The whole way back, he can't look me in the eye. Or he won't, whichever. At a certain point, it becomes the same thing.
I ask him if he wants to be alone. I ask him if he wants to be distracted. I ask him how he's feeling. He's stressed and overwhelmed and having trouble processing. He can't be distracted. He doesn't want me to go.
But he keeps not looking at me and it's starting to make me feel bad. I mean, I'd understand if he wanted to be alone, but if not, he should act like I'm there. Right? Right.
We get to his apartment and he gives me some juice. We sit on the couch. I sniffle. He puts his arm around me. We snuggle. I cry. I take off my glasses. I blow my nose. We drink our juice.
Snuggling turns into holding, and sitting together turns into lying together. Ah. I know this feeling. We lie in each other's arms, drawing all the comfort we can from our mutual sadness. Suddenly I can feel his erection...either incredibly well or incredibly poorly placed, depending on your perspective and your ideas of appropriateness.
To me, it feels damn good even as I feel horrible.
His breathing grows rougher as I start to plant little kisses on his neck, his cheek, his shoulder. His arms start to explore, tighten around me, pull me closer. Holding becomes groping and I don't know how we get from lying together to me straddling him, my pants undone, my belt removed, his shirt open. I move in to kiss him and he turns his face away ever so slightly. My lips land on his cheek, but I give him a look. He responds with, "I don't want to kiss you right now."
Another look. This time his response is an exaggerated shrug implying that he doesn't quite get it either.
All I can think is, "Who the hell doesn't want to kiss me?" At a time like this, arrogance and sex appeal are all I have.
He starts to kiss my neck and shoulder. I stroke his chest a bit and he sighs. "That makes me feel so relaxed."
Huh. Why do you get to feel relaxed when I'm stressing out, feeling like crap, you couldn't look me in the eye and now you won't kiss me? What exactly do you think is going to happen here? Exactly how cheap do you think I am?
I rest my cheek on his shoulder, facing away from him. I sit like that until he asks me what's wrong.
"I'm feeling kinda shitty right now."
"What happened?" He seems genuinely surprised.
He gets another look. That's three.
"Oh...right."
I cry a bit more. We hold each other a bit more. He starts to talk about her and what he's going to tell her. I don't really want to hear it. It becomes clear that he wants me to go once it's clear to him that we're not gonna have sex.
"Are things always going to be fucked up between us?" I ask him.
"Yeah...pretty fucked up." He sees my face and is quick to hug me. "We'll work it out."
I fasten my pants and find my belt. At least he can look me in the eye now.
"Sorry about your belt," he says. "Conflicting intentions."
I don't ask what the conflict is, exactly. I just need to go.
Our hug goodbye is full of thwarted desire, affection, sweetness and tension. I'm struck by how much we like each other and how that feels so wrong right now. Feeling angry at him is easier right now than dealing with the bigger situation. There'll be time enough for that later.
And still, all I can think is, "Who the hell doesn't want to kiss me?"
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