Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Part V: The edge of desire- From 0 to 100 mph in a split second

In the previous post, against my better judgment, I decide to watch Star Wars with the Dominican crew, and end up sharing the couch with Jacob Wannabe himself.
After having a tantrum because I didn't want to leave, Jacob offers to stop by my house on his way home... to which, half asleep, I encourage. It's only AFTER I hung up that I realized what I was getting myself into.. and even then, it was ride that took me nowhere near I though I would be.
I originally made an elusive post about it... but it's kindof a spoiler... so... I'm leaving it for the end.
P.s.: This is a ridiculously long post for no reason. Actually, it's because I'm relishing the moment as I write this up. So there. Consider yourself forewarned. 

Part V: The Edge of Desire- From 0 to 100 mph in a split second

"Often times one meets destiny on the path one takes to avoid it"
I can assure you that this was no exception whatsoever.
By repeatedly telling myself that nothing was going to happen and keeping my mouth shut from saying anything that would imply I have any kind of feeling towards the guy... I well.. pretty much helped set up the scenario for what happened next...
It was sudden.... and intense.... and lusted for.
I don't even know what hit me. It was just... unexpected, even to myself. Even when I kept thinking and hoping to have one-on-one time to talk about the whole drama that ensued early last December, I didn't really think much further other than "Will we talk about this?" -and by we talking I mean me saying some hard truths and him not digging for reasons and excuses- and "Will he ask me out again?" reveries that clouded my mind between dusk and dawn.
Despite my million and one thoughts of how I would answer... How I'd act all offended, how I'd be insulted by his proposal, how I'd be upset, how I'd pretend I had better things to do with my life... I just said "Suuuuure, why not?". Talk about anti-climatic... and now, he was on the way to my apartment complex and I was in pjs and not even wearing real shoes and it's the the night was the coldest yet this season...
I run down the 3rd floor open stairs my apartment has and jumped into his car. Things feel more comfortable than they should, and it's almost like nothing ever happened, and I don't think about how upset I was or how much shit has happened... I just get hit by a happy moment and think about how much I like it.
We start talking. He plugs up his iPod and plays the infamous "Chill" playlist of his, which turned out to be a force to be reckoned with on it's own merits.
We talk. We talked about nothing and everything and things in between. We talked about people and places and circumstances.
I swear- and I'm not saying this for his benefit, I promise- he must have apologized for all the things that have happened like a dozen times or so. None of which I really believe, but I guess the intention counts for something right? It certainly set the tone for the moment.
I make a point of asking about PB and how things are going between them, and he mentions how they're ok, but then decided to add how she was impressed when she saw me get to the NYE party... and then he had to explain that it was me, and well, she put a face to the name alright. I was rather surprised... but shit, that was MY moment of glory and vanity and all that other female good stuff and I took it with a smile.
He asked me for a hug, a real hug, and I obliged.
He asked questions on how I've been, and what I've been up to.
He constantly mentions how much he's missed me and I'm slightly flattered... I mean... damn...
The thing is, I'm a skeptic, and I have good reason to be. Why would I take his words for face value when less than a month ago he sorta dissed me and went back to dating his ex?

It's somewhere around 3 am at this point, and here we were, continuously talking in an air that was so charged you cut the tension with a knife.
His gas light came on, so, he turned the car off. I was freezing. I'm not made for cold weather.
I pretended to not be bothered much and we kept talking.... and then he held my hand.

With a sheepish smile I look at my feet and avoid saying the million things racing through my head -what are we doing?! why are you holding my hand? I should just go home- and I try to keep myself in the moment. Matter of fact, I tried that so hard that I flung myself into the moment, and before I know it he's telling me how much he missed me, and how much fun we have together, and we start laughing and joking around, as he kisses my forehead. I vaguely get the slight impression that we're setting boundaries to our somewhat of a friendship and that, all in all, I don't HATE the guy.
He leans his forehead against mine, and I start to wonder how old we are. I feel like a kid in a playground, struggling to find words and to be coherent and thinking about how much I don't want to screw this up, while also, I have the empowered feminist inside me yelling at me for being a blind idiot... but as they say, there is no one more blinded than he who does not want to see.
Ignorance is bliss.
Denial, my good old friend Denial, is like the purgatory of feelings. You fool yourself for ever so long and be happy in your foolishness, until you have a brief moment slip and reality slaps you like a bitch. I was in a happy place and dammit, I was staying there as long as I could... but eventually I pull away in hopes to keep some sort of control behind all the chaos inside me... and just to avoid the temptation...
Oh, but I'm a fool for love. I openly admit it. My plan for control and discipline and distance was hopelessly flawed by the fact that I have a soft spot for the guy...
There we were, his forehead is resting against mine and the music kept playing, and we kept talking... at this point our conversation is going onto how he misses my sarcasm and wit and everything else...
and what's a girl to do? I am susceptible to flattery.
He kissed me... and I didn't stop him. He kissed me again and I was still kinda in shock. He kissed me again, and, third time lucky, I kissed him back. Dammit! I wasn't even supposed to be here!
He held my hands in his, and tried to warm them up, as we kept talking... somewhere down the line, it became clear that my hands were not the only part of me that was cold, it was my whole body.

