(no subject)
when he put his arm around me last night everything just felt wrong. then he fumbled for my hand, which didn't make things any better, but i still managed to lay my head on his shoulder and to snuggle into his sweater because well, you know how it goes. he was there and he was there and there. bodies get familiar with bodies. we crave warmth. i don't think i had yet recovered from this insane week.
the whole thing seemed abrupt but oddly premeditated--either way, a little false on both sides. which was sad to think, considering how well we go together, how much we care about each other, and la-dee-dah. how many people have let themselves get in this same exact situation?
anyway, afterwards with his family was great. afterwards in the car was great. he turned the corner of the street that leads to my house and looked at me: "can we go somewhere?" and i might have nodded or smiled or thought this is so absurd, so he drove right past my little pastel house and through all the little streets that make up my town until we found ourselves where a million other pairs must have found themselves when they want to escape from it all: parked, on a mountain, overlooking a valley strewn with lights beneath a layer of condensed fog.
the air felt somewhat pre-storm balmy, not to mention the heater that was blasting on 10. some inconsistent sounding jazz played in the background and we talked long and good. of course we managed to sidestep talking about us, but the conversation was intimate. there were tears at one point, but not because we had decided to not try at all. we decided to care, even though we don't know where that might lead us. because it's better, i think, to find yourselves on a dark road blinded by shadows instead of sitting somewhere on a fence, dangling your toes but unable to reach the soft grass below.
we drove to my house and idled in the driveway. i told him that it mattered--feeling things, any things. that it was okay to be scared, confused, to not have a clue how to act because when does anyone know how to act. i told him it was not okay to leave me in the dark or to be mean. i told him that i really did care about him but didn't know how i felt, like this, with arms and lips and bodies seeking warmth and us. we agreed that this was okay. better in the long run, to not make longterm plans, find out how to be tomorrow when we woke up from all this. on saturday, at movies, sitting on the couch, in front of friends, at our friends' wedding reception in one week's time. it's enough to know right now that we care about each other. it is enough for this moment that he rested his hand on my knee, as he's prone, and choked up when he said you are such a special person to me.
so we hugged because it felt right. and we said good night. i walked up the stairs, waved from the balcony, grinned, and walked inside. he puttered down the street to turn right at the light, drive past dark houses and mountains glowing in the starlight and city glow, to his house where it was quiet and warm, and we both fell asleep with 20 city blocks between us, feeling better than we had all week.
the whole thing seemed abrupt but oddly premeditated--either way, a little false on both sides. which was sad to think, considering how well we go together, how much we care about each other, and la-dee-dah. how many people have let themselves get in this same exact situation?
anyway, afterwards with his family was great. afterwards in the car was great. he turned the corner of the street that leads to my house and looked at me: "can we go somewhere?" and i might have nodded or smiled or thought this is so absurd, so he drove right past my little pastel house and through all the little streets that make up my town until we found ourselves where a million other pairs must have found themselves when they want to escape from it all: parked, on a mountain, overlooking a valley strewn with lights beneath a layer of condensed fog.
the air felt somewhat pre-storm balmy, not to mention the heater that was blasting on 10. some inconsistent sounding jazz played in the background and we talked long and good. of course we managed to sidestep talking about us, but the conversation was intimate. there were tears at one point, but not because we had decided to not try at all. we decided to care, even though we don't know where that might lead us. because it's better, i think, to find yourselves on a dark road blinded by shadows instead of sitting somewhere on a fence, dangling your toes but unable to reach the soft grass below.
we drove to my house and idled in the driveway. i told him that it mattered--feeling things, any things. that it was okay to be scared, confused, to not have a clue how to act because when does anyone know how to act. i told him it was not okay to leave me in the dark or to be mean. i told him that i really did care about him but didn't know how i felt, like this, with arms and lips and bodies seeking warmth and us. we agreed that this was okay. better in the long run, to not make longterm plans, find out how to be tomorrow when we woke up from all this. on saturday, at movies, sitting on the couch, in front of friends, at our friends' wedding reception in one week's time. it's enough to know right now that we care about each other. it is enough for this moment that he rested his hand on my knee, as he's prone, and choked up when he said you are such a special person to me.
so we hugged because it felt right. and we said good night. i walked up the stairs, waved from the balcony, grinned, and walked inside. he puttered down the street to turn right at the light, drive past dark houses and mountains glowing in the starlight and city glow, to his house where it was quiet and warm, and we both fell asleep with 20 city blocks between us, feeling better than we had all week.