Hyde's Unbelievable Friday Night

First of all-- I fucking HATE blogger! I just typed out the longest post on the face of the earth and then lost it all. So here I go again... Let's hope that writing it all this time around doesn't take me three hours.

Second of all--Happy Happy Birthday to my Stepbrother!!! He's 18 as of two days ago. I love him so much!

And now for my post (take 2):

Let me just start by saying that Mr. Hyde was out in full force this Friday! I can't fucking believe the way that I behaved. Damn! I still haven't even processed it. I do have to warn you though-- this post is really long. However, I promise you-- there's a lot of drama and it's a good story, so I hope you bear with me. I also have to warn you, dear readers, that in some places there may be a little "too much information," (if you know what I mean), but never gratuitously-- only when a necessary part of my narrative. That said-- If you don't wanna know, don't read on.

So what happened? Let's put it this way-- by 5:30 am on Friday night, the Stallion and Narc were both here with me in my apartment! (Well, no... It's not quite as naughty as it sounds... But even so, it was an unforgettably strange evening.)

What exactly transpired?

May I present to you "Hyde's Unbelievable Friday Night"

After teaching on Friday I spent several hours in my office blogging. Over the course of the afternoon, the Stallion had left me several messags on my voicemail, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond or what to do about it. If you recall, he had wanted to get together the afternoon I spent with Bezoukhoff and I blew him off. He was pretty persistent. I guess he still had that "phone sex" phone call on the mind. In any event, either I had to call him back, or make the decision to write him off altogether.

I still had Narc on the mind as well. I decided that I couldn't resist forwarding him the NY Post article on "Drunk-Texting." I sent it to him as an email attachment with the following message:

Hey Narc,

I've figured out by now that you're not talking to me, and that's totally okay. So this message means nothing, except that I couldn't resist sending you this. My friend sent me this article and I thought it was too funny in light of the stupid messages we've left each other. Coming from my end, hope they haven't been TOO awful and I hope that you're doing well.

So, enjoy!

Seriously--
Wishing you all the happiness in the world while you're doing your thing...

H

That evening I had plans to accompany NextDoorNeighbor and a visiting friend of his (John) to a comedy show in the Village. While we agreed to meet at 6:30, I ended up running late. As I scurried to the subway, I was fucking freezing. I was underdressed for the weather and it rained on me too! I was not in a good mood.

When I arrived back at my place, NextDoorNeighbor came by and told me that the show started at 8:30. They were heading downtown early. I told him that I'd meet them there, as I wanted time to get changed and to grab something for dinner.

As I got ready, the Stallion continued to weigh on my mind. I decided to make the call. He was definitely happy to hear from me.

"What's up girl? When can I see you? I've got to see you this weekend!"

He went on to tell me the various things that he wanted to "do to me."

"I don't know, Stallion. I definitely can't meet up tomorrow because I'm going to Long Island," I said.

"Well, I guess that just leaves us tonight."

"Well, actually... I can't tonight. I have plans with my neighbor," I told him. "We're going to see a comedy show."

"Maybe we can hook up after that? I might be in the city."

"Yeah, sure, I guess... If it works out." I was hesitant. "But I'm warning you-- it's gonna be a drinking night. And I know you weren't all that cool with the way things were the last time we hung out and drank."

"Well, that's okay," he said. "But I was kind of hoping we could make it a 'stay at home with a movie' night. More 'play' that way."

(What? I've NEVER had that kind of a night with the Stallion, and frankly I couldn't even imagine it. What the hell would we talk about?)

"We'll have to save that for another day," I said. "But I can give you a call when we get out of the show. I'm really not sure what we're doing after that though, so don't make your plans around me. If it works out and we meet up, then fine. But I can't guarantee it..."

"Ok."

After that, I spent so much time perfecting my makeup that I didn't get out of the house until around 8:10. I still hadn't eaten dinner, but I wanted to stop into Cheers and say hi to everyone. What to do? Dinner or a drink? (How well do you know Hyde and her priorities?) I did a few lines to quash my hunger and popped by Cheers for a quick whiskey. Finally, I headed downtown.

The comedy show was pretty entertaining and NextDoorNeighbor, John and I each had a few rounds there. After that, we headed around the corner to a lounge called "Alibi" on McDougal. It was still really early (probably only 11:00) so the place was pretty empty. I was starting to feel my liquor and began to flirt with John. (I was just in that kind of mood, you know?) NextDoorNeighbor laughed and told John that I had "the most colorful life" of anyone he knows. I took it upon myself to "play the part."

