(no subject)
Ok. Something is still wrong with me. I started feeling some anxiety this morning. I managed to pretty much keep a lid on it until I was alone this afternoon when it really started raging.
Last night I was playing cards at the local dive with my pals. My tattoo guy - we’re gonna call him Mark - showed up late with his coworker. They were a bit tipsy. They sat with us and chatted. He and I smiled at each other, big happy smiles, but besides that, no couplie behavior. In fact there was a girl sitting behind me by herself and he chatted her up quite a lot. I was almost a little jealous, but I told myself repeatedly how ridiculous that is and how it is nice that he can be friendly to everyone. And when I started listening to what he was actually saying to her I realized he wasn’t sharing any personal information. He was in fact, avoiding giving any honest or thoughtful answers about anything personal.
I am a tall girl. I’m not fat, I don’t think I’m even overweight, but for some reason people use the word “big” to describe me frequently. Now I think if I did have a weight problem they would probably be more sensitive about using that word, but it can still be a bit hard on the ego. And I’ve already mentioned how he called me “a big one” the first time he put his hands on me. I’ve also made fun of him several times since. So this girl sees my dog and says, “oh yours? Ha! A big dog for a big girl!” And I just try to smile politely and Mark starts grinning at me and says, “Yeah, she is a BIG ONE!” And the girl doesn’t know the background or anything about how we know each other so she immediately feels bad for me and starts saying how she meant tall and how I’m beautiful and have that whole Uma Thurman thing going. And he starts laughing and says, “Uma. Mmmm. Yeah. (sounding pleased) She’s big though. Big in all the right places.” The girl didn’t say anything in response to that. In fact it ended the discussion of my physical attributes all together. At the end of the night I asked him to walk me home. When we got to my apartment he just started following me inside and I turned and said, “You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.”
“You don’t want me to?”
“I do. I mean, I will pressure you to walk me home, but I don’t want to pressure you to stay over if you don’t want to.”
“I do! I love sleeping in a bed.” (he sleeps on a futon normally).
“I knew it!”
“No, I mean I love sleeping in bed with another person.”
“A warm body.”
“No. Christ, I’ll get this right. I mean I like sleeping in bed with you, with you. Ok?”
“Uh huh. You are sure hard on me. I’m huge and a convenient warm body.”
“Come on! You know that’s not what I meant. I like being here with you. I like you. I like sleeping next to you.”
I just smiled.
We stayed up for a half an hour or so talking, but he looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting up. I told him to go to bed. I got ready and followed him in a few minutes later. We went to sleep with no sex and no cuddling or kissing at all. I was very tired too and it was fine with me. In bed we made plans to walk through the zoo the next day.
In the morning anxiety struck. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid next to him dying to touch him. I laid a few inches away terrified of being too forward. I couldn’t touch him. I got up and shifted around. I even took my nightgown off. Maybe he would smell my skin or brush up against me or SOMETHING and he would want me. I started to feel scared. He isn’t touching me because he doesn’t like me that much. I don’t inspire passion in him. He isn’t crazy about me. He isn’t that attracted to me. He doesn’t reach out for me in his sleep. He wants to be left on his own side of the bed. My heart started beating fast. I felt an urgent need to physically touch him and a paralyzing fear over what would happen if I did. Eventually I scooted as close to him as I could get without touching him. I spooned him without touching him. I was so close that I could feel the warmth of his back on my face. I laid there for a while and then I placed one arm on his hip. I just rested it there and let my fingers spread down over his belly. I closed my eyes and imagined touching his penis with all my might. I sent out all my mystical energy to make it happen without actually doing it. I imagined increasing the pressure of my fingers, but did not actually move my fingers. Surely he can feel all this in his sleep. Surely he senses what I’m up to. At some point he moves and my arm goes more completely around him resting securely across his stomach. He stretches his foot back and brushes it against my leg. I say, “Do you not like to be touched while you are sleeping?”
“What? Why? What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“If I smacked you or something in my sleep it wasn’t on purpose. I was asleep. What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. Some people just want to be left alone while they sleep. I’m just trying to get a sense.”
“Oh. Either way. Do whatever you want. I’m sleeping, I probably won’t even know.”
