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v u l v a l i c i o u s

2003-09-09 // 1:36 a.m.

But this is nothing like I thought it would be, I'm scared all the time, I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt you. I've gotta pay somehow, but it couldn't happen to me now.

Somehow or another, I fell into someone who cares about me. She writes me notes and tells me that she wants to know what I am and am not, what holds my mind. She wants to hold me down and fuck me. I make her hot, and she does the same for me. I like to look into her eyes and see them looking back at me in a way that means they don't ever want to stop. She lets me sleep in the crook of her arm, and I feel good there.

It is not what I imagined. I bristle at the word girlfriend, dribble it out like a child with a sippy cup, put it in manual quotes to illustrate my disdain for it. Not her, but it. Maybe.

I wonder where I am with her, if I care for her like she seems to care for me. Distance is unkind in these situations, and leaves me questioning everything I say/think/do as well as everything I do not. She wants to talk with me, and I want to talk with her. A part of me can't question the ridiculous smile that comes to my face when I talk with her or think of her.

I wrote her a wicked story and sent it to her to read at work, three parts, only the first two sent; I wanted to imagine her squirming uncomfortably at work, unable to do anything but think of fucking me. Mission accomplished. She tells me that she cannot match my ability with words, that she can only expect to overtake me physically.

I hate the truth in that. I think she's wonderful, amazing, honest. I think I care for her. I hold her up to my over-arching She, the one who has been taking over my thoughts since this time last year, and she starts to fade out. The connection we have is surface in comparison, based in heated physicality and emotion. I wonder if this is enough for me. I know that it's not.

I long to tell her that she is my mental standard, that our conversations are what I'm in love with, that I want so badly to be with her on that level, that I understand we could probably never be physical with one another.

Except that she hugged me when I saw her the first time this year, was as excited to see me as I was to see her. She reached out and pulled me in, so quickly that the experience didn't ground itself in me well enough for me to relive it over and over the way that I'd like.

The fact is that I cannot choose between these two things, two wholly separate kinds of attraction, and I do not feel I should have to. There is the one who I feel I might be falling for, physically, emotionally, the sharer of all sorts of touches across long distance phone lines, and there is the one who I am in love with intellectually, mentally, heartily. The difference is that I am in love with the latter, not the former. The words, in love, are the ones that make me worry.

One, after all, could be in love with me. And the other could not, not ever.

If I had to choose, I don't know which I would pick. This is nothing like I thought it would be.


i travel backwards in time, but dream of going forward - 2006-11-21
The Gentrification of a Perfectly Good Cunt - 2006-04-02
apologia, not apology - 2006-03-06
karen carpeter loops and the space time continuum - 2005-12-19
kissing like you mean it, even when you don't necessarily know what "it" is - 2005-04-16