All three of us were getting a little drunk. I was behaving quiet audaciously. John is the shy and quiet type. He said that he doesn't party all that much and I could see that he was definitely taken aback at some of the things that came flying out of my mouth. I thought it was fun to shock him. NextDoorNeighbor knows all of my stories--Narc, the Stallion and more, and he cheerfully brought up a few of them in front of John. John told me that "if he had a girl like me, he wouldn't treat her that way." It was sweet-- a shy guy's brand of flirting. He managed to flirt without being direct enough to take any kind of real risk. I thought it was cute and the whole thing put me in a good mood.

After an hour or so at "Alibi" I was just drunk enough to think that I wanted to call the Stallion. I told him that the three of us were probably heading back uptown in just a little while, and that he should call me if he were going to be in the city.

"What are you up to now?" I asked.

"Just kickin' it," he said. (Yay! My favorite Stallion expression!) "But I'll definitely see you later, girl!"

NextDoorNeighbor and John were psyched to check out karaoke at Cheers. I had no objections. After all, as you know, I love it there. As we walked in, I was approached by a drunk yet familiar face.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I know you! You're that girl who's the really good singer!"

"What's up?" I said.

"Do you remember me?"

I did, but I couldn't really place him. Where the fuck did I know him from? (Or should I say WHEN did I know him from?) Hmm... Oh! That's right, I got it! He was the guy that VJ flirted with the night that she was there when I smoked up with NextDoorNeighbor and then all three of us went to Cheers after. That was night I thought she and NextDoorNeighbor had a "budding romance."

"I do remember you," I said.

"My name?"

"Um, yeah.... Your name is.... um... Jeremy!"

Who the fuck knows how I remembered that! Especially with all of my drunken memory loss! I'm sure that if you had asked me his name sober, I wouldn't have been able to tell you. Strange, n'est pas?

Jeremy asked me to sing the song that I always sing.

"Why don't you give the slip to BarMan?" I suggested. "That way he'll call it sooner. I just got here, so if I turn it in, I'll go on the end of the list."

As Jeremy submitted my song, I scanned the crowd for the boys I came in with. I bumped into BulgarianGuy and we said our hello's. I also passed by BarMan's bizarre curly-haired date from the previous night. She seemed happy to see me-- I guess she didn't know anyone else there. I talked to her for little while. Then I found NextDoorNeighbor and John at a side table. I was frustrated though, because BarMan still hadn't called my song. I decided to ask him why not.

"Sorry, Hyde," he said. "PumpedUp gave me directions not to call any 'slower songs' until later in the night."

"What?" I was really annoyed.

I went directly to PumpedUp to ask him what was up with the new policy. He basically repeated just what BarMan had told me. I was pissed off, but knew I was too drunk to argue and besides, there was no point. No reason to make things uncomfortable. I didn't feel like sticking around there though. I was in "Hyde-mode," and Hyde is definitely a lot less docile and agreeable than Jekyll! I marched back over to our table and told the boys that I wanted to leave.

"Here, go pay my tab," I said, pressing several bills into NextDoorNeighbor's hand.

"But I just put up 'Summer Nights' for us," he said.

"Well, I'm pissed, so I'm leaving now." I strutted towards the door.

(I guess I can be a bit of a bitch. But I was upset, and missing the chance to sing a lame duet while drunk with someone who can't stay on pitch didn't seem like such a loss!)

The two boys followed.

"Where to next?" I asked.

"FuBar?" NextDoorNeighbor suggested.

On the way up there we passed Manchester Pub.

"We have to go in for one of Maeve's White Russians!" I said.

I promised that we would only stay for one drink. (I think it ended up being three).

There, I struck up a converstaion with some British guy who was in town for the weekend. I gave him my number, but had no intention of ever returning his call. Like I said-- I was just in a flirty mood. (He called on Saturday. I got his message while I was at my parent's place. I have to say-- in that context, it was a little jarring).

From there we continued on to FuBar. I was having a great time with the boys. While there, I got a call from the Stallion. He wanted to know where I was. I told him, and he said he would meet us shortly. At around 1:30 am, NextDoorNeighbor and John said that they were tired and wanted to head home. I asked them to wait around with me until the Stallion arrived. (After that assault experience back in October I vowed never to be drunk and alone in a bar where I don't know anyone. For more on that, see my February 5th post). Of course, they agreed.

