Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Oh the Stubborness and the Delight

I know, I know, I have not learned anything at all. But whatever. For now anyway.

I went to see Jacob Wannabe.

This was the 1st time I'd gone back to his apartment since.... I can remember...
I think last time I went to North Ave was around October? I think... Most definitely NOT past November.

I went back, on a whim. I felt like it. I told him I was up for it.
I went over, we watched a movie, The Gods must be crazy, and then went to eat lunch at Moe's.

We went back to the apartment and watched 3 episodes of Criminal Minds.
I'll admit to the fact that I hugged him. Ok, it was a little more. Originally, we sat side by side on his bed (let me just say that his dorm is ridiculously small, there isn't room for anything other than a bed, a desk, a chair and an armoire) and we were facing the TV (which is on the desk, if you must know). But then he threw my legs over his, and pulled me closer, and who the hell am I to refuse a little affection?
He showered me with kisses and hugs, telling me how much he missed me.
But all I kept thinking about was the fact that... he's is taken.
So why does he keep doing this? Hellbent on sabotage? I'm not sure.

I like the attention, but to be honest, I make him keep a distance, and I repeatedly threaten to elbow his face a couple times if he keep pushing for whatever he was trying to get at.
I felt tempted to lay my head on his chest like I used to do... Shit, I'll admit I miss it.
There are so many things about him that attract me at some sort of visceral, primitive, instinctual level, that it's like it just bypasses my conscious thoughts...
We went to lunch at Moe's . His treat. We're talking about everything, how he missed our afternoons at his apartment watching movies, and how things could've been different if it weren't for BlackWhite guy, and the reasons why he and PB got back together... Eventually we shifted the topic to being Hispanic, and parents and my dad, and of course my pass out episodes. We briefly comment again on how fucked up our whatever it is IS, and he mentions that we should make a show with the drama we have going on with each other.
I told him I could actually write a novel based on it and he laughed.
We walked back to his apt, and watched Criminal Minds. I have to say that those must have been the 3 most messed up episodes I had seen up to date. Cuz Damn. DAYMN.

I was paying attention to the show... but he was kinda caught up in kissing my neck and rubbing my shoulders.
I got pissed and told him that he's a jerk, and he backed off, suddenly worried about how I reacted.
I told him that... "You made your choices. I moved on. I'm moving on. The fact that I still cherish the fucked up friendship we share, does NOT give you the right to abuse my feelings mercilessly".
This seemed to make him think deeply. He did back off... but we were kinda cuddling at this point anyway, so he remained content with laying his head next to mine on my shoulder and his arms around me.
Even then, it was much further than I would have liked... but then again, I liked it anyway.
After the 3rd episode, I had to leave. I was set to go to a study session, and, to make sure I wasn't tempted to stay longer, I had set my alarm to buzz off at the time I HAD to leave.
The alarm went off, and I'm about to get off the bed, but he rolls me over to be lying face-up directly below him and he kisses me. Insanely passionately.
Like that day in the car in the middle of the night passionately.
And instead of melting like putty (which I normally would have), I got pissed and told him he is a selfish bastard and that he needs to stop acting like a moron.
He wasn't quite expecting that I guess.
I got up, and got my shoes and my jacket, and he fumbled and mumbled an apology. I didn't care for one. I'm not one to take empty apologies well, which he knows, and which eventually got him to shut up.
We left. He walked me to North Ave again, like he usually does.
We part with a big hug.... the one thing that gets me more attached than a kiss.
The scent lingers in my thoughts.
I catch the train. I sketch, I think, I write.
There is something so dysfunctional with the way we relate to each other... and it tears at me when I'm on my own. Only when he's not around and I'm not busy living the moment, making the most of it, trying to absorb it and make it a keepsake at once.

This complicated story is one that, I get the feeling, is only now really beginning to be woven. It's been almost a year since that first date at the restaurant in mid-town, where we ate and talked and talked and talked before heading over to watch a movie at his house.
This seems like a routine, his modus operandi... one that I got to know very very very well later on, specially during my afternoons at North Ave.
We have yet to finish watching paprika.

I don't know if we will.
I have the running joke that the next time we'll see each other is going to be 4th of July, when we're with the family at Centennial.... I wish I really had the certainty that THAT'S going to be the case, but who am I trying to fool here?
For whatever it's worth, at least I'm being consistent and making some progress. I think.

Anyhow, night Night y'all. I'm out for this one.


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