Saturdy and Sunday's Fireworks: The Second Half of the Weekend

First of all a disclaimer: This post turned out SO fucking long, that I don't have the time or energy to proof-read it, so pardon any major mistakes. Also, there are a few transgressions from the main story, so I hope you make it all the way through...

Enjoy!

*******
Okay, I left you guys off when NextDoorNeighbor and Anxious were at my place and I was getting ready to meet Hammer. Well, I was supposed to meet Hammer at 7:30, but when I got to Lincoln Center, she hadn't yet arrived. I stood there waiting and waiting and waiting, staring at the same fountain where I had sat all afternoon the day I was stood up by Narc. It totally brought me back to that place in my head and I was getting more and more upset the longer I waited. Hammer finally appeared at 7:55 and we rushed to our seats. She said she had some problem on the subway. My anger at the waiting-incident was soon forgotten.

Anyway, the opera (or operetta) was really quite entertaining, although the plot has very little to propel it forward dramatically. But I've performed so many pieces from Candide in various theater groups and choirs in the past that a lot of it was already very familiar to me and that was cool. We were sitting pretty high up in the fourth ring, next to an annoying woman who kept coughing. At the intermission, Hammer wanted to change seats. We tried venturing down to the second ring in order to steal seats there, but the hyper-vigilant ushers admonishingly returned us to our place among the plebians in the fourth ring.

We did manage to move down to the front row of the fourth ring though, on the right side up against the balcony. From our new seats, looking down into the third ring, we had a perfect view of B and his new girlfriend. While B says he didn't see us sitting up there, Hammer swears she made eye contact with him. Honestly, I didn't want to look at them both because I felt uncomfortable invading their privacy, but moreso because the one glimpse I did catch of them made me feel nauseated, sick, weak, and brought me to the verge of tears. Why dredge up all of that old shit again? It's clearly not yet "history" for me yet, and that wasn't the night to deal with it.

After the show, Hammer and I met the Wizard across the street at Fiorello's where we shared some delicious food and an "exciting" bottle of wine (at least according to our waiter). The Wizard entertained us with stories of his LSD experience in the Metropolitan Museum. He told how willingly made the statues breathe wtih life, and of a sprightly little girl who appeared out of nowhere and danced in front of him, disappearing just as quickly. Pretty fucking strange. I don't think I'd ever have the guts to try LSD. I'm sure I'd have a bad trip. I tend to get bad-emotional when I'm too fucked up. Anyway, from there, Hammer and the Wizard headed their way and I hopped into a cab heading to Cheers.

When I arrived at Cheers, BulgarianGuy was outside smoking. He smiled when he saw me and gave me a hug and a kiss.

"Long time, no see," I said.

He invited me inside and offered to buy me a drink. The two of us got pretty wasted together. I went up and sang a few songs on karaoke.

But suddenly--YUCK!

I was subjected to an awful, terrible, miserable reminder from the past. In walked the most slimy, gross, sniveling, asshole that I've ever known. Who was it? DateRapeGuy!

I hadn't seen him in months and thought that he had been "banned" from Cheers, but I guess not. It's weird...I was just talking about him the other day when for some reason I told this story to Sunshine.

Anyway, to put this all in perspective, I have to give you a little context. (Please pardon the departure from my account of the weekend's events). I met DateRapeGuy back in August. He was a Friday night regular at Cheers and was always offering to buy me drinks. I never liked him. In fact, I always found him to be a whining, irritating, know-it-all bastard, yet while I always tried to dodge his conversation, if I got stuck talking to him, I was always very polite. Once in October or November he referred to us as "friends."

"Friends?" I said. "We're not friends. We're just acquaintances."

Anyway, the first week in December was a rough time for me. Things were coming to a head between me and Narc, and after some very intense and loving times, Narc was pulling his usual asshole shit. On December 3rd, I wrote him a very heartfelt email. I'm including it below (but you can skip over it if you don't feel like reading it. It’s not particularly integral to the story):


*******************
Hi Narc,

I know I just left your place a few hours ago, but after my therapy and some thought, I feel like my head has cleared a bit and there are a few things we still need to talk about. While it would be ideal to have this discussion in person, I sometimes have difficulty asserting my rational side when I'm with you. Instead, the immediacy of the situation always leads me to steer by impulse and emotion. So I'm sending you this email because there are a few things I need to get off my mind.

