|And now for my next trick...
||[Mar. 13th, 2011|08:40 am]
Normally I don't feel the need to journal everything. Normally. But when you have an epic night like last night, you have to jot it down while the memories are fresh so you don't forget.|
Feeling exceptionally clever I thought I would send a message to a boy on 'Plenty Of Fish' yesterday. I have been talking to this certain boy off & on for a while, so I thought I would say hi. We sent messages back and forth all day while I was at work. He asked if I wanted him to come over after I got off work, I thought to myself "Self, that sounds like a bad idea waiting to happen." It was.
His call came shortly after 6pm. He was close by and I gave him directions to find my place. A few minutes later he knocked at my door. My heart got all racy because I was nervous. I answered it. He was cuter than his pictures. Average height, nice build, tan skin, long dark hair. I told him to make himself at home. He kicked his shoes off and started fiddling with the remote to the TV. I offered him a drink. "Help yourself!" I said. He mixed him a strong drink. He then pulled out a little green pot pipe and started smoking up. He smoked and smoked and drank and drank. I managed to get a drink in. I smoked a little. I was feeling no pain, but not messed up by a long shot.
My company kept trying to let my parrot out of his cage. I make a rule of never letting Kiwi out when I have really drunk company or if I am too fucked up myself. My new friend kept messing with the bird so I covered him up. He kept saying weird crazy shit, half under his breath so that I couldn't hear. He was playing Marilyn Manson videos on Youtube. He was flipping through channels on the TV. He was drinking. He was smoking more and more dope. Not knowing his tolerance I was starting to get nervous. He was acting kind of scary. Next thing I know dude is in the bathroom. He is throwing up. Retching...over and over. "Are you alright?" I ask. Yeah. He does this 3 more times. "Can I get into your mouthwash?" He inquires from the bathroom. "Help yourself!" I reply.
He comes out of the bathroom and proceeds to plop down on my bed. "I got some puke on my sleeve. " He takes his shirt off. Nice. He has a tattoo. Decent rack. I am not turned on in the slightest. The guy is drunk. "I have never been with a guy before" "Oh" is all I can say before the pants come off. I try to look away and act aloof. There is a somewhat cute nicely built horribly fucked up boy in my bed. Sigh. I know what I want to do, and I know what I should do. "It's getting late and I am pretty fucked up. Can I spend the night?" he asks. Not knowing exactly what to say, I mumble "sure."
Next thing I know he is on his side. "Do you have a puke bucket or something?" "Sure" I get him a big plastic mixing bowl to hurl in. "Can you give me a back rub?" Sure. I rub his back. His skin is soft. This is wrong. You know where backrubs lead. He was moving himself closer to me. Is he awake. I keep asking him if he is okay. "Are you alright?" "Yeah". His flesh feels so good under my hand. Warm. Soft. My hand glides all over his smooth skin. I want to do what he wants to do. I know its wrong but I don't care.
"Don't stop!" This is leading somewhere bad. I am more sober than him. I smoke some more pot. This still feels wrong. I rub some more. I can't tell if he is awake or not unless I stop touching him...then he squirms til I start again. His feet and legs try to make contact with me. He has his head hanging over the side of the bed. "I wrestled in high school, I struggled with Bulimia for years" he says. Oh god, I am so not into this. What is wrong with me. Cute naked boy. He wants it. He seems to be barely conscious...drifting in and out. I am starting to feel like a creeper. I give him one last rub down his back all the way down his leg to his toes. I slowly move from the bed to the sofa, grabbing a pillow on my way.
He is disappointed that I stopped. Offended. Don't I like him? Come back. He needs the practice. I just want to sleep. I curl up on the couch. He throws up again, this time into the bowl. He wraps his naked body up with a blanket and rolls with his back to me. He mutters things I can't quite understand...because his face is hanging over the side of the bed aiming at the puke bucket. I keep forgetting your name. "Karen?" It's a girls name, right? I sigh.
I sit awake all night. I am terrorized. Kiwi is terrorized. How do I get this guy to go? My neighbors downstairs are killing each other again. Oh God, the female one stomps up the stairs and knocks on my door. "Let me in, I need to use your phone." "Fuck No!" I ignore the knocking. He is still passed out. After an eternity, morning comes. After much dope smoking he finally dresses and I convince him to take off. He has to mess with the TV and play loud music videos first. Oh god, he turned on 'Aqua Teen Hunger Force' "I have to get to work." I feel bad, like I lead him on. I didn't. I don't think he understands. He leaves kind of standoffish. No hug goodbye. No look back. Still very awkward. He has quite a journey ahead of him. I hope he doesn't double back when I leave for work. I didn't have anything to offer him. No breakfast. I just needed him gone. I am not happy when I act this way.