But now he was awake and he pulled my arm more snuggly around him and scooted into me and wrapped our legs together. We laid there talking and eventually he shifted again to lay on his back and repositioned me so that my head was on his arm and he could curl me against his chest. I noticed that his penis was pretty ready to go. I glanced down at it and felt like a hungry dog. I don’t think he saw me looking, but he immediately tucked it back in and continued to lay there holding me. Eventually we got up - no sex. He realized he had to get his laundry from the shop and it didn’t make sense to walk through the zoo. He suggests we do it another time. I try not to show my disappointment and say, “Ok.” I make pancakes and eggs. He suggests we go out for breakfast so that I don’t have to cook. I say I don’t mind and he says ok, but that I don’t always have to cook. After breakfast he looks at me very seriously and says, “Malevolentsule, you have outdone yourself. I can’t believe you made me pancakes. This was delicious. You are so good to me. Thank you. Thank you so much. Really.”
I smile happily, “You like pancakes.” Not a question, just a happy acknowledgement. Then he says, “Do you want to walk through the zoo?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. Why don’t I go to the shop, get my laundry and I’ll come back here and pick you up and we can go.”
Before he left I said, “Wait!” and ran to the door. I stood next to him and angled my head to expose my neck. He knew immediately what I was about. He leaned in and kissed me long and soft and slow on my throat. While he was in close I said, “I like this one the best so far.” He laughed softly and kissed me there again. When he returned he waited for me to finish getting dressed. He carried his laundry for the hour and a half walk through the zoo and the park in the boiling heat so that we could walk together. Then at the metro station platform he said good bye and leaned in facing me with his mouth puckered. I blinked at him and leaned in to kiss him back. It was kind of awkward, but sweet. As soon as he turned away I started giggling hysterically. He turned back around and smiled, shaking his head like I was a lunatic.
So where in this story does he do anything wrong? He’s being great right? He’s obviously not using me for sex. He LIKES me. He really cares about me and wants to make me happy. And I really do think he finds me attractive. I might not be his “type”, but I think he finds me attractive. So why all the god damned anxiety? At first I thought it was because I somehow sense that he isn’t genuinely attracted to me. That is ridiculous though isn’t it? I think it’s ridiculous. Then when I started talking to my girlfriend about it I realized I am terrified. As soon as the thought occurred to me I had an overwhelming urge to cry my eyes out (usually a clue that I’m on to something). I’m fucking terrified that he is going to decide he doesn’t want me. That I will reveal myself and let myself really want him and he won’t want me in return. There are moments when I’m sitting with him and I think, “Eh. I can do without this.” And at first I thought maybe I don’t really like him, maybe I just like having someone. That’s not it though. I do like him. I can give you a long list of things that I really admire about him that have nothing to do with physical attraction. I think he’s interesting and fun and funny and thoughtful and I really enjoy his company. I like him. I think what I’m doing in those moments is feeling insecure. I’m shutting down because I’m trying not to be vulnerable. And even though I know he is not bobwasb or Andy or Flipe or any of those guys, that’s what I keep expecting. I expect a sudden reversal. I expect to be rejected. I expect to be hit in the gut with some kind of emotional explosion. I am rabid to cling to these moments because they never last. I am frantic to be kissed on the neck and held and smiled at because I know it’s going to be gone too soon. Do you remember E? That’s the closest thing I had to this. It wasn’t the same. There were enough warning signals there that I should have known. We melded in to each other immediately upon meeting. We didn’t part for more than an hour in the first 48 hours of meeting. I changed who I was to meld with him. I realigned my priorities, I just wanted to drown in him. And he was clearly miserable and barely functioning. Maybe not barely, but definitely not at the top of anyone’s game. None of that applies here, but what is similar is that I felt so much for him. I wanted him and I sensed that he wanted me less. I desired him and I sensed that he was more reticent. I don’t know if that is the case here, but it feels like it could be. I will convey my desire for him and he will tell me that he feels “pressured” by my attraction for him. He will tell me that he just doesn’t want me the same way I want him. He doesn’t desire me the way I do him. He will absorb what I have to give him, letting me think he wants it and when he is bored with it he will throw it all back. Everything I have will be rejected and I will be…. What? What will I be? I will be employed and flush with friends and visiting family and doing shit because that’s what I’m going to do differently this time. I’m going to employ some balance. I’m going to be responsible for myself and I’m going to moderate what I put forth. That’s all I have to do right now. I just need to take care of myself. I need to value myself. I need to spend that energy on me. I deserve it, regardless of whether I get it from him, I deserve it. I can do this. If I need to slow down, I can slow down. Whatever I need, I just need to figure it out and ask for it. I can take care of me. That’s all I really need.