As you know, navigating our relationship has been emotionally confusing for me. After an initial period of guarding myself, I began let down those walls and invest my feelings in you. This has left me feeling incredibly vulnerable because there is nothing concrete, safe or stable about our relationship. In your message to me on Wednesday night, you said that you had a revelation, that you wanted to "renegotiate" our relationship and that you've been "very very unfair" to me thus far and that you'd "like to make up for that." Since the past is in the past, I don't think there's any point in "making up" for things that have already happened, but I'm wondering if you really meant what you said. Last night when we spoke something you said struck me in particular. You said that you need to direct your own life, and direct how you approach me in order to conquer past problems of just "drifting" into destructive relationships. While I completely understand where you're coming from, what bothers me about this whole equation, is that I don't understand how my needs can play a role in this. If you think you've been unfair to me, I wish that you'd listen to what I've been asking of you. I'm still not sure that you've been hearing me.

Last night you spoke about repeated negative patterns (I think you called it a shadow-self or something). I have my own set of negative patterns as well, one of which is to get involved with people who are emotionally withholding. What I usually do in this instance is to wait. I end up stuck in this "waiting game," waiting and waiting and waiting for my partner to "be able" to address my emotional needs as well as his own. I know that because I willingly engage in this, it is my own responsibility, but even so, it is exhausting and depressing and really bad for my self esteem in general. Like you, I don't want to make the same mistakes over and over. Like you, I want to take responsibility for my actions and not just act based on impulse and need. In light of that, I want to tell you again what I "need" from you if we are going to continue to engage each other.

First and foremost, I feel like I need to get my whole life into order right now. Something clicked in my head this week and I want to end this spiral of self-destructive behavior. I have been abusing my body and disregarding my emotions for quite a few months now. I know that this "self-destructive" thing is the only mode you've known me in, but it really is only one facet of my personality that has taken on a life of its own and has started to deplete the other parts of my life. I am just plain exhausted. I can't keep burning the candle at both ends. I'm also scared of my problems with alcohol in light of the fact that alcohol is what killed my dad. I think that at some point moderation is a goal, but I need to stop drinking on a regular basis right now. What I want is to slow down the speed of my life and not focus it around drinking. I want to create a nurturing and stable environment for myself. I think that our pattern of unplanned meetings in the middle of the night contributes to the overall chaos I'm struggling against.

I'm not sure if what I want is a "relationship" based on love. The other day told me that I can't possibly love you because I don't even know you. Clearly we haven't had the chance to get to know each other. We might find that after spending a lot of time together that we are not even all that compatible. While I'm not sure what will happen, I agree with you that our behavior patterns have to change. I need you to be something steadier in my life if you're going to be there at all.

I've told you before that I have strong feelings for you, and I do. But I don't know if those feelings are based on need or love and I have no way of finding out unless we change things between us. Take the time you need to figure out what you want and what you are willing to offer, but as a minimum, I also need to restore my emotional health.

Bottom line, here's what I'd like from you: I'd like it if we could plan our meetings clearly in advance; I'd like it if our activities didn't only focus on drinking and/or sex ; I'd like to really try to get to know each other in the other aspects of our lives.

I guess that's it for now. Give me a call if you want to talk or just hang out, but don't call in the middle of the night. My birthday is next Sunday, and as a birthday present to myself, I'm ready to do a little growing up.

Sorry if this letter got too long. Hope you have a good day!!!

Lots of love,

Hyde


******************

Needless to say, Narc never sent me a response. Six days later (and after some sad drunken phone calls) I sent him the following follow-up message:

*******************
Hi,

I'm writing primarily to apologize for flooding you with messages last night. I'm sure it was at the very least annoying and I really don't mean to be a nuisance. I'm pretty upset with myself for the weakness of my resolve both to avoid alcohol and to "play it cool" with you. But honestly, I'm tired of trying to fit things into boxes; and I've already spilled enough of myself to you that I'm not afraid to be honest anymore. In a strange way, although nothing is resolved between us, I think I finally "trust" you.

