• It was nice

    by  • September 29, 2013 • * Safe for Work *, Confusion • 0 Comments

    Dear you,

    Things weren’t exactly simple, but they made sense to me. So what did I expect? I’m a teenager after all. Hell, I’m a female at engineering school! Even so, I had a picture in my head of what things were going to be. I wasn’t going to follow the norm. Go to school. Get a job. Get married. Have children. No. That wasn’t going to be my future. Yes I was going to college, and yes I wanted a job, but no husband, no people. It was easier that way. I could deal with it that way. People are too confusing. Not like anybody would want me anyways. I’m too fat, too socially awkward, too squeamish towards sex, too innocent, too different, too…..me. I was going to live alone, well, not quite alone. I would have cats. I like cats. Cats are easy. They aren’t like people. A cat won’t hate you because you are fat. A cat won’t hate you because you are socially awkward. A cat won’t hate you because you are squeamish towards sex, innocent or different. A cat will hate you because it is a cat. And I can deal with that. Me, some cats, some books, maybe a few friends, but that was it. That was all I needed to be happy. Then you ruined it all.

    It started as nothing. Well, I thought it was nothing, but that could just be my innocence speaking. Watching TV in the next room, I suddenly found myself in your arms. You were warm, your embrace was gentile. You laughed when I covered my ears for the sex parts, and covered my eyes with your hand until they were over. We were just sitting, and…it was nice. If I concentrate hard, I can still feel your hand tracing my cheek and jaw. Your hand wasn’t soft or rough, it was just right, and…it was nice. You played with my fingers, and almost held my hand, and….it was nice. Everything was nice, and for some reason, I was happy. I barely knew you, and still barely know you, but your hand on my face still brings me warmth. I found myself in your arms a few more times, once by accident, once by surprise, once by being pushed, and once on my own. It was then that I knew there was a problem, but I didn’t know how severe. When everyone else left, and it was just you and me, I still relished in the warmth of your arms, and….it was nice. I could hear and almost feel your heart beat, it was like a drum, and…it was nice. You got up for a moment and closed the door, and I let you. You said a few jumbled words about confusion, and I thought nothing of it. Then your lips were on mine, and….it was nice. My mind went briefly blank; such a rare thing at engineering school, and…it was nice. Suddenly my lips were moving with yours, and things started to rush in my mind, but I tried to push them back, and then your lips found my neck. The kisses were light and left me breathless, and goose bumps rose on my skin. My heart fluttered like a caged bird, and everything in my mind was just gone, and…it was nice. It wasn’t until several minutes later that I came to my senses and escaped.

    I ran to the room of the one that pushed me. Everything that had left my brain came flooding back, and came in a flood of words out of my mouth and into her ears. And she listened. She laughed at some of it, almost cried at others. She sat there with me for over an hour, listening, consoling, joking, and caring. I said more than I should have, and I am sorry about that, but there was a bit of a weight off of my chest, and….it was nice. She gave me advice. So did another friend who had often listened, so had one that I barely knew, and one that I know like I know myself. And yet I knew nothing.

    A few days later I came to deliver a book. I don’t know what I expected until I was invited in. we spoke for a while, and then your face was getting closer to mine. Then our lips met again, and…it was nice. I escaped quickly that time. The lips only found my neck twice, and…it was nice. Too nice. That’s probably why I ran. I knew that we needed to talk, as did you. Even so, we waited for two entire days. Maybe that was just me delaying the inevitable. We sat down and discussed. You weren’t ready. You had some bad relationships and weren’t able to move on yet. I knew that I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was like a pathetic child. I didn’t think that I could take it, the kindness, the softness of the kisses, the warmth of the arms, the caring behind it all. I’m not used to being wanted or cared about. I didn’t say this. I just said that I wasn’t ready either. I wasn’t ready at all, but secretly, if you had asked, I would have said yes anyways, maybe because I wasn’t used to being wanted, and…it was nice.

    I had thought that I had moved on from all of this; that my life was just going to be nice and peaceful, living in a little house with a lot of books, and some cats who I adored, who probably hated me. Everything was going to be simple again. And then it wasn’t. Randomly, you would appear in my thoughts and daydreams. Randomly you would be holding me again. Randomly, the lips would once again find mine, or the soft skin on my neck, and it was not ok.

    I blamed the one who pushed me. I even blamed you a little bit, but that does not change the fact that this, all of this, was entirely my own fault. I didn’t move the first time I found myself in your arms. I didn’t object when it happened again and again. I did not leave after the movies; I did not object to the closed door, and possibly the biggest fault of all, I kissed back. I allowed myself to be caught up in the blankness of my head and the beating of the drum of your heart, and….it was nice. I allowed myself to be cared for, and I allowed myself to be not taken. I allowed you to ruin me, and I don’t even know if I regret it. All I know is that where simplicity used to reside is now a chaotic place and that where I once knew what I wanted no longer exists, and no matter what I would like to think, I am ruined, and it is entirely my fault.


    Related Post

    Leave a Reply