Yes, it’s late, but there are too many things to write about that I spent all day not writing about. I wonder if I should go chronologically, but I also think that maybe I should write what’s on my mind first, so this will be a story.
I haven’t had sex in a while, and I want to. There’s this boy that’s been flirting with me, it was quite obvious he wanted to sleep with me. I met him at work last semester and he is an international student from the country my parents are from, but he grew up in a very different, more privileged culture that contrasts the thoughts that come to my mind when I think of my parent’s home. Is he cute? I can’t say anymore. I guess he has good arms and he wasn’t ugly, so I’m sure I thought so. He was a good worker, had a cute smile, and was fun to mess with—decent person.
I was pretty positive this guy had his eyes on me for quite a while, and then in the past couple months he made it really obvious, but I acted stupid. We don’t have any shifts together right now so I said we should catch up. We planned for last night, Saturday, to go out, and in my mind, if it all went well we would do it.
I honestly felt nervous, and I was excited too. I kept trying not to think about it to not give myself expectations, but I was really excited. So, on Saturday, I went about my day. I slept in, and then I made an appointment to get my legs waxxed—I’d been meaning to do it and now it was urgent. Usually the way it works is after it’s done, the esthetician will leave you so you can put your pants back on. Usually most of the wax is gone (especially since I go to basically the best waxxing salon ever), but they’ll give you a cloth with oil of some sort to rub anything that feels sticky to you. The wax is a kind of bubble-gummy pink, and small dots of it will wear away, but in my head I needed it gone fast. I sat there scrubbing at any remaining wax so my legs looked flawless. I took rather long to come out and pay—I always feel extra sexy and a bit confident after I get my legs done.
I went to Target and Staples, did my shopping, returned back to my apartment, cleaned up, and asked him over text what the plan was. “Something special.” was the reply I got. I said I was hungry, but he needed a quick power nap. I knew he’d worked all day and didn’t get a lot of sleep so whatever. I had bought all my school supplies and was meticulously organizing stuff as I like to do, so I guess the time did pass. But 3 hours had passed. I had eaten a cookie and it became obvious we weren’t going out to get food. I think I ate something else but I was not very full nor did I eat properly. I texted him to wake up and he said to come over around 9. I was on Reddit so I procrastinated for a while, and then called my parents and we talked for a while, and then I headed over. I cut through the park so it was only a moments walk. I felt really nervous. I had changed my clothes several times and spent too much time on trying to make my make-up seem like it was well done but not that I’d wanted to look special or anything and then I did the same thing with my hair. I was nervous. It was around 10pm.
I should add this part. I texted my best buddy* about what I was doing and that I felt kind of weird about it especially since he didn’t take me out but I did want to have sex, and he said if it was him he would still go, but that’s him, and not me. So after a good while I told him I was going and would update him later.
*I’m not saying I have only one best friend or any best friends at all besides my mom, but it seems that I’ve developed a pattern where whenever I write about this person, I refer to him as my best buddy. So, I won’t give him another name, I’ll just say that we went to high school together, he was my first gay friend, we grew apart through high school, grew back together afterward like we should have been the whole time.
Anyway, I was nervous, but then I tried to kick up my confidence. He opened the door, introduced me to his flatmate, and then we sat on the couch together and talked for a while about what we did over winter break and other miscellaneous things. I figured at some point he would move closer to me, but he didn’t do that. Had I misinterpreted? Whatever. It was nice to catch up. He asked if I wanted something to drink. I said no, but then he came back with a Smirnoff Lemonade, and I tasted it and liked it. He said he bought it for me because he thought I might not like alcohol, but the thought that he had specifically bought a drink for me was kind of rattling. I, unfortunately, shook it off within a millisecond.
I drink slowly. Somewhere in the conversation I look over and he’s downed the entire thing, so I say, “whoa, slow down,” and I’m replied with a “catch up!” Then, it kind of came out of nowhere. I knew it was happening. “You have something…There’s something on your face,” “what? get if off.” And the abrupt grabbing of my chin toward his, and the reflex that pushed him away.
