kissing a few more frogs
The only way to forget about how you feel for a guy is to go out with other guys. So I did.
Last week, I went out on two dates with two differents guys so that I wouldn't be thinking about the one I like who has a girlfriend. Call it therapy for not getting what I want.
The first date was with a jock -- basketball player, who felt like he was soooo famous that paparazzi would be following us and take our pictures. I don't think he wanted to be seen with me because shortly after meeting at Starbucks, he said he'd bring me home.
Ok, I realize I may not be his type, which is just fine. He wasn't my type, either. He was too tall for me. Standing at 6'5", he was a good 13 inches taller than me and I barely reached his shoulders in my heels. Besides, he had an inferiority complex about my Atenean education and he can barely stimulate my intellect.
It was in the car, when I realized that he wanted to make the "moves". At the first stop light, he started inching his face close to mine. His lips were probably two centimeters from mine when I uttered the question, "What do you think you're doing?"
I know it was really mean of me to embarass him that way, but he shouldn't have assumed I would fall at his feet and be one of his groupies. Goodness, I thought it would stop there. I mean, I gave him a let down that should have penetrated his dense head. But I guess, too much rough basketball playing caused him to be denser than most guys.
We were almost near home when he got my hand and put it in his lap. I removed it. He got it back and placed it on top of his crotch. Out of ire, I said, "Nothing's there." Implying, of course, that his manhood is invertly proportional to his towering height.
I guess that frustrated him. He suddenly shoved my hand inside his jeans.
WTF!
Thinking back, I should have done some damage to his crown jewels. I would have had I not been so offended by the smell. Urgh! It's enough to make anyone puke. I think I must have washed my hands 30 times that night.
Sweat from Basketball Practice + Boxer shorts + Jeans = THE WORST SMELL EVER!
I swear, didn't he even think of drying up before putting on his boxers???
On another day, I had a breakfast date with an old friend, someone I used to go out with. We decided to play hooky from work and attend some of the things I had to take care of prior to my cousin's wedding. He was glad to be my driver for the day.
Sometime during the day, he said he missed me, going out, kissing, and all. I think that was his line so that he could ask for a kiss. So he did. But I felt nothing.
Empty. I didn't even feel compelled to respond back mechanical.
"You're in love with him," he said.
"I can't be," I denied. "No. Impossible."
"Honey," he said, "what do you think this is then?"
"I really can't be," I persisted. "I only know him for a short time and he has a girlfriend. No!"
"Time and the girlfriend do not change the fact that you're in love with him," he consoled me.
I love kissing. I'm good at it, I've been told. I even know the techniques of how to make good kisses. I can kiss someone even if I don't have any feelings for them. But for the past two dates, I didn't feel like it. I didn't even want to kiss them. I can't believe I didn't respond. Not even mechanically.
I can't believe Mark stole my kisses. Rather, my ability to kiss without considering emotions for the person I'm kissing.
The few kisses Mark and I shared humbled me. I knew I was good but the feelings of our first kissed overwhelmed me beyond my rationale thought. It was the most passionate kiss I have ever experienced in my whole life. The kind that sends shivers on your spine, makes your knees weak, leaves you breathless and wanting for more. It could have been the foot-popping kiss had we been standing up.
For the first time in my life, I realize what my friends meant when they said they couldn't kiss someone they don't have any feelings for.
Last week, I went out on two dates with two differents guys so that I wouldn't be thinking about the one I like who has a girlfriend. Call it therapy for not getting what I want.
* * *
The first date was with a jock -- basketball player, who felt like he was soooo famous that paparazzi would be following us and take our pictures. I don't think he wanted to be seen with me because shortly after meeting at Starbucks, he said he'd bring me home.
Ok, I realize I may not be his type, which is just fine. He wasn't my type, either. He was too tall for me. Standing at 6'5", he was a good 13 inches taller than me and I barely reached his shoulders in my heels. Besides, he had an inferiority complex about my Atenean education and he can barely stimulate my intellect.
It was in the car, when I realized that he wanted to make the "moves". At the first stop light, he started inching his face close to mine. His lips were probably two centimeters from mine when I uttered the question, "What do you think you're doing?"
I know it was really mean of me to embarass him that way, but he shouldn't have assumed I would fall at his feet and be one of his groupies. Goodness, I thought it would stop there. I mean, I gave him a let down that should have penetrated his dense head. But I guess, too much rough basketball playing caused him to be denser than most guys.
We were almost near home when he got my hand and put it in his lap. I removed it. He got it back and placed it on top of his crotch. Out of ire, I said, "Nothing's there." Implying, of course, that his manhood is invertly proportional to his towering height.
I guess that frustrated him. He suddenly shoved my hand inside his jeans.
WTF!
Thinking back, I should have done some damage to his crown jewels. I would have had I not been so offended by the smell. Urgh! It's enough to make anyone puke. I think I must have washed my hands 30 times that night.
Sweat from Basketball Practice + Boxer shorts + Jeans = THE WORST SMELL EVER!
I swear, didn't he even think of drying up before putting on his boxers???
* * *
On another day, I had a breakfast date with an old friend, someone I used to go out with. We decided to play hooky from work and attend some of the things I had to take care of prior to my cousin's wedding. He was glad to be my driver for the day.
Sometime during the day, he said he missed me, going out, kissing, and all. I think that was his line so that he could ask for a kiss. So he did. But I felt nothing.
Empty. I didn't even feel compelled to respond back mechanical.
"You're in love with him," he said.
"I can't be," I denied. "No. Impossible."
"Honey," he said, "what do you think this is then?"
"I really can't be," I persisted. "I only know him for a short time and he has a girlfriend. No!"
"Time and the girlfriend do not change the fact that you're in love with him," he consoled me.
* * *
I love kissing. I'm good at it, I've been told. I even know the techniques of how to make good kisses. I can kiss someone even if I don't have any feelings for them. But for the past two dates, I didn't feel like it. I didn't even want to kiss them. I can't believe I didn't respond. Not even mechanically.
I can't believe Mark stole my kisses. Rather, my ability to kiss without considering emotions for the person I'm kissing.
The few kisses Mark and I shared humbled me. I knew I was good but the feelings of our first kissed overwhelmed me beyond my rationale thought. It was the most passionate kiss I have ever experienced in my whole life. The kind that sends shivers on your spine, makes your knees weak, leaves you breathless and wanting for more. It could have been the foot-popping kiss had we been standing up.
For the first time in my life, I realize what my friends meant when they said they couldn't kiss someone they don't have any feelings for.
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