I don't know how much need there is for explanation. I think it's pretty clear to you that the ambiguity in our relationship is really difficult for me to manage. I've been feeling very sad for the past few days--an aching sadness that stems from frustration. I'm frustrated because I feel such tenderness for you, yet it's a love that you don't want. At least, that's all I've been able to draw from your recent silence on the matter.

I know that I can be hyperbolic, but I can't help that. My heart is full right now. It's brimming with both love and sadness and I don't know what to do about it. I just can't be in this place anymore... I guess I'd rather that you be direct and tell me to go away than to do it with your silence. I mean, when I sent you that email last week I opened myself up to you. Since you haven't replied, I have to wonder whether you regard my feelings at all. I know that you care for me, but I can't understand you.

I don't know... I just know that I've been thinking about you and wondering about you and all of this is weighing on me. I have so much going on work-wise right now that I have to attend to, but my heart isn't there...it's with you. But I don't want to write another email so long that you won't read it. And I don't want to sound like a "Bronte character" either. So I guess I should stop now. I just wanted to apologize for last night, to be honest about where I am, and to make one last plea for us to change our style of interaction.

So that's it. I'm going to try not to call you anymore unless we can really deal with some of this. It's starting to hurt me, that's all. I just hope that you find your happiness. I mean it Narc--I wish that for you most of all.

Take care,

Hyde
************

That letter was sent on December 9th. On Friday, December 10th, I was out at Cheers late (and drunk as usual) when I received an equally drunk "come fuck me" call from Narc. I was already very upset about the whole situation with him not responding to my intense letters, and I was feeling hyper-emotional about everything. I asked him why he had never responded and how could he ever expect me to "come fuck him" in light of the given circumstances. If he wanted to fuck me, the very least he could do would be to pretend to care, or offer to come up to my place for once! Anyway, we were calling and yelling and hanging up on each other a lot, and there were a lot of "fuck you's" flying in both directions, accompanied by a sea of tears on my part.

DateRapeGuy was there that night, and offered to buy me drinks. I told Narc on the phone that he could "go fuck himself b/c some other guy was buying me drinks," etc. DateRapeGuy was nice about the whole thing and listened to me whine about Narc the whole night long. When Cheers was closing (around 4:00 or 4:30), I was even more drunk, still trading upset phone calls with Narc and not wanting to be alone. I invited DateRapeGuy back to my house to do some "medicine" or smoke up or something. He accepted.

Back at my place, the fighting with Narc continued. Of course I had to tell him that I had a guy at my place. It infuriated him, exactly as I had intended. I had no intention, however, of hooking up with DateRapeGuy, and that must have been perfectly clear because he made no attempt to touch me.

But as the night turned to morning, I got higher and higher. After about seven hours of cutting lines, I started to crash beyond belief. My head was pounding and spinning, my heart fluttered, my legs felt like jelly and my eyes wouldn't focus. I felt like I was floating out of my body and was falling into a black hole that was both terrifying and endless. It was so bad that I will never be able to adequately explain it. I think I must have been freaking out about it because DateRapeGuy tried to calm me down and suggested that I lay down for a while. I managed to make it into my bedroom and he came in and lay down next to me. The next think I knew, he was on top of me. I kept telling him "no," and while my mind was screaming in protest, there wasn't much my body would do to protect me. I felt immobilized. All I could do was whimper, murmer "no" and weakly push him away. It was awful-- as if my brain wouldn’t send the right messages to my arms and legs to kick and punch and shout. I don’t remember much else and think I passed out.

I woke up two hours later (at around 2:00 pm) and panicked when I saw him next to me. I lept out of the bed and woke him up.

"C'mon! We have to go. I mean, I have to go... I have to go to the library right now! C'mon..."