I couldn’t even look. I couldn’t believe he actually used that line. “What you, do you not want to kiss?” I mumbled something. He might have said something that hinted to that he had wanted to sleep with me, and I said that I knew, I wasn’t stupid. He asked if I wanted to cuddle first, and I just mumbled something and we went to his room and sprawled out. Also, everything I’m writing here is verbatim. It’s tattooed on my brain.
He asked if I liked Coldplay so he put on the new Coldplay song and I’m not sure exactly how it went, but I said to him that I wasn’t stupid and of course I knew he wanted this, I knew for a long time, and his words were “I just want to make sure you know my intentions.” Then I told him he was really lame for what he had done a few minutes ago, I told him to never, ever use that line again, and he laughed. I asked him how he usually does his “game” and he was confused. It wasn’t a very confusing question. I tried to give him tips, you know, make her comfy, have conversation, lean over, turn on a movie that forces you to turn off the lights, etc. He kept saying things like “what?” I kind of laughed at him, but looking back I’m not sure if I thought it was funny. He asked if I wanted another drink, but I pointed out I hadn’t even finished the first one. So I say “You’re not trying to get me drunk? Because that’s illegal, you know.” “Off Smirnoff Lemonade?! No!” But he said something along the lines of he would rather be drunk though, but I told him not to be and to stay there. “I’m not cool when I’m sober.” “You don’t know that.”
Literally this guy was making no moves, and then he tried to kiss me again but I wasn’t ready still, and his reaction is “what?! What do you want me to do.” Just talk, I guess that’s what I wanted. I signed into my Netflix and put on Master of None. The lights were off. “Do you want me to do this?” He put his arm around me and (I was lying stomach down), and reached underneath for my chest, and I wiggled away. He kind of laughed at himself. We talked. His arm was over my back but it felt off, like it wasn’t genuine. He put his hand up my shirt and I pushed him off, and once again, I got the same reaction. This happened several times. I told myself I could turn this around. I asked him about his dreams and his family and I won’t say it, but tbh, his dream sounded kind of stupid, but who am I to judge. It was another two sided conversation—I asked him questions but he didn’t return by asking me. I did grow the guts to say “you’re not gonna ask me how my semester is going?” “Oh, I’m sorry,” “No, it’s fine,” “No, really, how is your semester going.” I got into talking about my art supplies that I ordered for my painting class and how I’m so excited for it, and I started to feel good, but he ruined in. He lowered his hand way too far, at no point did I let go past the waist. I kind of turned over and he said how he likes me and he didn’t know what I wanted him to do, he pulled me back over. He kept saying he needed to be drunk, but I told him there was no reason and pulled him back when he tried to get up and get a drink.
Finally, he said he had to pee too, so he got up, and when he was in the bathroom I went back by the couch and snatched my phone from my purse and began texting my best buddy.
“This is gonna suck” (thinking about the sex). “I don’t know if I should stay”“God we have to talk about this later”
“That means you shouldn’t.”
“I don’t know”
“he’s kind of pushing me” (kind of?? I’m so stupid.)
“Leave, get up and leave.”
“I can’t do it (best buddy). he’s in the bathroom”
“Don’t think about it. Just go while he’s gone.”
“Want me to call you and act like you have to go??”
“No I don’t know if I want to leave”
“If he’s pushing you I think you should”
“Want me to call? Make sure you turn your volume down so he can’t hear me if you do”
I locked my phone because his attention was back on me. He had brought more drinks, and he was drinking again, and I didn’t like it. He said his flatmate was gone, and that was nice, and I thought maybe he had told his flatmate he was going to “get some.” It had been a long time for me though. I wanted it, physically.
For a moment I did move closer into him, and my forehead was on his chin, and it felt fine. I wanted to get back to this word “like.” I asked him if he liked me or he just wanted to sleep with me,” and he said, “well, what answer do you want?” I asked what he liked about me, and I feel like this was the turning point of the night, the part that hurts most.
