Stupid temptress update.
OK, this is starting to suck.
Last night was another rager with Mr. Co-worker. We both had to write concert reviews of the Arcade Fire. I met CW at the show, along with some of his friends. One of the friends, a girl, gave me a thorough once-over when we were introduced - she is pals with CW's girlfriend. I caught her giving me the stinkeye once or twice during the evening.
Anyway, we ended up getting roaring drunk during the show, then piling into a car and getting dumped off at a bar on the other side of town. I was squished against CW the entire ride, but too drunk to get very excited about it.
We got kicked out of the bar at closing time and tried desperately to get a cab for yours truly in the windy cold. We jumped up and down on the sidewalk, yelling, laughing, waving and, of course, hugging. After 20 minutes of failure, he offered his living room couch. I happily accepted, and we trudged through the icy streets to his apartment.
Once there, we continued blabbing away for a few minutes before going outside for a pre-bed smoke. His girlfriend appeared to still be out and about with her friends. After smoking, we went inside and sat on the couch for a few minutes. I'm a little hazy on what happened next...
Somehow we ended up in another hug, but hands were wandering, there were sighs...I remember him disentangling himself and standing up, but still holding my hand...The last thing I recall is him standing over me and covering me with a blanket, then sitting for a second by my legs before leaning over and kissing me on the forehead. I think I smiled, then he stood up and bent down to give me another gentle forehead kiss as he went off to bed.
In the morning I discovered that his girlfriend hadn't gone out with her friends, and had, in fact, stayed home because of a screaming migraine. I suddenly felt guilty about bursting in the door at 230 in the morning, talking loudly and drunkenly...with her boyfriend.
Anyway, this whole thing is becoming less and less fun. I think I'm starting to like him a bit too much. Maybe a lot too much.
I don't know. I can't talk to anyone about it because everyone knows him, and knows he has a girlfriend. I can't write about it on my other blog because he reads it.
I need to have a good cry over him and be done with it.
But it will not be so simple. The fun, powerful feeling of being a self-described "temptress" has evaporated. Now I'm just wanting.
I wish I could send his girlfriend away for two weeks and take her place to find out if we'd even work together anyway. Maybe we wouldn't. His girlfriend could have him back, then, like nothing ever happened. Of course, it would probably be hard to figure out if our relationship is seaworthy because I'd be too busy fucking his brains out.
Fuckety fuck.
Last night was another rager with Mr. Co-worker. We both had to write concert reviews of the Arcade Fire. I met CW at the show, along with some of his friends. One of the friends, a girl, gave me a thorough once-over when we were introduced - she is pals with CW's girlfriend. I caught her giving me the stinkeye once or twice during the evening.
Anyway, we ended up getting roaring drunk during the show, then piling into a car and getting dumped off at a bar on the other side of town. I was squished against CW the entire ride, but too drunk to get very excited about it.
We got kicked out of the bar at closing time and tried desperately to get a cab for yours truly in the windy cold. We jumped up and down on the sidewalk, yelling, laughing, waving and, of course, hugging. After 20 minutes of failure, he offered his living room couch. I happily accepted, and we trudged through the icy streets to his apartment.
Once there, we continued blabbing away for a few minutes before going outside for a pre-bed smoke. His girlfriend appeared to still be out and about with her friends. After smoking, we went inside and sat on the couch for a few minutes. I'm a little hazy on what happened next...
Somehow we ended up in another hug, but hands were wandering, there were sighs...I remember him disentangling himself and standing up, but still holding my hand...The last thing I recall is him standing over me and covering me with a blanket, then sitting for a second by my legs before leaning over and kissing me on the forehead. I think I smiled, then he stood up and bent down to give me another gentle forehead kiss as he went off to bed.
In the morning I discovered that his girlfriend hadn't gone out with her friends, and had, in fact, stayed home because of a screaming migraine. I suddenly felt guilty about bursting in the door at 230 in the morning, talking loudly and drunkenly...with her boyfriend.
Anyway, this whole thing is becoming less and less fun. I think I'm starting to like him a bit too much. Maybe a lot too much.
I don't know. I can't talk to anyone about it because everyone knows him, and knows he has a girlfriend. I can't write about it on my other blog because he reads it.
I need to have a good cry over him and be done with it.
But it will not be so simple. The fun, powerful feeling of being a self-described "temptress" has evaporated. Now I'm just wanting.
I wish I could send his girlfriend away for two weeks and take her place to find out if we'd even work together anyway. Maybe we wouldn't. His girlfriend could have him back, then, like nothing ever happened. Of course, it would probably be hard to figure out if our relationship is seaworthy because I'd be too busy fucking his brains out.
Fuckety fuck.
posted by Kathleen | 1:29 am
I'll give you two words of advice: Walk Away.
It's the only sane and moral thing to do.
If only it were easier to play at making someone love you, without falling in love with them as an automatic side-effect.
It's a fool's errand. Not that we don't know that. It's all part of the weakness of being a hopeless, lovestruck romantic, to undertake this errand and turn the people we love into the people we're scared of.