Friday, December 9, 2011

Part 3 of ?

Where we we?  Oh, yes.  Curious about kissing girls, and trying to figure out if it would condemn me forever.

Let me set up a cliche scene for you:
It's Easter weekend, and V and I are visiting her parents' house.  Friday was her mom's birthday; Sunday was Easter; it was Saturday night, and we were asleep in the twin bed she'd had since childhood.  After we'd been talking awhile, she asked if there was anything I'd do, if I knew it wouldn't change anything.  My brain immediately interpreted it, correctly, as, "I want to kiss you, but I'm terrified of screwing things up."

I called her out on what she meant.  We spent probably close to an hour discussing everything: what if she felt one way afterward, what if I felt another, what could all possible outcomes be, what damage could this potentially do to our friendship.  And then, we made out for ten minutes.  My world went on fire, and I thought something between "Ohmygod that was heaven" and "&$#*, I'm #*$&*ed."  She admitted it was hot.  I thought she said that she was hot under all the covers, and wilted inside, until she realized that I must not have understood, and repeated herself.

We didn't talk about it again.  On the drive home, we stopped to eat, and when I accidentally tried to get her some condiment she didn't need, I commented how I could never remember what she did and didn't like.  "I can't keep you straight," were my exact words; we laughed nervously.

The next month was awkward.  She pulled away.  I tried to pull closer.  She became homophobic.  I got clingy.  She tried to cheer me up one day, when I was having a crying spell, by kissing me.  It made everything better and worse.  I had no idea what was happening.

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