The Stallion arrived just a little while later and all four of us hung out. NextDoorNeighbor and John later told me that they thought the Stallion was a "great guy."

"I just can't believe that that's the guy who roughed you up like that!" NextDoorNeighbor said. "He was so friendly and outgoing and just... really nice!"

"Charming, right?" I said.

"Yeah! That's exactly it."

"Well, what do you expect?" I asked him. "They always are!"

Anyway, I digress. Back to my narrative--

NextDoorNeighbor and John headed out; the Stallion and I stayed for a few more rounds. We were sitting on a sofa in the back of the bar. He started kissing me. That was okay, but when he started going up my shirt, I kind of pushed him off. I'm not entirely comfortable doing that kind of thing in public. So I suggested that we head home instead.

The next hour or so is little hazy in my memory. We got back to my place at around 2:30 am, where we enjoyed a lot of "medicine" and a lot of sex. Then, for some reason, I started insisting that I needed a cup of tea. I think I wanted to see if Cheers was still open, but didn't want to tell the Stallion that, since he decided he's "uncomfortable" there. To be honest, though-- I'm not really sure what I was thinking! I told him that he had to walk me across the street to the deli. We must have been quiet a sight. We were both wrecked! Drunk, high, and rumpled from sex. Cheers was closed, so I guess it was already around 4:00 am.

Back at my place, we had more sex, and then I remember feeling really messed up. The Stallion told me to do a few more lines. He said it would help.

"But I already feel fucked," I protested.

"No, trust me. I promise you that it'll help."

I did what he said. I always trust him in those situations. He's always been really good to me like that. I thought of that time last summer when I passed out, crashing to the floor during sex. He carried me to the couch and revived me with ice. It was sweet. Plus, he's an expert at drugs and booze and has always been the greatest at helping me come down. (Maybe he's not so bad after all...)

Then more fucking. My memory is blurry here, so I'm not sure of the sequence of things.

What I do remember is my cell phone ringing at 4:45. Who was it?

Yup! You guessed it--My Narc! Holy Shit!!!

I was fucking shocked. Why? Well, do you remember the last time I heard from him?

If you have an excellent memory for these things, I advise you to skip this part. For those of you who need a little catch up, here's a brief timeline of my interactions with Narc since our "breakup:"

The Timeline:

• Tuesday, Feb. 21st: My brother's accident
• Friday, Feb. 25th: Narc treats me like shit and I leave him a "goodbye forever" note.
• Wednesday, March 2nd: He agrees we that shouldn't see each other anymore. ("The Breakup")
• Friday, March 11th: Narc leaves me several drunk messages.
• The following week: I leave Narc several drunk messages.
• Thursday, March 17th: Drunk Narc calls me. I talk to him for an hour in the middle of the night.
• Sunday, March 20th: I go down to see Narc. We sleep together, but I don't stay over.
• The following week: I call Narc (drunk and sober) several times.
• Sunday March 27th: Narc texts me at 7:30 am that he's "just getting home" but to "Have a great Easter!"
• The following week: I drunk call and drunk text Narc a few more times.
• Thursday, March 31: Narc texts me that he's "off the radar" and "seeing someone else." I shouldn't contact him again. (I'm in a "Cold Crater.")
• Monday, April 4th: Narc calls me drunk and we have a long conversation in which he calls me a bitch, tells me to "shut the fuck up" and concludes by leaving an incoherent message on my voice mail at 5:00 am.
• That week: I'm off alcohol. NO CONTACT WITH NARC
• The week of April 11th: Half the week still off alcohol. NO CONTACT WITH NARC
• Monday, April 18th: Drunk-dialed Narc a few times.
• Tuesday, April 19th: Drunk-texted Narc several more times.
• Friday, April 22nd: Sent Narc that email, and then got this call from him!!! He had not contacted me since April 4th!!!

Okay, so now you understand why I was so psyched to see Narc's number appear on my phone. Of course, (even though I was with the Stallion), I picked up the phone.

Our conversation started off like a typical Hyde-Narc exchange. Narc wanted me to come down to his place and fuck him. (Yes, even after all that! This guy has balls, I'll give him that.) I told him that I couldn't--after all, I had someone at my place. Narc thought I was making that up.

"If you don't want to come down here, at least let me come up there. I have to see you, Hyde."

(I thought of the drunk-text I sent him the night I was out with Hammer. I wrote him to "come fuck me" and left him my address.)

I repeated to him that I had company and that I couldn't meet him. Narc told me to "kick the guy out." I told him that I couldn't.