" Good Morning!" he said, cheefully. "I had such a great time last night. You know... I never realized what a smart and interesting girl you are. I really enjoyed this. Aren't we at least going to exchange phone numbers?"

(What the fuck!?!?!?)

"Umm... Well, you don't need my number," I told him. "You know where to find me."

"Well, let me give you mine then," he said with a smile. He wrote it on a piece of paper and left it on my kitchen counter.

I was already running out the door. I didn't even bother to get dressed or anything (I was in sweats). I called B from the elevator. I was trying to hold back my tears because this asshole was still next to me. B told me he was just getting out of a Yoga class at Union Square. I begged him to stay there until I could come and cry on his shoulder.

Anyway, to make a long story short, Narc and I continued to fight through my birthday weekend (my birthday's the 12th) until I heard the infamous "your life is shit" phone call. He left that call the night of the date rape incident, but I didn't hear it until after the weekend. On that following Monday (December 14th), I sent him the following message:

*********************
(This is an excerpt b/c it was really long)

But back to your messages... To remind you--in your first message you said that I am "all about being shit" and that I'm "all about living shit" and that you can't be a part of that. In your second message you said you were "dealing with my shit right now" and to call you back if I "feel like dealing with your shit." I know you were drunk when you left those messages, so I won't take them at face value, and I also know I was being awful on Friday, so I'm incredibly sorry for that. But really, I was angry and confused and just so sad. I was so sad all week and I feel like I've been hitting my head against a wall with you.

I am already starting to pull my life back together. (Not like I had even screwed anything important up, but you know what I mean...) It's harder to do, though when there's all of this emotional crap still unresolved between us. Obviously you and I internalize the world quite differently. I don't know how you are, but my feelings often overwhelm me. When I let down my guard to you and let myself feel love for you, it scared me. After November 20th, (the day you met me at KGB), I decided to let myself go and let myself trust you. I ditched the other guy I had been dating and I started telling people that I was unavailable when they asked. But I don't know if that was even true!

What do I know to be true? That based on how you've acted, you don't care about who I am nor do you want to do anything to get to know me better. You’ve made it quite clear that I'm not even worth the sacrifice of once or twice making the "long trek" into midtown, despite the fact that I've spent hundreds of dollars on late night cabs and inconvenienced myself time and again to see you. It's clear that there's nothing outside the bedroom that you'd ever like to share with me, that you're not interested in meeting my friends, not interested in sharing my life, nor are you interested in inviting me to be a part of your life. You don't want to go out to lunch or dinner; you can't handle seeing a movie; you're not willing to visit a museum; we can't go chat over coffee, or even just hang out and talk on the phone.

Your actions tell me that I'm not worth any kind of courtship, nor do I warrant or deserve any kind of treatment that would make me feel special. Narc-- the messages that you have been sending me, intentional or not, are that I have no value. I am worthless. I've started to feel worthless being with you. What hurts the most is that not only am I not worthy of an emotional investment (which I understand is scary), but I don't even merit the investment of your time, of a little planning, of anything at all besides a call in the middle of the night to come fuck you.

It's not fun anymore. I feel like shit. And when I feel like shit, I start treating myself like shit and then hate myself even more for the mistakes that I make... which leads back to Friday night. I just couldn’t hold this all together this week. When you treat people like shit, Narc, eventually all they can offer you is shit in return.

I have wanted to give myself to you. I have wanted to share things with you. And I've repeatedly pleaded with you for better treatment. Even though you've consistently acknowledged that "we have to talk," you've never offered an inch...you're just unwilling to risk yourself. You're right about Friday. I want to scrap whatever is left of it from my memory because I was "all about living shit." I don't want to do that anymore. That's why I sent you that e-mail yesterday.

I hope that you understand a little better what I've been going through with this. I feel like I've learned a lot from all this...about what I require in a relationship and about trying to be strong enough to ask to be treated with respect. I hope that you've learned something useful about yourself too.

I really do care about you...you know that. And you know how much I would love to hear something back from you about all this. (Silence is deafening to me). But like I said yesterday, I'm tired of asking for scraps and being grateful when I get crumbs. Handle this however you want to...however you need to. I need to get my heart out of this and move on...