Last night I was playing cards at the local dive with my pals. My tattoo guy - we’re gonna call him Mark - showed up late with his coworker. They were a bit tipsy. They sat with us and chatted. He and I smiled at each other, big happy smiles, but besides that, no couplie behavior. In fact there was a girl sitting behind me by herself and he chatted her up quite a lot. I was almost a little jealous, but I told myself repeatedly how ridiculous that is and how it is nice that he can be friendly to everyone. And when I started listening to what he was actually saying to her I realized he wasn’t sharing any personal information. He was in fact, avoiding giving any honest or thoughtful answers about anything personal.
I am a tall girl. I’m not fat, I don’t think I’m even overweight, but for some reason people use the word “big” to describe me frequently. Now I think if I did have a weight problem they would probably be more sensitive about using that word, but it can still be a bit hard on the ego. And I’ve already mentioned how he called me “a big one” the first time he put his hands on me. I’ve also made fun of him several times since. So this girl sees my dog and says, “oh yours? Ha! A big dog for a big girl!” And I just try to smile politely and Mark starts grinning at me and says, “Yeah, she is a BIG ONE!” And the girl doesn’t know the background or anything about how we know each other so she immediately feels bad for me and starts saying how she meant tall and how I’m beautiful and have that whole Uma Thurman thing going. And he starts laughing and says, “Uma. Mmmm. Yeah. (sounding pleased) She’s big though. Big in all the right places.” The girl didn’t say anything in response to that. In fact it ended the discussion of my physical attributes all together. At the end of the night I asked him to walk me home. When we got to my apartment he just started following me inside and I turned and said, “You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.”
“You don’t want me to?”
“I do. I mean, I will pressure you to walk me home, but I don’t want to pressure you to stay over if you don’t want to.”
“I do! I love sleeping in a bed.” (he sleeps on a futon normally).
“I knew it!”
“No, I mean I love sleeping in bed with another person.”
“A warm body.”
“No. Christ, I’ll get this right. I mean I like sleeping in bed with you, with you. Ok?”
“Uh huh. You are sure hard on me. I’m huge and a convenient warm body.”
“Come on! You know that’s not what I meant. I like being here with you. I like you. I like sleeping next to you.”
I just smiled.
We stayed up for a half an hour or so talking, but he looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting up. I told him to go to bed. I got ready and followed him in a few minutes later. We went to sleep with no sex and no cuddling or kissing at all. I was very tired too and it was fine with me. In bed we made plans to walk through the zoo the next day.
In the morning anxiety struck. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid next to him dying to touch him. I laid a few inches away terrified of being too forward. I couldn’t touch him. I got up and shifted around. I even took my nightgown off. Maybe he would smell my skin or brush up against me or SOMETHING and he would want me. I started to feel scared. He isn’t touching me because he doesn’t like me that much. I don’t inspire passion in him. He isn’t crazy about me. He isn’t that attracted to me. He doesn’t reach out for me in his sleep. He wants to be left on his own side of the bed. My heart started beating fast. I felt an urgent need to physically touch him and a paralyzing fear over what would happen if I did. Eventually I scooted as close to him as I could get without touching him. I spooned him without touching him. I was so close that I could feel the warmth of his back on my face. I laid there for a while and then I placed one arm on his hip. I just rested it there and let my fingers spread down over his belly. I closed my eyes and imagined touching his penis with all my might. I sent out all my mystical energy to make it happen without actually doing it. I imagined increasing the pressure of my fingers, but did not actually move my fingers. Surely he can feel all this in his sleep. Surely he senses what I’m up to. At some point he moves and my arm goes more completely around him resting securely across his stomach. He stretches his foot back and brushes it against my leg. I say, “Do you not like to be touched while you are sleeping?”
“What? Why? What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“If I smacked you or something in my sleep it wasn’t on purpose. I was asleep. What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. Some people just want to be left alone while they sleep. I’m just trying to get a sense.”
“Oh. Either way. Do whatever you want. I’m sleeping, I probably won’t even know.”