"Yes you can, Hyde. I want to see you and I know you want to see me. You do want to see me don't you?"

"Narc, you know I do. You know how I feel about you. I've never been fickle about that."

"Well, if it's not tonight, it might not happen," he said.

"What are you saying? Are you giving me some sort of ultimatum?"

"It's not an ultimatum. It's just that, well, yeah... maybe it is. It is now or never, I guess. I just haven't been going out like I used to, Hyde. And you know we shouldn't be seeing each other. So do I. But I'm out now; I'm drunk now; and I want you now. Right? Did you hear me? I'm out, I'm drunk, I called. Now what are you going to about it?"

"We can't do this, Narc. It's crazy."

"Where do you live again?"

"I just wrote to you where I live the other night."

"I mean your apartment number..."

I told him.

My stomach was flipping over. I wanted to see him so badly. But what the fuck was I doing? I was with the Stallion!

"No, Narc. I mean, I want you to... but I can't do this. This is fucking crazy! It's just way too crazy! I can't! I'm with someone and--"

"Shut the fuck up with that. Just stop. I'm on my way."

He hung up on me. I looked at the Stallion. He looked back at me like I was out of my fucking mind. Honestly-- I'm starting to think that I am.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked.

"Um, that was Narc." I said. "I've told you about Narc, and um... I guess he's coming here."

"What the hell is wrong with you Hyde? What's he gonna do to me when he sees me here?" The Stallion was getting upset. "I can't fucking believe it. Your boyfriend is coming here now! Is he violent?"

I guess the Stallion was worried that Narc was coming to beat the shit out of him. (The Stallin would win that one, no contest, anyway).

"No, no, no! It's not like that," I said. "First of all, he's not really my boyfriend so there's not a 'jealousy' thing. And he's not violent. Don't worry."

"I don't know. I don't like this. I think I better just go."

"No. You can't!" I insisted.

"Why not?"

"Because I won't do that to you," I told him. "I'm not about to kick you out of my house after fucking you for hours! Plus, you're drunk, you're high and it's 5:30 in the morning!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Just what do you see happening here?"

"I don't know," I said. I was getting stressed. "Just sleep here. I'll handle the situation, okay? I'm not kicking you out though. I'm not the kind of person that would do that to you."

Again, he looked at me like I was crazy. Our conversation went on like that for a bit longer.

"Well, where are my clothes?"

"In the living room. Hold up. I'll get them."

I went into the other room and scooped up all of his things from where they had been haphazardly flung in the heat of passion just a few hours earlier. I put his stuff in my bedroom and went into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. My eyes were red and dialated. My mascara had smudged all over under my eyes leaving huge black circles. My hair stuck out in every direction. I had five minutes to fix it. I washed my makeup off and brushed my teeth. I combed my hair down and went back out to check on the Stallion.

Just then, the buzzer rang.

"Hyde? There's a Narc here to see you?"

"Send him up!"

My heart was pounding. I gave the Stallion a quick kiss and closed him into my bedroom. The doorbell rang. It was weird to see Narc standing there when I opened the door. I hadn't seen in him in a whole month! He grabbed me and started kissing me.

"So where's this guy you have 'stashed here' Hyde?"

I think he still thought I was lying about that.

"He's in my bedroom," I said. "Don't worry about it. We can sleep out here."

I started to open the pull-out sofa. I couldn't believe what I was doing.

"Do you want something to drink, Narc? Or some blow? It's all over there." I gestured to the dining table.

Shit. I needed sheets for the sofa bed and that meant going into the bedroom. I softly knocked on the door and went in.

"Stallion? It's just me. I just need to get sheets."

He was laying in the bed. He didn't answer. I tip-toed over to the drawer and got what I needed, heading back into the living room to finish making up the bed. (I can't believe I did all of that drunk. I guess adrenaline had kicked in!)

Narc and I collapsed into bed and went at it for a few hours. Again, my memory here gets fuzzy. Eventually we fell asleep.

The next morning, slightly disoriented, I opened my sticky eyes at around 9:30. (Only about two and a half hours of sleep, but I didn't feel it... must be the "medicine.") I was laying naked next to Narc. Holy shit! Everything started to rush back to me. I moved to get out of the bed. Narc pulled me back in.

"Hold on, a sec," I said. "I'll come back. I just want to check and see if he's still here."

I trepidatioulsy approached the bedroom. The bed was empty.