Lots of love,

Hyde

**************

I didn't hear anything from him all week. On December 18th, I called him and invited him to a party. He sent me a text:

Nothing more for us really.

I called him for one last tearful conversation and with that we were "broken up." I started this blog four days later.

The night of my birthday party (Saturday, December 11th), DateRapeGuy showed up at the end of the evening. I panicked when I saw him there and asked Bezoukoff to keep him away from me. Bezoukoff told DateRapeGuy that he was my boyfriend and DateRapeGuy got mad and threw ice at him, before being asked to leave the bar. I saw him once more after that when he showed up at Cheers and he hung around until after closing time. I had to get IrishBird to walk me home because I didn't want him to follow me to my house.

Anyway, back to this past Saturday...

When DateRapeGuy walked in, I was flooded with with fear and anxiety. I tried to act casual about it, but it was hard. Too late. He already saw me and was heading my way. He came over and gave me a "friendly" and "casual" kiss hello. If I hadn't been with BulgarianGuy, I think I would have had a heart attack and cried. I took our drinks and swiftly moved to the back of the bar.

"Why are you going back there?" BulgarianGuy asked.

"I just don't want to be near that guy," I said.

"Wow. What did he do? He has you really upset!"

Later, IrishBird called me up to sing another song. When I came off the stage, some guy came up to me and told me I was great. I was friendly.

"Thanks! But if you've been here before, I'm surprised you haven't heard me. I'm here all the time!"

"Oh, well... I'm not here that often, but my brother is," he said.

"Who's your brother?"

Just then, DateRapeGuy appeared out of nowhere, popping his head through the crowd.

"That's my brother."

(What?!?! I couldn't breathe.) DateRapeGuy came up to me as if he wanted to talk.

"Um, excuse me," I said, pushing them aside.

I manuevered over to the door, gulping for air. Then I just ran. I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, drunk and in high-heeled boots, as many blocks as I could down Second Avenue. BulgarianGuy chased after me. He eventually caught up.

"Wow, that was fast!" he said. (You guys can imagine where my head was at. I'm typically one for a 20-minute mile.)

"I don't want to go back in there," I said.

"Well, we don't have to."

"Let's just go drink at my place then."

We strolled back up to the deli across the street from me. I scanned the streets as we went. I didn't mind having the night at Cheers cut short. It was already late anyway, probably around 3:30 am.

At the deli, I grabbed a bottle of wine off the shelf. We wanted to get sandwiches. While waiting for the deli guy to prepare them, I was talking to some guy from Philly. Suddenly, and I don't know how this happened, I dropped the bottle of wine. It smashed all over the floor. I felt awful. I think I was on the verge of tears anyway. I've been fucking living on the verge of tears lately--what, with my brother, Narc breaking my heart, and now having to deal with seeing DateRapeGuy. I just reverted into my masochist mode.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll pay for it. I'll clean it up. I'm just so sorry!" I walked over to the cashier. "Can I get some towels? I promise, I’ll pay..."

Someone handed me a wad of paper towels. I was drunk, but got down on my hands and knees and started to scrub at the floor, the shards of glass pressing into my palms. Good. I didn't care if I bled from it. BulgarianGuy looked incredulous.

"What are you doing? Let them clean it up."

"No, No. I have to do it; I have to do it," I kept insisting. I don't know why, but I felt like I deserved to be scrubbing the floor. The DateRapeGuy thing just brought back so many negative feelings (and not just from that, but from things long past that I will never explain here.) I don't know. Sometimes I just can't keep the lid down on the box of things I'm in denial about and that I'm always trying to sit on.

In any case, I bought us a new bottle of wine and we finally got back to my place. BulgarianGuy and I stayed up talking pretty late. He smoked a lot of cigarettes and I finished off the entire bottle of wine by myself. Then I left him on the couch while I went to bed in my room.

