Bent Words

Bent Words

April 14, 2010

Ya know, that's a bunch of bullshit, too (regarding my last post).

Not that I meant to merely spew a few lines of crap or anything but I guess it's just inaccurate. Sometimes, at least.

And perhaps what I wrote isn't wrong. Perhaps it is or was another facet of me. Perhaps it was just self defense. Maybe it was both.

But I'm not just some lackadaisical lady with nothing better to do than chill. Hang out. I'm not smooth as butter or slick as all that. That's not what I meant. I'm nervous and I'm hopeful. I'm curious and I'm giddy. I'm expectant and I'm wishful. And I've been ready and willing, too. It's just that I've been sort of forced into a sense of disregard (can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?) and complaisance. I have been asked to care but I have been shown that I can't expect the reciprocal. I have been asked to go all in with a party that has been nothing less than afraid of going all in with me. I have been asked to jump but it seems that when I do, I'm left looking back at him; wondering why he's still only dipping a hesitant toe into the water.

And sometimes it hurts too much to sit here and just know that. To know that I've been left out, left behind. I mean, completely. Sometimes I can let it go but every once in awhile wouldn't it be nice to know that there's someone who can't let me go?

So, in regards to my last post...

It was all just an accident. I started talking more regularly with someone whom I've known, whom I've been friends with, for years. In the past, it was just a "Hi, how are ya?" type of thing which occurred maybe once a month, if that. Then, we had something in common (the whole quitting smoking thing), and we began conversing more often. The trials and tribulations of quitting, the follies of our days, the random thoughts we shared with each other that no one else seemed to want to hear. We were just sort of pen pals, really. And then the parley increased...

Such a slow progression that we didn't even notice the elevation until we were nearly at the top.

There were phone calls and text messages. Photos exchanged and reliances built. He needed to vent and I needed to entertain myself (laid off for a half a damn year). We got a little addicted to something else. We got hooked on the attention we weren't getting from our respectful situations. Because, for me, it was so damned good to hear "How are ya today?" I didn't even realize how much I missed that until I heard it, after all these years -- someone asking after me. It was thrilling to toss around an innocent suggestion of flirtation or the implication of a compliment. How could I have known it would be so addicting?

But I knew the repercussions. I knew it wouldn't be in the best interest of all parties involved. To be asked after. To be inquired about. To just 'chill' together on a free evening. Still, that didn't really matter because I knew I was making someone else feel grand about themselves and they were making me feel grand about... me. Just me. And good company. Good laughter. Good right nows. And although the partnership contained nothing less than unoffending content, I knew it was bound to raise an eyebrow.

I guess the kiss did it.

(Yes, that was the proprietor of said 3/12 kiss)

That was the line we crossed.

Of course it's cut off at the knees now and we no longer speak. And I know it technically should not have happened but I got my kiss. I got my moment of grandeur. I got my little whistle-from-a-cute-boy-as-I-passed-by feeling. And I don't feel guilty about that at all. Because it's way more accurate that I haven't been testing the waters or seeking out stimulating situations. I haven't been test riding bikes or even kicking the tires. I've just been hanging out and sort of going with the flow, trying not to cause a stir. But every once in awhile you need a good kick in the ass by a really big f'ing horse to show you you can still get bruised. It might hurt a bit in the end but who wants to trot along in life without ever feeling a good gallop?


It's great to hang with the boys and be one of them. It's great to garner the next zing, discuss bikes while tossing back a few beers, argue over the logistics of a race course. It's wonderful to bullshit and take it all in stride. To discuss women as though I weren't one of them, to be flirted with as though I were the only one, to show up a boy when it comes to cornering or maintenance.

But it's euphoric to be kissed like there's no tomorrow. It's magical to be able to make someone quiver with a simple touch. It's amazing when you can make someone laugh with their entire being. It's wonderful to be asked after, sought for, looked at. It's beautiful to be seen. It's inexplicable to know, for sure, that you're not broken or beyond passion -- just a little neglected.

And to get to feel like that, just a for a day... I don't even know how to apologize for it.

I suppose that's what I meant...

Written at 10:29 p.m.