I was suddenly flooded with guilt. Shit. I felt like a total asshole. What the fuck is wrong with me?!?!? How could I have treated the Stallion that way? How could I treat anyone that way? I'm SUCH an asshole! I felt awful--just drowning in so many mixed emotions that I couldn't deal with it. And Narc in my living room to top it all off!

I went back to the sofa bed and snuggled up next to him. The next few hours I spent being in love again with Narc. It was a lot of sex and a lot of conversation, and this time, felt "real" in a new way. (I know you're probably sick of hearing me say that it was "different" with him "this time," but I really felt like it was!)

At one point my phone rang, but I didn't pick it up. Later I went to check the machine.

The automated voice reported: "You havee 19 old messages and 1 new message."

"19 old messages? Damn, Hyde, why don't you erase some of those?" he asked. "I always keep my mailboxes empty."

"Whatever," I said. "Almost all of them are from you anyway. I can't erase them."

I felt embarassed almost as soon as I said it. He gave me a funny look.

"Well, I did get myself to erase most of the messages you left on my cell phone. I only have about six of them still saved. But here, I have them all--even from the first time you ever called me back in July...for the date that never happened."

"What do you mean the 'date that never happened'?" he asked.

"Well, you asked me out for martinis, remember? But we've never really been on a date."

"It's not good to save things, Hyde," he said. "You can't live with the past all around you. It's not healthy. The past is meaningless. It keeps you in chains. You'll never be happy unless you can free yourself from all of that."

"Live without the past!" I exclaimed. "I don't think so! I love living with the past all around me. I chronicle every fucking thing that happens! Sometimes, it's all that matters to me. My connection with the past links me to the future. That's the only religion I have. I'm a fucking historian, for Christ's sake! I want to devote my life to obsessing about the past!"

He laughed when I said that. I got up and walked over to one of my many "memory boxes"--places where I toss old business cards, drunken-scribbled-upon napkins, ticket stubs, concert programs, and various other relics that compose the record of my life. I pulled out a sheet of paper. On it it were the words "The Landmark Forum." It was in Narc's handwriting.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Don't you remember? From the first time you were here in July? You wrote this down for me. I saved it."

He looked moved by that, but he also like he thought I was crazy. (Jeez, how many "crazy" looks can one girl get in a weekend?)

"You shouldn't have saved it," he said. He looked down. "You know that I think we're bad for eachother. I know that you say you 'love me,' but you really shouldn't. It's not right for you."

I was surprised. That's the first time I've ever heard Narc say anything regarding my feelings.

Later we moved into the bedroom for more sex. Afterwards, we lay there talking for a while. Narc told me that he's been depressed lately. I said that I've been having a rough time too.

"These things go in cycles, though," I said. "They usually pass."

"Not for me, they don't," he said "With me, it's always been there. Well, for a few years in college when I was really busy with my dot-com thing, it was a litle better. I felt more connected. But aside from that, I've always felt such an enormous disconnect. I live completely in my head. It's a prison. I can't feel. And it sucks because I know that until I can really feel the sadness, I'll never feel the happiness either. That's what I've been working on with my 'guru,' you know? But none of it's working. I feel the same now as I did six months ago."

My heart swelled up.

"Narc, I do know how you feel. It might seem like we're polar opposites sometimes because I can be all emotion. But that's only because the rest of the time, I don't have access to those emotions at all. Trust me--I'm trapped in my head in just the same way, and I have been for a long time. For me, I've been working on anger issues lately. And it's like, I can't or won't let myself feel anger. Instead, it all comes out as sadness. The emotional circuit for anger is completley cut off. And as long as I continue to cut off certain emotions, I'll never really feel connected to anything either. I always feel isolated from the world--completley alone--like I'm living in a cage, or there's some huge thick glass wall between me and everything else. But I have to know that I built that wall. I isolated myself. It's all coping mechanisms."

"I do know that," he said. "But even knowing it, I can't get out of it. It's like my hyper-protective mind is doing its job a little too perfectly."

He told me that one of his best friends just had a baby and that he wanted to feel so much for his friend. Yet, when his friend gave him the news, in truth, he felt nothing and just went through the motions of congratulating him.

"Narc, I know what it is to feel nothing." (I thought of how I felt "nothing" when I found out my dad died. I was always mad at myself for that.) "Why do you think I run around all the time like a mad-woman, filling in every single empty space in my life?"

He didn't answer. He just looked at me and gave me the most enormous bear-hug. At that moment, I felt so totally in love with him. He needs me so much, but will never be able to accept my help. At that moment, more than life itself, I just wanted him to be happy. But I can't make him happy. I felt the pain of that frustration.

