First off, I'd like to that Mr. Steven Colbert for that quote. There will never be a man that holds as much respect (from me) in the world (of news).
Actually, that was completely unnecissary.
Let's get down to brass tacks. This is a tale about a young(ish) man who did something that he's not too proud of. And, I (he) knows the only person he can really talk to is....um, well somewhere else.
Last night, I went to the bar with a woman that I fancy quite a lot. One might say I'm infatuated, others might say it's an animal lust, and still others might say that god exists. They'd almost all be true.
Sorry, last night I went to the bar with someone I fancy quite a lot. We've been flirting back and forth at work, with the unnecissary physical contact, prolonged eye contact and the rest of the steps that fall into the ritualistic dance that is the forced akward intimate situation known as dating, or more accurately the week or so leading up to dating. All signs were pointing to yes, including two huge blue neon one's. Damn, those eyes.
So, we're at the bar, dancing away. (for I know she could only resist for so long once the dancing started). We're dancing away, when she asks me to go for a smoke and leads me outside. "Oh goody" I think as I follow. But to my dismay (in hindsight, to my great joy) there's no vehicular sex involved, only talking. The talking is of a young man, another young man. One that she's been dating for 2 years.
There aren't words to describe how I felt. Crushed by the gravitational weight of a thousand icy-cold suns might be the best possible english depiction of how I felt. Couple that with a hundred memories that instantly confused the shit out of me. Why dance with me when you already have a permanent partner? I am good though. Sorry.
Now, the alcohol lessened this blow slightly, so I finished my smoke and went inside to dance again. For there is nothing on earth that can hurt me when I'm dancing. Any emotion I feel is overshadowed by the flow. It consumes me. And, the bar we were at was like a gathering place for dancers. I made a bit of a spash.
So, I'm dancing away when she comes back and decides that she'd still like to dance with me. Really dance this time, not emotional hell-like dancing. So we're dancing away and happened to make eye contact. I don't know why I did it, I was drunk after all. Maybe it was to prove a point, maybe to see what kind of person she really was, but I kissed her. Long and well. It was a nearly perfect kiss. Then, I just up and left the bar without saying a word.
The main reason that I did this post was so that I'd have another post in here as I haven't been posting very much, but it's also because it's the first time I've ever kissed someone that was dating someone else that I was aware of.
And in doing so, I've been attempting to figure out who's to blame here aside from me, because when it boils down to it; isn't she as much at fault as me? If not more? And furthermore Susan, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to learn that all four of them habitually smoke marijuana cigarettes. Reefers.
Actually, that was completely unnecissary.
Let's get down to brass tacks. This is a tale about a young(ish) man who did something that he's not too proud of. And, I (he) knows the only person he can really talk to is....um, well somewhere else.
Last night, I went to the bar with a woman that I fancy quite a lot. One might say I'm infatuated, others might say it's an animal lust, and still others might say that god exists. They'd almost all be true.
Sorry, last night I went to the bar with someone I fancy quite a lot. We've been flirting back and forth at work, with the unnecissary physical contact, prolonged eye contact and the rest of the steps that fall into the ritualistic dance that is the forced akward intimate situation known as dating, or more accurately the week or so leading up to dating. All signs were pointing to yes, including two huge blue neon one's. Damn, those eyes.
So, we're at the bar, dancing away. (for I know she could only resist for so long once the dancing started). We're dancing away, when she asks me to go for a smoke and leads me outside. "Oh goody" I think as I follow. But to my dismay (in hindsight, to my great joy) there's no vehicular sex involved, only talking. The talking is of a young man, another young man. One that she's been dating for 2 years.
There aren't words to describe how I felt. Crushed by the gravitational weight of a thousand icy-cold suns might be the best possible english depiction of how I felt. Couple that with a hundred memories that instantly confused the shit out of me. Why dance with me when you already have a permanent partner? I am good though. Sorry.
Now, the alcohol lessened this blow slightly, so I finished my smoke and went inside to dance again. For there is nothing on earth that can hurt me when I'm dancing. Any emotion I feel is overshadowed by the flow. It consumes me. And, the bar we were at was like a gathering place for dancers. I made a bit of a spash.
So, I'm dancing away when she comes back and decides that she'd still like to dance with me. Really dance this time, not emotional hell-like dancing. So we're dancing away and happened to make eye contact. I don't know why I did it, I was drunk after all. Maybe it was to prove a point, maybe to see what kind of person she really was, but I kissed her. Long and well. It was a nearly perfect kiss. Then, I just up and left the bar without saying a word.
The main reason that I did this post was so that I'd have another post in here as I haven't been posting very much, but it's also because it's the first time I've ever kissed someone that was dating someone else that I was aware of.
And in doing so, I've been attempting to figure out who's to blame here aside from me, because when it boils down to it; isn't she as much at fault as me? If not more? And furthermore Susan, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to learn that all four of them habitually smoke marijuana cigarettes. Reefers.