The next day, I woke up pretty early to head out to Long Island to visit my brother in the hospital. I was still a little drunk that morning, and had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking of Narc. When I got to the hospital I was the only one there. It was nice to get to spend some time alone with my brother before the rest of the family (and family chaos) arrived. But like I said in the last post, I don't want to dwell on this too much because it depresses me to think about it.

The only dramatic thing (in terms of my personal life) that happened is that BigSis noticed the large purple bruise around my neck. Hammer and I had been joking about that the night before and I said I was going to wear a turtleneck to preserve my "Dr. Jekyll" status with my family. I forgot all about it though and had sort of stumbled through my morning routine, so there it was...

"What the hell is that?" she asked, pulling me aside.

"Oh, um, well... it's private. I mean it's just a hickey." (Keep in mind, even though BigSis is just a year older than me, she's happily married to someone she's been dating since she was 19 and she's not at all as "wild" as my Mr. Hyde).

"A hickey?" she exclaimed. "A hickey is a little red mark. You looked like someone choked you."

I must have completley blushed. "Well, that's not it. No one choked me. It's a hickey."

I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt, skirting around her into the bathroom. Good thing I always travel with a good supply of makeup in my bag. I had it decently covered in no time. (Or in other words, before my mom could see it and comment. Thanks a lot, Stallion!)

Anyway, by the end of the day in the hospital, I was generally exhausted from the weekend's events and could feel myself sinking into a deep depression. I boarded the train home at twilight when the whole world was turning gray. That time of day has started to depress me. (It has always depressed B, but I used to like it because I could feel the "night life" coming on.) Everyone seemed so far away from me, moving like phantoms. I just couldn’t connect to the "pulse" of the world at all. B and I had initially had plans to hang out, but when I called him, he said that he was tired and was going home. That depressed me even more, but in a way, I was already too depressed to socialize anyway.

I came home and made some pasta (which was a terribly self-destructive thing to do given the hypoglycemic diet I'm supposed to be on), and I parked in front of the TV. The couch was still open from Anxious' visit, so I was sprawled out in my living room.

The phone rang.

It was B. I didn't pick it up. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't even want to lift my head. I must have lay like that, motionless and sinking, for a few hours.

My cell phone rang.

It was just out of arm's reach on the table. I ignored it. Not worth the effort. It was about 10:00.
Then my land line rang again.

I let the machine go off.

"Hey, Hyde... It's Narc. I was just leaving the Tavern here, and I thought we might-"

"HELLO?" I grabbed the phone.

"Hyde, you're home!" He was clearly drunk. "I just thought we might finally hook up or something."

"Um, yeah, well I guess so..." My heart was pounding.

What should I do? I so wanted to see him, but I know I'm not supposed to see him!

"Well, you don't sound that enthusiastic about it. You don't have to, you know."

"No, well I know that..." I said. "It's just that... I don't know. I mean, I'm about to go in the shower, and um, well I wasn't planning... Well, I have to teach tomorrow and stuff."

"Well, fuck. Are you coming down here or not?" he asked. "I've missed you."

"I know," I said. "I've missed you too."

"So come down here."

"Um... Well, okay. Just give me an hour."

My depression, malaise and general immobility were overcome big-time by the sudden rush of adrenaline. I jumped up, showered and shaved, and quickly put on some makeup.

Now for the wardrobe choice... Hmmm...

Narc doesn't generally seem to care whether or not I get all dressed up. In fact, no matter what I wear, he always wants to be naked. Whatever I choose will probably go unnoticed as he'll be concerned with taking it off me as quickly as possible. I opted to be practical. I wore my sweatpants and a t-shirt with no bra, and I didn't bring anything with me. This was very strategic, you see... I had to be at work at 9:00 am the next day, and this way would guarantee that I had to come back to my place for some decent clothes and for my books. It would really discourage me from spending the night with him. Okay... So I know I was going there to fuck him, but I really don’t want to fall back in love with him. (I know, I know.... Have I ever fallen out?) All I know is that I can't handle the the false closeness of spending a whole night feeling safe and asleep in his arms.

But then, just as I was about to walk out the door, B called.

"Hey, Hyde. Feeling any better than before?"