“Well, I mean, I like your hair but you know that, I’ve told you that.” “Okay, what else.” “What else do you WANT me to say?” That wasn’t sexy. I was pulling away, he was frustrated. “You’re pretty. You have nice hair.” “Nothing else?” “You’re smart.” “I know that.” I was started to feel hurt. He starts again. “I mean I like your hair, it’s really pretty. You have pretty eyes. You have a good body. You won’t really let me see it though.” His hand is back under my shirt. He keeps asking if I’m hot, I’ve got to be too warm. Moves back to trying to touch my chest. He’s pushed away again. He’s frustrated with me. I start talking. “How much do you like me, like on a scale of 1 to 10,” “I don’t know, (my name), what do you want me to say? Do you want me to marry you?” “No!” I literally just shoved him. Twice. He laughed at me for it. I felt sick. This was a kid who grew up in a similar culture and understood that culture, so what was the hint? He had fantasized about this? Just wanted to have sex with me? I was brought back to nightmares of my talks with Bo in high school, and our own naïveté. I lie down, he keeps pushing me to do it, he puts his hand back under my shirt and I just let it go, and then he gets to my bra clasp, and I freeze. I’m not even able to shake him off right away like before. I’m lucky guys have no idea how to to undo those things, especially with one hand, but it was a millisecond away from coming off until I click back together and say “Stop!” and push him off. He laughs.
Here are a few other bits and pieces of things he said I just can’t put in order.
- “What’s so great about white girls?” -me. “Oh, where to start…”
- “Let’s just sleep.” -me. I was tired. “You mean like, do this, and then sleep?” He puts his hand under my shirt but I push him away.
- “I’ve liked you since the first day you came into work.” This was sweet for a short time, because I realized that no one can like someone at first sight, they can only like what they look like. This guy was carnal.
- “I mean, back (in the country), it was hard to get anything…” (trying to make me feel pity. It kind of worked, because I stayed longer than I should have).
- “You don’t really know me, you have no idea about me.” -me. “What is there to know?” “I’m fucked up, I don’t want to pull anyone in. You don’t understand how mad I am. I put on a face.” “We’re all a little fucked up, though.”
- “What do you think about…my superman boxers!” I did not realize he took his pants off. I was not impressed.
- “So, what do you want to do, do you want to date, do you just want to do this, I mean I have nothing against just having sex to have sex (this was the first time either of us, used the word sex all night—don’t know why I feel that’s significant) “Why don’t you tell me?” -his answer. I am silent. “Was that the wrong answer?” “If we do it once you’ll want to do it again,” is what I said, I probably said some other words too. “Well, it’s what you want to do. And why do you say that? Are you good?” I had his back to him, I don’t do anything, and then he kind of grabs me and kisses my back, and I don’t like it at all. This is also bait for me, because, well, I am good, and I think about what I did today for this and how I was excited for this and how I most likely WOULD rock his world, but at this point, I’m not even turned on.
I get him to pay attention to Master of None again. 11 minutes had passed since I texted my friend. “call me in five minutes.”
He does exactly that. He’s perfect. I’m perfect, I thought I couldn’t pull it off, but my buddy does actually say things like “I need you,” and the instinct pulls in, back to me saying “I’m here, I’m here, do you need me? Do you need me to come there? Okay, yeah, I’m right here, I’ll come right now.”
And I’m getting up, I hang up, and he goes “what the fuck? Where are you going?” I told him my friend needs me, and he says, “that was a guy on the phone!” It didn’t matter so I ignored this, I explained if my friends needed me I had to go, he couldn’t comprehend that. I have to go help him, and he says, “Fuck that guy.”
I am pissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I can’t do that.”
More whys, “When are we gonna get another night? This was supposed to be our night, he’s not important, I don’t get it” and I say, “what if he kills himself?” And this fucker laughs.
I’m standing up, he’s still laying on the bed, and I walk over him and I say “you have no idea about me. These are the kind of people I hang out with, okay? And when a friend calls, you go, because they’ll do the same for you.” (I think that’s verbatim) “I have tried to kill myself 3 times.” I think he wants to say something but I don’t know if it’s going to be a laugh or that he’s surprised, he did look kind of surprised but it was dark. I’m not going to let him get a word in though. “3 times, I’ve been in the hospital twice for this shit, I’ve tried to drown myself. That’s the kind of person I am. I am fucked up. You have no idea. You have no clue.”
My phone is vibrating. My buddy has sent a “want me to call again???” and I text back yet quickly and then look back at this asshole in front of me. My buddy calls again, I tell him I’m coming, I’ll be right there.”
