Watching the State of the Union address last night, boring thing that it was, I distracted myself on the Internet, distracted myself on Manhunt. This young boy came over, Frankie, 22 years old, Spanish, short, and really cute. He was much shorter than me and this made me feel monsterish, like some giant. We sat on my couch and my self-consciousness about being so tall disappeared, conversation coming easy, the boy being very charming. We got stoned together and conversation came even easier.
For the second time this week, I was convinced that someone, a boy I was talking to, meeting, was Matt S, this boy that I used to really like, used to be a little crazy about. This boy doesn’t look like him, being far shorter than him obviously, but something about his deadpan, ironic sense of humor, something about the subjects he chose for jokes, something about him made me think so much of Matt and so I was instantly attracted to this boy.
There is other stuff going on behind this, prior to this, which might have informed this interaction. I had a talk with G a couple days ago in which I told him about my love for him and how that makes me crazy and sometimes sad feeling and talked about ways for me to not be so crazy, so off putting. And maybe it would have been better to not have talked about things, to not have made things so explicit, so clear. I feel better though and more sure about my need of his friendship (even sans romantic love), but things still seem to be a bit awkward.
So there is that background, which maybe I should have gave as such, told that part of the story at the intro, so you, the reader, knew what aside from the boringness of the State of the Union might had led me to be on Manhunt, why perhaps I was even home at this time of night alone. This is why I wanted a boy to come over. This is why when a boy did come over that things were pleasant, friendly, and why I perhaps projected some things on to this cute boy, thinking that his mannerisms were a lot like an old crush, thinking that obviously this person must be really neat.
After joking around for a while, talking about absurd things, we moved to my bed. It has been a really long time since I have had sex stoned and I had forgotten how amazing that could make it. We made out for a long time, me at the time wanting nothing more than to kiss this person, to feel their lips with mine. Clothes came off and I did not mind. We kissed other things, exchanged bjs, and rolled around on top of each other, humping each other, him then fucking me. It was awesome, just what I needed. Like in yoga, they ask you to take a deep breath, to hold it in for a while, and then when you breathe out, it comes out as a sigh, a total release, feeling so good. That’s what this sex was. There were things that I had been waiting to breathe out and I did so, feeling fantastic afterwards.
As I cleaned up in my bathroom, he got dressed. We stood around and talked more and I couldn’t tell if he wanted to leave or not, if he was just doing so cause that’s what people do on Manhunt. He seemed to really like talking to me, to want to stay and talk for a long time, to make silly jokes, and I was kind of hoping that he would stay. A Marvin Gaye song came on. I danced to it. He asked if that’s what I was going to do when he left, dance around my apartment. I confessed that it probably was, thinking how I was going to put on Mary J. Blige soon. He asked me what I was going to dance to, if I was going to dance to Mary J. Blige. I was stunned that he had guessed who, that that seemed very weird, him saying that as soon as I thought it. So I danced to Mary for him, to “Just Fine.”
We sat on my couch some more, smiling at each other, either guilty smiles or innocent ones, full of joy either way, made plans to hang out again, and I told him he could stay. He said he had class in the morning. I walked him to the door, made out a lot with him there, and then said good-bye, closed the door behind him.
I watched City Lights last night after he left and I didn’t appreciate the film the first time I tried to start watching it, but last night, man oh man, it was so beautiful, amazing, Chaplin’s smile in that last scene of the movie absolutely killing me, me wanting that smile so bad.
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