"I can't really talk now B."

"Why not?"

Well, I didn't want to deceive him, so I took a deep breath and spit it out.

"Don't be mad at me. I just don't want to lie to you, so I’m going to say this and not bring it up again, but I'm going down to see Narc."

"What?!?! Hyde, no.... No! Don't go. Please? It's a mistake. It's a big mistake. Don't go."

"I'm not asking you if I should go or not. I already decided. I'm going. It's not up for discussion. I just didn't want to have some lie between us. Are you mad?"

He didn't say anything.

"Please don't be mad at me..."

"I think we should hang up now," he said. I know he needed time to process and I felt guilty.

"Okay. Later then. I'll see you tomorrow for 24."

"Fine. Bye."

Leaving my house, Narc called me again.

"Hyde! Where are you?"

"Waiting for the elevator," I told him.

"Still at your place? What's taking you so long???"

"Don't worry... Just be patient, I'll be there!" (He's so fucking impatient when he wants something!)

I went across the street to the deli. It was about 10:30 on Sunday night and Cheers was closed. God, how I would have loved to do a shot or two! The deli was my only option for alcohol. I bought a 40 oz. Smirnoff Ice and stuck it under my arm. I don't know why... It's just my heart was pounding so hard and my stomach fluttering at the thought of seeing Narc again. And he was so drunk and wouldn't feel inhibited at all, and I hadn't had a sip!

I jumped in the cab and we started down Second. The phone rang again.

"Hyde? Where are you now?"

"I don't know... Um... at Second and 8th."

"Only there? You're so far away!"

"I'm not so far away! I'll be there in 10 minutes!"

"Well, I want you here now!" (I'm sorry, but how much of a fucking infant is he?)

"Well, I'll tell the driver to step on it, okay? There's not much else I can do."

He laughed.

I got there pretty fast, my heart still thumping on my way up to his apartment. I rang the bell. The five seconds he took to answer it felt like an eternity. What would I say to him? What would he say to me? Would it be weird to be with him again? I guess not. I mean, it’s only been three weeks since I'd seen him.

He opened the door naked and with an erection (as is his habit).

"Hey, what's up?" I asked. "How have you-"

He cut me off by kissing me. I dropped my bag on the floor. He started to undress me right there. I hadn't even moved an inch into the house. There we stayed up against the door for about twenty minutes before he would let me catch a breath or properly put my stuff down. I have to say though, my heart and stomach were flipping over to be with him again.

After that, I mean, I don't know how much detail to go into here and how much to leave out, but I stayed for a few hours. He led me into the bedroom and after a while there back into his living room. I finally opened my Smirnoff Ice (which is the weakest shit on earth and gave me less of a buzz than second hand smoke) and he poured himself a vodka. We both smoked cigarettes. After a few rounds in the living room, it was back into the bedroom.

"I want you to spend the night with me, darling," he said. "I want you to wake up here with me, in my arms. I want to hold you the entire night."

"I really can't Narc, I have to teach tomorrow."

"No. You're staying here."

"What's the difference?" I asked. "If I stay here, I'll be up before you in the morning and won't even see you. You never wake up when I leave."

It was weird being with him. He was so tender and so loving to me, and I could tell he was also trying to please me because he was being rough about things too. Meanwhile, he kept pulling his face back from mine so that he could get a better look at me, squinting his eyes and scrutinizing my face as if he were trying to discern something hidden deep within. He looked at my eyes so inquisitively and so intensely. It made me uncomfortable.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.

He never answered.

I guess I was tensing up.

"Shhh... It's okay. Just relax," he kept whispering to me.

At one point, pulled me in close. "Who are you Hyde?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Who are you?"

"You mean you don't know me?"

"I don't know. I don't know who this woman is. I don't."

He was acting strange. I was confused. (I don't know. Maybe this is why we work better when we're both drunk.)

"Well, I guess it'll stay a secret then." (I mean, if he doesn't "know me" by now, I'm certainly not about to get any more trusting or revelatory!)

