CONTINUATION OF ‘ACTNG OUT (PART 1)’:
i wasn’t drinking. i had to wake up early the next day for work stuff (and a 12:15 appt that i’ll tell you about later), and i knew better than to get swept away by a boy, let alone one i’d only JUST met, and ruin my life- even if my definition of ‘ruining my life’ is being sleepy for a meeting, it’s still cause for resentment, and i don’t let that happen anymore. i like to take care of me first- which ultimately gives the relationship in question the BEST shot it can have. he was leaving the bar and asked me if i wanted to go to some club that he and his friends were going to, i said i couldn’t. but as we walked outside, his friends went one way and he just kept walking with me. or maybe they were never there. maybe he was gonna meet up with them? who knows? i can’t remember, but i’m so honest and detail oriented i want to be exact with you. we walked down the street in the direction of my hotel. he told me some exciting news about his friend. i wasn’t sure if it was real or if he was just making bullshit talk. gawd. my self awareness/over-thinking/and trust issues can really kill the mood/be detrimental. at least i kept this thought to myself though. one of few.
he asked me if i wanted to pop into a club we were passing. i said ‘sure, I’ll have a peek inside’. i mean, as long as i wasn’t drinking i could peek inside a club for like fifteen minutes tops! as soon as we walked in, the music was blaring and as if i were with my best male platonic friend (who, btw, was off gallivanting somewhere else in nyc, doing god knows what. we weren’t sharing a hotel anymore, so i was off on my own, with a hotel room all to myself too! i couldn’t wait to give my male bff the recap of the adventures i was collecting. oh, and to hear his or whatevs. even though our dynamic is very much a me sorta listening to him, but really just waiting to speak kinda thing… and he totally indulges me! cuz that’s what true friendship is all about, right?) i started dancing like a crazy lil kid. super unselfconscious. i was so proud of myself. i could have so easily turned inward and been shy and stunted by fear and a need for this guy to like me and not judge me. which is funny, cuz i feel like the person who doesn’t dance is way more of a dork and more likely to be judged harshly than the person who doesn’t give a fuck. but fear is a real thing and affects people. thank god i wasn’t that person that night. and very rarely am. we danced. he danced like a silly little kid too. it was epic. i could see in his face that he was so happy i wasn’t some girl who’s too self conscious. we danced for exactly fifteen minutes, grabbed our stuff and got the fuck out of there. except for us, it was filled with a Kardashian vibe meets Jersey shore esque crew. there IS a difference. it’s subtle, but it’s real.
as we continued our walk towards my hotel, i muttered this and that. shit about my height and nonsense like that. i get very self conscious and vocal about being taller than a guy. i don’t like it. i’m 5’11 and i want the boys/men/guys i date to be my height or taller. he was taller than me, but maybe his being so thin made me second guess his height. either way, there was no need for me to be so vocal about all the chatter in my brain, but my filter isn’t up to code and i am a compulsive over-sharer because of it. geeze, what happened to that unselfconscious girl in the club only seven minutes prior? who knows? i’m comprised of many different parts. and as i blabbed, and as i occasionally, finally shut the fuck up, and as i nervously sat in the uncomfortableness of that silence/cuz silence can be so very uncomfortable/and just looked over at him while i smiled occasionally, i thought- wow, he’s gorgeous. i wonder if he likes me. this is really nice. all the while wondering when we’d kiss.
at one point i got super self conscious of my nose running, i have horrible allergies, and i told him that i might have to look in my mirror to make sure my nose was ok and that he should avert his eyes, cuz i was not proud of the fact that i felt compelled to look at myself. but before i allowed myself to grab my compact from my purse, he told me i was fine. and i believed him. he was so solid in the delivery of that sentence. he was so all knowing and way more centered and calm than me. booze? no. maybe he was always this calm cool and collected? he said my face was fine. everything was in order. and that it wouldn’t matter: if there was something on my face, if i was missing a finger… it wouldn’t matter. i loved how confident he was. i loved that he made me feel like a girl. ‘really?’ i said. ‘yeah. should i bite off your finger to prove it?’ i said ‘ok.’ and put my hand in his. he put my finger in my mouth and bit down… lightly. we looked at eachother, and then he gave me back my finger. that was one of my favorite moments.
somehow he turned into me and gently pushed me against a wall to kiss me. i worried it wasn’t good. again, i was too in my head. i thought about the size of his mouth, his lips. wondering if he was happy with the kiss, wondering if he’d think it was my fault if it wasn’t epic. but then i just shushed my brain and just kissed him. i was in nyc making out with a beautiful boy. we continued walking. i took his hand as we passed a bench and pulled him down to sit next to me. we kissed there. people walked past us. we got back up and walked some more. i was nervous to hold his hand cuz i was scared he wouldn’t let me, or be weirded out by it, or try to get out of it, or think i liked him too much or was coming on to strong, or was annoying or clingy or needy or thinking this was something that it wasn’t and would never be. i go out of my way to think for everyone involved. can you tell? in a perfect world, or just a future me, i’d like to just do what i want to do and take the chance of being vulnerable and not worry about it and just wait and see how the other person reacts. then i’ll see who i’m dealing with. then i’ll let the person show who they are, instead of me thinking for them/deciding for them. it’s getting to be too much for me. i want it to stop! but, all that aside, we continues kissing. this youthful, romantic, ‘who knows where the night will take you… oh wow, now i’m kissing a stranger as i meander the streets of soho’ was exactly what i needed. something innocent and sweet that made me feel like i was sixteen again. and then we were at my hotel.
