i'm afraid of you knowing how i feel and ashamed that i can only express it after the fact in the form of the written, rather than spoken, word.
this was quite verbose, but my point i think is: this thing, this "affair," if you will (hate that scarlet a-word) is both dragging me down and pulling me up at the same time and, after spending two months contemplating on whether or not it's a good idea and thus becoming obsessed with it, i still don't have an answer for either of the two questions posed.
maybe it will work itself out naturally.
here's hopin'.