At another point, he turned off the lights in his bedroom, closed the blinds and acted as if he were getting ready for bed. Then he got into bed, as if to go to sleep and held me so close (exactly what I was afraid of), nurturing me, and trying to soothe me into sleep.

"Love me," he whispered.

"Love you? You don't want that. You know you don't want that."

"I do. I do," he said. "Love me. Don't you still?"

(Fuck. He knows just how to break me down).

"You know I do," I said. "Things don't change that fast. But I don't want to. I don't want to love you anymore."

"Love me though. Just love me for this moment."

After a while he got up.

"I'm going into the living room to finish my vodka. I want you to stay right here until I come back and then I'm going to fuck you some more."

He got up and left. I lay there for a few minutes thinking. Then I got up to, as if I had to go to the bathroom. I walked out into the living room.

"What are you doing? I thought I told you to stay there."

"Well, I guess I thought I'd come hang out with you here."

I lay down on the couch next to him. More fucking.

"You know, we should really use condoms," I said. (We've been sooooo bad about that in the past, but now it's different. I mean, I've been with the Stallion and God forbid anything goes wrong. I don't ever want to hurt Narc by passing something to him).

"Well, you haven't gotten pregnant yet," he said, "but yeah I guess we should be more careful."

"I'm not talking about that," I said. "I mean, for safety reasons now..."

"Well, don't worry. I haven't been with anyone except you," he laughed to himself.

I hesitated.

"Well, not for me, but for your own safety then... you know?"

There was a moment of silence, pregnant with a painful tension.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess," he shrugged it off and went back to his drink. (He didn't bother putting a condom on at our next go at it though.)

Later on, somehow (and I don't remember how), he got the idea that he wanted to watch Point Break. He got up and searched his DVD collection and put it on. It was about 2:15 am or so.

"Narc, I really have to get going," I said getting up.

"NO! I said that you’re not leaving." He pulled me back down onto the couch and put his arms around me tightly.

"C'mon, I really have to go." I tried to wriggle free. "C'mon! I'm leaving."

"No. I said that you're not. You're staying here."

"I can't. I'm leaving."

"No."

We were wrestling with each other now.

"Narc, listen... You really don't want me to stay. If I stay, I'll start to feel safe and secure sleeping in your arms. I'll fall in love with you and trust you. If I'm in love, I'll expect more from you, and all of your distance (which I know is forthcoming) will feel like a rejection. Then I'll be on the exact same fucking emotional rollercoaster that I've been trying to get off of. Then I'll expect things from you and you won't want to give them. When we hang out, I'll be emotionally on edge and get sad and upset. You'll yell at me and say you're 'sick of my histrionics' (he smiled at that part) and then we won't be able to see each other at all anymore!"

"Oh, is that how it's going to go?" He winked at me.

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Well, I'll tell you how it's going to go," he said. "You're going to go to sleep with me tonight. I'm going to fuck your brains out again. And then you’ll go teach in the morning."

"Narc, I didn't even bring a bra."

He pulled me down on top of him once more and started kissing me. I pulled away.

"Narc! Listen... I have to be responsible. I mean, I'm trying to be responsible now. Please don't be mad at me. I just have a lot to do. I have to hold it together. I was sick last week and I can't let myself get sick again. I mean, c'mon... I'm under a lot of emotional stress right now."

When I said that, his expression changed. He knew exactly what I was talking about, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Fine, then. Just go."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Just go!" He got up, ushering me towards the door where my clothes were still in a pile. I started to pull them on.

"You're sure you're not mad?" I suddenly felt really nervous.

"No, whatever... But go. Go! Go now before I think about it too much!"

And with that, I was out the door.

I got home after 3:00 am and couldn't sleep. But honestly, guys... I don't regret it. I don't regret it at all. I don't know what any of it means yet, but this guy is inside me until I work out my own issues, you know?

I don't have the energy to analyze it now. Telling all of this again took enough out of me (and my hands are fucking shot from typing it all!)

Hope it wasn’t too bad a wait to get the second half of this...

Hope you are all well...

Hope you don't all think I'm a totally crazy motherfucker!

LOL,
Hyde