i was half not wanting him to come upstairs and half wanting him to. i thought maybe i could get away with just having him walk me to my hotel room door? we kissed in the elevator. and before i knew it i was letting him into my room. ahhh! i wanted him there, but i was so not ready for this. i was so at odds with myself cuz i wanted to be responsible and get enough sleep for the meetings i had the following day. immediately as we walked in , i saw my bff had left the most horrific portrait of the two of us that we’d had done in central park the day before, prominently displayed leaning againg the wall! i covertly turned it around before dude could notice. i mean, who cares? but i cared.
i climbed on the bed, he climbed on top of me, his hat falling off. wow, this guys hair really was curly. i was wearing stockings. sometimes i feel like these are a life saver in slowing things down during a makeout sesh/sexy time rendezvous. one more layer to take off. the funny thing is though, dude wasn’t wearing undies, which i’ve noticed a couple boys i’ve rolled around with don’t do. which i think is sexy- but my platonic male bff thinks is gross cuz it makes your jeans smell bad since everybody knows you don’t fucking wash your jeans (#rookiemistake.com) and my bff ALSO thinks a guy wearing undies (he’s not gay, by ‘guy’ he means himself in the scenario) is sexier because it means biding your time and (just like how i feel about my stockings) it’s one more layer to remove, prolonging sexy time adventures. what do you prefer? i like dirty young dudes (‘dirty’ in the sexually nasty sense of the word) who don’t give a fuck and the minute you unbutton their jeans, their dick is all hard and right there! it’s sooo fucking sexxxay! either that or calvin klein undies. but that’s neither here nor there, my bff just doesn’t understand. we’ll have to agree to disagree. i mean, he’s not gay so, he doesn’t really even have to worry about it. unless he comes across some girl in jeans who never wears undies. would that be just as gross?? why or why not? ANYWAYS!
We flopped onto the bed and started kissing. I was wearing a short dress and stockings. He unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants, but I kept everything on. It wasn’t gonna be that kind of night. I mean, it was, but it wasn’t. I was so conflicted about having invited him into my hotel room- knowing I didn’t want to have sex with him. Or not that I didn’t want to/i just wasn’t gonna. I know these were mixed signals to a boy. But isn’t ‘just making out’ allowed anymore? Everything moves so fucking fast. And I definitly don’t help slow it down. I just wanted to kiss and roll around and continue talking and being around him. He seemed so wise beyond his years, and from what he told me about his past, and his parents, and his work, I was intrigued by who he was/might be- considering all he’s experienced. Plus he looked like he was straight out of ‘the warriors’. He had this quiet intensity, but not the kind where it turns out the dude has nothing going on in his brain after all. i could just tell he was smart and special.
After some more kissing and boobie suckling and him trying over and over again to touch, kiss, lick my privates- he told me I seemed ‘sooooo stressed’. I said ‘why? how come? How was I supposed to look? Like this?’ Then I pretended to pass out with my tongue sticking out of the side of my mouth. Of course I was stressed. I’d invited a stranger into my hotel room, it was late, and I had so much to do the next day. I tried to loosen up, mentally not vaginally, and live in the moment. I remembered to breath. I said ‘you caught me on the wrong day’. I realized by the expression on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about. Either that, or I think he thought I meant I was having my period (which I wasn’t). I told him that my therapist had recently told me I should try to slow down how fast I move sexually (which was/is completely true). And it was (kinda) gonna start with him.
He flipped over, off of me, in mock exasperation. I smiled and said ‘Is this a guys worst nightmare; Being half naked, laying in a bed with a girl and then she starts talking about her therapist?’ if i were a dude; it would be, could be, might be. or maybe i’d think it was adorably charming! He laughed. He didn’t mind. he said he liked the challenge of sexxing me. He seemed intrigued and confused by me. Then we spooned. During moments of silence, I burst out saying ‘I need you to know how hard it is for me NOT to talk.’ He told me to talk, that he likes talking.’ And as simple and ridiculous as that sentence was, it made me feel so happy… Cuz I love to talk way toooo much about all the nonsense going on in my brain. Especially laying in bed with a boy (if we’re not kissing or sexxxing, and sometimes even then). So we talked. We talked about his family, and a friend of his I’d met earlier at the bar, and his work, etc.
Really, what I think i needed all along was this: intimacy. i needed to be next to someone. i needed to be in someones arms, in a pg 13 type manner. so we talked and laughed and kissed and he pretended to explain to my therapist why I should have sex with him. it was super cute. I just laughed. He really was goodlooking. I think he said something about being in la in the next few months, but I rolled my eyes in typical self defense mode to let him know I wasn’t falling for that or I wasn’t gonna look forward to it or some nonsense like that or whatever the fuck I was doing. It was 3am and after putting it off over and over again, I said he really did have to leave cuz I had to wake up so early (it woulda been impossible for me to relax and get real sleep if he spent the night). He kissed me, and said it wasn’t easy for him to leave me. and in the spirit of beginning to let myself be vulnerable and just allow myself to be soft and not always on the defense, i told him it wasn’t easy for me to say goodbye to him either and that i had such a nice time. we made some silly facebook jokey banter about how he’d friend me on facebook. And I leaned out the door and said, ‘I’m at friendship capacity, so write me a message first and I’ll friend you‘. modern romance, 2011 styles. And then I went to sleep… Having not had sex with a relative stranger in New York City. Phew! I did it! My therapist would be so proud.