He beckons me to sit on his lap, open arms offering warmth and comfort that I am not immune to.... so after toughing it out for a while, he rolls up his sleeves and pulls me onto his lap.
Uhm. Okay. I ... I didn't really count on this situation coming up.... so... um... wow.

When he's finally got me on his lap, he gives me the biggest bear hug ever.... a hug that was enough to keep me wrapped up and curled up against him. As cold as it was, he felt warm and cozy and well... who am I gonna try to fool, I liked being against him, so close. I felt comforted in what seemed to be the most innocent, sweet gesture, and at the same time, in the larger scheme of things, thought about how I really could get used to being there more often. Subconsciously, I was was aware of the fact that this was, most likely the last time he and I would be this close... but at the moment it was more like me seeking a validation of affection of sorts... Because, throughout the whole time, I kept questioning if I was literally throwing myself at him, like some two dollar whore, desperate for attention and comfort and reassurance and love.

The playlist, which I keep listening to and thinking God has a messed up sense of humor, makes the whole situation seem like it's a scene out of a movie, or at the very least, like it's the season finale of some cool sit com. I don't mention it, but eventually he does, and we laugh about it, like we always do.
We keep talking, this time about music. He mentions how he's missing someone to talk to this much, and how he's been trying to find new music to listen to lately. John Mayer's new album comes up. He mentions the song that was playing at the time, makes him think of me.
"I want you so bad , I'll go back on the things I believe...
There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me..."

That was the last thing I really heard for a while.  I sat on his lap and buried my face in his neck and just savored the moment for what it was worth: a moment in time that was emotionally intense.

Eventually, I did pull away and started asking myself out loud what the hell were we doing and why were we here... but 30 minutes passed... and hour passed... the playlist kept going... the kisses kept coming and the jokes rolled in too... how could you expect me to want to leave?

He asked how I felt... I told him I felt like I went from 0 to 100 mph in a split second.
I asked him how he felt and he told me he felt like he was in some sort of romantic sitcom in which we're the main characters and this was the season finale. (Did I mention he's a movie/ tv fanatic? about that...)
He went so far as to compare it to the season finale of Dexter, one of the many interests we have in common.
We ranted and raved about the playlist, and start pulling away, gathering our minds in an effort to sort whatever just happened... and then King of Leon's "Use Somebody" comes up and I swear, I would totally have to agree that tis was the moment in which I personally felt like we stepped out from reality and stepped into some alternate-universe/ storyline, in which everything was magical...
He kissed me like never before. SO much so that I as surprised... overwhelmed... I felt like my heart was on the verge of explosion itself.... But like all good things, the song ended and we ended it with a baffled look on our faces wondering if this was turning into a bad habit... one that I have yet to manage to kick off...
and well... we keep talking... it's around 4:30 am by then... I'm completely shivering and he's rubbing my arms and shoulders in an attempt to warm me up... and as his forehead leaned against mine again, I distantly hear myself tell him that it's unfair he's taken the situation this far and remind him that we should be anywhere but here. I know I have as much to blame as he does... but... he's the one with the significant other, not me.
Let it be his burden, not mine.
 After a while of convincing myself, I pull away. Eventually, I decide I need to leave... it's starting to dawn, it's 6 am and we're still in his car, in the midst of the most ridiculous situation, avoiding questions whose answers were already known but were bitter and would, most certainly, ruin the moment.

So off into the morning he went, and I went home. We texted while he drove home, a good 30 minutes away. He got home, and we called it a night. I wanted to head to bed but... I decided to get on here, and wrote the following post, which I later removed:

I don't know how this happened.
I was drowsy and sketching... I swear that this BY FAR the most unexpected thing ever.
How does one go from irreparable hurt to intense desire?!
This shit didn't make any kind of sense
A hug. A REAL hug
and another
and another
and foreheads together
and then I missed yous merge into conversation
and who did what to avoid the thought of the other
and why the hell are we here's
and shit then he kissed me and I couldn't stop after that
and 30 minutes
and an hour
and two hours later
in friggin 12 degree weather
wearing flannel pj's and a bubble jacket with bed booties are not a good combination
I shivered like crazy
he sat me on his lap
and held my hands and blew on the to warm them up
and rubbed my calves because I get cold feet
with a playlist that just literally made the moment seem like we were caught in a romantic comedy with the insane plot twist when you least expect it
In the middle of a moment
"Use somebody" came up and I almost felt my heart explode...
you had never ever kissed me like that...
and I'll admit I was rather dumbstruck with awe to be honest

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