I walk out, he doesn’t even come after me, so in something stupid I say, you’re not even gonna say goodbye?” So he comes out, and says “but will you come back after. This was our night!” Shit like that. He’s angry. I feel kind of scared. “No, probably not, I really have to go. I’m sorry. Maybe another night. We’ll make plans another night.” I give him a hug.
“I can’t believe this…This is fucking stupid.” -him. I go to the door, and I can’t get it open, so I say “(his name), open the fucking door for me? Does this door pull out or in?” My phone is ringing again, and I’m saying on the phone, yes yes, I’ll be right there, hang in there.”
“What a great analogy,” is the last thing he says, and the door closes and I start down the steps and I’m running and I’m transitioning into saying in the phone “I’ll be there, I’ll be there, to “it’s over, it’s over! Oh my God, I’m so stupid.” And I just cry. I told him thank you so many times, that I was so stupid, how could I have done this, he kept pushing himself on me, he kept going when I said to stop. I am so dumb, there were so many signs, I thought he was a decent person, I’m disgusting and thirsty and dumb. I can’t tell you exactly what my friend said but it was sassy and comforting and I am very lucky to have him as a friend.
I tell him I’ve gotten back, he says he’s here for me, I get back into the apartment, and get on my bed and start hitting it, and cry again. I don’t ever bawl though. This is not worth crying over, something keeps telling.
My first thought, of course, is to send a message to the person I consider to be one of my best friends here, who probably doesn’t think of me as one of this best friends, but I’m very, very lucky to have him. I always hate bothering him. So I send him a message that says “Hi. What are you doing. Are you at home. Are you with friends. Are you at work. Are you with friends. Miss you.”
I was right with the work thing, so he says he’ll “ttyl gotta go.” I think about ordering cookies, since he works at Insomnia Cookies. I pace for a while, I want to break things, I feel angry and frustrated and disappointed. I eventually send a message to another friend, one who I met last year and I having been becoming closer to her and her roommate. I ask if she’s out, she says she’s home, I say I had a bad night, she invites me over and says I can pet their cat. The walk was needed—it’s a long walk there. She opens the door and hugs me. I sit down with the two of them (she and her roommate). Her roommate was playing Simms. We just kind of sit there, my friend is so nice to me and puts her arm around me, I feel so lucky, the cat doesn’t love me but he’s so fun to observe. She asks if I want to talk about it, and eventually I do. They were happy I evacuated. I think I should have done it earlier. Either way, I got the fuck out and I’m okay now. They were such friends for me. I feel very lucky. I sleep on their couch. In the morning, I talk to my mom. My friend drives me back. I hadn’t slept well.
I get back and eat cereal and sit back on my bed and sleep again, and get up and eat more cereal, and this is pretty much how the day passed. The height of my day was doing laundry which I haven’t taken out of the dryer and going to CVS, and moving objects around in my room, and not really eating properly. I felt pissed off all day and couldn’t get it off my mind. The guy did text me in the morning. “hey babes.” and then the emoji that’s licking something—I hate this emoji so much. I was harassed in the past online by someone who kept sending me this emoji. Honestly, he’s now dead for me simply for the emoji. It continues:
“how are feeling” “on this fine morning”
I never replied. I thought a lot about my ex again, Bo, and this was the first time I was aching for him again in a while, but I will say it wasn’t the same, there wasn’t as much passion, I didn’t break and go online to spy on him. I thought about how he treated me like a queen, the center of the universe. I thought about the times I thought sex had ruined our relationship and how wrong I was and how I had no idea. I thought about how I had told him he sucked and that he had pushed me and that I knew it wasn’t true but how I had said it anyway. I thought about how I made him feel he was bad at sex when we were amazing—something I wrote about in an earlier piece. I thought about how I would never find that again. Never bawled. Just sobbed. I listened to a lot of music by Kings of Leon, and I felt the words screaming in me. I feel filled with flames.
Now, I lie here awake, feeling no better. It’s 2:30 am, and I have work in a few hours, and it won’t be good, because I feel panic. I feel that panic is coming for me.
Thank you, Reader, for getting this far.
I’ve been roaming around, always looking down, at all I see.