Oh Hai Thar Cross, I Will Be Your Bearer This Eve
So I've been kinda sorta half-seeing this guy Deaks* for the last month or so. Fly in/fly out mechanic, smart, funny, sweet, attentive, and more importantly -- he's not bugfuck insane paranoid. Which is a refreshing change for me this year. I actually like this guy.
I'd spent the day in the company of FIS, helping him move his furniture (not a euphemism, I swear). And while I was driving home to get ready for my date with Deaks, FIS made it abundantly clear via text that if I turned my car around and went back to his door, we were both probably going to end up naked and sweaty.
Now, I adore FIS. I love hanging with him and arguing politics and just standing next to this man makes me want to bite my fist. I would LOVE to get naked and sweaty with FIS. This is not news to anyone who has read my el-jay for any length of time. But I had a date with Deaks. And he's under the impression we're maybe sort of dating, and I'm under the impression we're maybe sort of dating, and I am not the kind of person who has ever seen the appeal in riding two horses with one ass.
So I pulled over and stared at my cell phone for a while, then I went home and I showered and got dressed and I went on my date.
All night I felt bad, because I was having dinner with this guy wondering if I would rather be having dinner with FIS, and trying to figure out if I actually like this man, or if I'm just attracted to the fact that he is nothing like That Irish Guy, which is a whole other layer of Dragons!wtf I really don't wanna get into.
By the time we'd sat through The Social Network (which was awesome, btw) and he'd walked me back to my car, all I'd decided was that I was reeeeeally glad he's flying out for work on Sunday, and I'd have more time to think.
He kissed me for a while, and I kissed him back because I like kissing him. And then halfway through he breaks off the kiss and blurts out: "You really scare the hell outta me."
I didn't really catch my cringe. "Wow. Scary like how?"
"I don't know. You don't drink. That's...scary for me."
I nearly laughed out loud. Which would have been hugely inappropriate, so I'm glad I didn't.
"I'll call you before I fly out," he said as he shut my car door for me.
I...don't think he'll be calling before he flies out. And for a minute there after he left, I was feeling kind of liberated, like the problem had just solved itself and I was free to either return FIS's advances or no, in uncomplicated fashion without hurting this guy who had been very kind and sweet and attentive for the past few weeks.
But then it occurred to me: You're never going to have a drink again for the rest of your life. As long as you live. Like a shovel to the features. Like I hadn't had this same realisation sixty billion times before.
Across the street, people were crowded into the Crown and Anchor, and I watched their glasses at their lips and their uninhibited conversations lubricated by alcohol. I felt a keen awareness of my rock and my hard place. Half the people I meet are afraid I can't maintain my sobriety, and the other half are terrified that I will.
"He was well aware of the discomfort he caused each time he said 'No, thank you.' The status these words conferred. People didn't want to have sober witnesses when they let go of their inhibitions; a guilty conscience sitting next to them, looking on." - Karen Alvtegen, Shadow
There are consequences to our actions. I have earned both ends of that spectrum. I earned this cross. And I accept that and I don't begrudge its weight.
But sometimes...I just miss feeling normal. Sometimes I really want to feel like those normal people. *points to all the people in the bars*
Anyway. It's really late. And FIS totally wants my naked ass. So there's that. I'ma go to bed and think about that.
* - Not Deaks' actual name. Obviously.
I'd spent the day in the company of FIS, helping him move his furniture (not a euphemism, I swear). And while I was driving home to get ready for my date with Deaks, FIS made it abundantly clear via text that if I turned my car around and went back to his door, we were both probably going to end up naked and sweaty.
Now, I adore FIS. I love hanging with him and arguing politics and just standing next to this man makes me want to bite my fist. I would LOVE to get naked and sweaty with FIS. This is not news to anyone who has read my el-jay for any length of time. But I had a date with Deaks. And he's under the impression we're maybe sort of dating, and I'm under the impression we're maybe sort of dating, and I am not the kind of person who has ever seen the appeal in riding two horses with one ass.
So I pulled over and stared at my cell phone for a while, then I went home and I showered and got dressed and I went on my date.
All night I felt bad, because I was having dinner with this guy wondering if I would rather be having dinner with FIS, and trying to figure out if I actually like this man, or if I'm just attracted to the fact that he is nothing like That Irish Guy, which is a whole other layer of Dragons!wtf I really don't wanna get into.
By the time we'd sat through The Social Network (which was awesome, btw) and he'd walked me back to my car, all I'd decided was that I was reeeeeally glad he's flying out for work on Sunday, and I'd have more time to think.
He kissed me for a while, and I kissed him back because I like kissing him. And then halfway through he breaks off the kiss and blurts out: "You really scare the hell outta me."
I didn't really catch my cringe. "Wow. Scary like how?"
"I don't know. You don't drink. That's...scary for me."
I nearly laughed out loud. Which would have been hugely inappropriate, so I'm glad I didn't.
"I'll call you before I fly out," he said as he shut my car door for me.
I...don't think he'll be calling before he flies out. And for a minute there after he left, I was feeling kind of liberated, like the problem had just solved itself and I was free to either return FIS's advances or no, in uncomplicated fashion without hurting this guy who had been very kind and sweet and attentive for the past few weeks.
But then it occurred to me: You're never going to have a drink again for the rest of your life. As long as you live. Like a shovel to the features. Like I hadn't had this same realisation sixty billion times before.
Across the street, people were crowded into the Crown and Anchor, and I watched their glasses at their lips and their uninhibited conversations lubricated by alcohol. I felt a keen awareness of my rock and my hard place. Half the people I meet are afraid I can't maintain my sobriety, and the other half are terrified that I will.
"He was well aware of the discomfort he caused each time he said 'No, thank you.' The status these words conferred. People didn't want to have sober witnesses when they let go of their inhibitions; a guilty conscience sitting next to them, looking on." - Karen Alvtegen, Shadow
There are consequences to our actions. I have earned both ends of that spectrum. I earned this cross. And I accept that and I don't begrudge its weight.
But sometimes...I just miss feeling normal. Sometimes I really want to feel like those normal people. *points to all the people in the bars*
Anyway. It's really late. And FIS totally wants my naked ass. So there's that. I'ma go to bed and think about that.
* - Not Deaks' actual name. Obviously.