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hooked on a feeling

i must be violating a hundred rules by writing about this here and now for him to see. but i have to talk about it. i need to talk about it. and it hardly seems fair to withhold the knowledge of my happiness from the one who bestowed it upon me. so, if he never calls again, that's what i get for breaking the rules. i like my life of open honesty and i refuse to play those games. fuck the consequences.

my whole day had already been a surreal movie of life (as opposed to the real thing). somehow, that ridiculously analytical part of my brain shut off and i stopped thinking about every little thing. i just sat back and watched myself play the part of happy young woman.

so when he called, it wasn't the typical me that answered. and it certainly wasn't the typical me that agreed to the adventure. it wasn't a whim. it wasn't an inability to say no. it was something to do with someone i like. it was what normal people do every day.

he offered to pick me up and i knew this was the right decision. i left myself no option to revert back that other me. i would be stranded there at his mercy. i would be forced to enjoy what there was to enjoy, with no option to run in fear. i may not have really liked my life as it was, but i was definitely comfortable with it. and comfort is hard thing to let go of.

i don't know what i expected. i honestly think i didn't expect anything. we hadn't talked in months. we'd only met twice before. there wasn't a lot to go on. besides, normal people don't run through every scenario and determine probabilities. they go. they have fun. they live. so that's just what i did.

he took my hand to lead me on a tour of his apartment. i'm not sure if i find that romantic or anything, but it's an intimate gesture--like using people's names when you talk to them in conversation. the act doesn't have to mean anything, per se, but it adds a new level of connection and importance to the situation. besides, do you know how long it had been since i'd even touched another human being on purpose? a month. this wasn't something that bothered me, or even crossed my mind, until i realized how much i liked being touched by him. it's like i suddenly remembered that there were good people in the world too and not just these sleazy, drunken assholes of my recent social encounters.

it's obvious, but i just now came to see that all the things i do to keep the bad people at bay prevent the good ones from getting near (or staying close) as well.

but there, in his rooms and his hallways, it just felt good to hold hands. and on his couch it just felt good to schnuggle. so close i felt the heat of his body and heard the beats of his heart. i watched his chest rise and fall as each breath wafted over me. it felt good to hear him laugh and actually listen to what he was saying.

i've been living my life in this bubble. teachers, classmates, waitresses, cashiers--none of them phase me. they don't touch me. i can barely see or hear them. they're unremarkable. they all just blend into this seamless blur of disposable interactions.

but here is a night i will remember.

and, jesus, the sleep. the sweet release and total stillness! even my space-age swedish sleep technology can't hold a candle to that. i will never get used to sleeping alone, and especially not after nights like these. and, anyway, i don't really want to. i'm ready to share my bed again.

and i'm ready to share my life again, to be a part of the world around me again.

bubble burst... amanda!

yeah, i'll get burned. it's inevitable. but i'll enjoy myself in the meantime.

Comments

surjay
Oct. 2nd, 2004 12:49 pm (UTC)
That hand holding will do it every time.

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