But now he was awake and he pulled my arm more snuggly around him and scooted into me and wrapped our legs together. We laid there talking and eventually he shifted again to lay on his back and repositioned me so that my head was on his arm and he could curl me against his chest. I noticed that his penis was pretty ready to go. I glanced down at it and felt like a hungry dog. I don’t think he saw me looking, but he immediately tucked it back in and continued to lay there holding me. Eventually we got up - no sex. He realized he had to get his laundry from the shop and it didn’t make sense to walk through the zoo. He suggests we do it another time. I try not to show my disappointment and say, “Ok.” I make pancakes and eggs. He suggests we go out for breakfast so that I don’t have to cook. I say I don’t mind and he says ok, but that I don’t always have to cook. After breakfast he looks at me very seriously and says, “Malevolentsule, you have outdone yourself. I can’t believe you made me pancakes. This was delicious. You are so good to me. Thank you. Thank you so much. Really.”
I smile happily, “You like pancakes.” Not a question, just a happy acknowledgement. Then he says, “Do you want to walk through the zoo?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. Why don’t I go to the shop, get my laundry and I’ll come back here and pick you up and we can go.”
Before he left I said, “Wait!” and ran to the door. I stood next to him and angled my head to expose my neck. He knew immediately what I was about. He leaned in and kissed me long and soft and slow on my throat. While he was in close I said, “I like this one the best so far.” He laughed softly and kissed me there again. When he returned he waited for me to finish getting dressed. He carried his laundry for the hour and a half walk through the zoo and the park in the boiling heat so that we could walk together. Then at the metro station platform he said good bye and leaned in facing me with his mouth puckered. I blinked at him and leaned in to kiss him back. It was kind of awkward, but sweet. As soon as he turned away I started giggling hysterically. He turned back around and smiled, shaking his head like I was a lunatic.
So where in this story does he do anything wrong? He’s being great right? He’s obviously not using me for sex. He LIKES me. He really cares about me and wants to make me happy. And I really do think he finds me attractive. I might not be his “type”, but I think he finds me attractive. So why all the god damned anxiety? At first I thought it was because I somehow sense that he isn’t genuinely attracted to me. That is ridiculous though isn’t it? I think it’s ridiculous. Then when I started talking to my girlfriend about it I realized I am terrified. As soon as the thought occurred to me I had an overwhelming urge to cry my eyes out (usually a clue that I’m on to something). I’m fucking terrified that he is going to decide he doesn’t want me. That I will reveal myself and let myself really want him and he won’t want me in return. There are moments when I’m sitting with him and I think, “Eh. I can do without this.” And at first I thought maybe I don’t really like him, maybe I just like having someone. That’s not it though. I do like him. I can give you a long list of things that I really admire about him that have nothing to do with physical attraction. I think he’s interesting and fun and funny and thoughtful and I really enjoy his company. I like him. I think what I’m doing in those moments is feeling insecure. I’m shutting down because I’m trying not to be vulnerable. And even though I know he is not bobwasb or Andy or Flipe or any of those guys, that’s what I keep expecting. I expect a sudden reversal. I expect to be rejected. I expect to be hit in the gut with some kind of emotional explosion. I am rabid to cling to these moments because they never last. I am frantic to be kissed on the neck and held and smiled at because I know it’s going to be gone too soon. Do you remember E? That’s the closest thing I had to this. It wasn’t the same. There were enough warning signals there that I should have known. We melded in to each other immediately upon meeting. We didn’t part for more than an hour in the first 48 hours of meeting. I changed who I was to meld with him. I realigned my priorities, I just wanted to drown in him. And he was clearly miserable and barely functioning. Maybe not barely, but definitely not at the top of anyone’s game. None of that applies here, but what is similar is that I felt so much for him. I wanted him and I sensed that he wanted me less. I desired him and I sensed that he was more reticent. I don’t know if that is the case here, but it feels like it could be. I will convey my desire for him and he will tell me that he feels “pressured” by my attraction for him. He will tell me that he just doesn’t want me the same way I want him. He doesn’t desire me the way I do him. He will absorb what I have to give him, letting me think he wants it and when he is bored with it he will throw it all back. Everything I have will be rejected and I will be…. What? What will I be? I will be employed and flush with friends and visiting family and doing shit because that’s what I’m going to do differently this time. I’m going to employ some balance. I’m going to be responsible for myself and I’m going to moderate what I put forth. That’s all I have to do right now. I just need to take care of myself. I need to value myself. I need to spend that energy on me. I deserve it, regardless of whether I get it from him, I deserve it. I can do this. If I need to slow down, I can slow down. Whatever I need, I just need to figure it out and ask for it. I can take care of me. That’s all I really need.