He and I might both have problems, but I have the support of so many amazing friends and a loving family. I have absolutely no doubt that I'm going to work through all of my emotional stuff and come out at the other end a more "balanced" person. Narc, on the other hand, seems to be totally alone. I don't want him to be alone anymore. God damn it! It's breaking my heart even just to write this!

A little while later, we moved back into the living room. After more sex, we got into a long discussion about music. Narc was chain smoking. B called to tell me that there was a live broadcast of Die Walkure on the radio. That started our discussion. Narc told me about a paper he had written on Wagner and Nietzsche. I told him about the Adorno paper that I'm working on. He talked for while about Stockhausen (whom I don't know that much about). Then we got into talking about American Idol. I didn't even know he watched! We laughed about some of the contestants. I was very happy. He told me about a few of the films he's seen at the Tribeca Film Festival that's going on right now.

Then back to more sex. (I laughed in my head when our timing perfectly lined up with Domingo's "Notung! Notung!" exclamations. Too fucking funny!). Later we moved back over to the couch. It was then that something strange happened. Now, I don't mean to be too explicit, but this was a really odd moment. It was just about 1:00 in the afternoon and I was smack in the middle of going down on him when I heard the last thing I was ever expecting to hear.

"Hyde, I love you."

WHAT?!?!?

I stopped what I was doing. I was stunned.

"Wait, Narc... What did you just say?"

I looked up at him totally bewildered, my eyes widened. He looked back at me calmly.

"I love you, Hyde."

(Oh my God!)

"I really do love you. I know that I don't say it. But I thought you should hear that from me."

Fuck! I was caught so off guard that I didn't know what to say. Neither of us was drunk, no drugs, no late night passion. This was a flat-out straight-up sober statement of "love."

"Oh my god... Narc! Um..." I just stared at him, my heart totally full--well, not knowing what to feel. "Narc! Um... I can't...well... um...thank you?" I said timidly. I really didn't know what to say.

My heart was pounding though and I know that I must have had a huge smile plastered across my face. He looked at me and smiled akwardly. Suddenly there was a tremendous amount of tension in the air. Neither of us knew quiet what to do or say. Narc broke the silence.

"Well, don't stop what you're doing!" He laughed.

"Oh. Um... Ok."

I resumed and that was that. The moment had passed.

We hooked up for a while more. Then later, I jumped into the shower. Shortly after I got out, the doorbell rang. Narc was laying in my bed. I was undressed.

"Who the hell is that?" he asked.

"It's probably NextDoorNeighbor," I said. "Not a big deal, but hold on a sec." I threw a towel on and went to get the door. I was right. I told NextDoorNeighbor that I couldn't talk because I had "company."

"So the Stallion's still here?" He gave me a sly smile.

"Um...well, no. It's not the Stallion," I said.

"Wait, what? You've got another guy up here?!?! Hyde, you're CRAZY!!! Just be sure to give me the story later."

I promised I would. When I crawled back into bed with Narc, he asked me if I have alot of friends in the building.

"Um, yeah. I know both my neighbors on this floor, a guy on 14, the FourthFloorGirls, Druggie and his brother on 3, and, hmm... I guess that's it."

"I don't know anyone in my building," he told me. "I really need to meet some new people. I mean, CouchSleeper and James are all busy these days. James especially with the new kid and all."

"Why don't you throw a roof party?" I suggested. "NextDoorNeighbor and I are thinking of making one for the 'young people' in our building."

"At my place it's against regulations," he said.

"Well, that sucks." I gave him a hug. (I fucking love my Narc, you know? I don't want him to be sad.)

"I don't know Narc," I said. "You're just in transition. I had a few years like that too. I really didn't feel like myself, you know? It was some fucked up awful in-between phase. I hadn't fallen into a new niche, but at the same time the old one was gone!"

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I don't know... I guess when we start shooting my film I'll make friends with that whole 'film' crowd."

"That's true," I said. "But, who do you talk to now? I don't get it. I mean... who do you talk to on a daily basis?"

"My schedule sucks," he said. "Basically, I wake up at 8:00 am or so. Then I write for a few hours. Then my trainer comes over. Normally we work out for three hours a day, five days a week. Can you tell, Hyde? Can you see the difference?"

"Definitely." (Actually, I could!)

"Then I shower, go for coffee at Moca or something. Then back home, eat dinner, and write for a few more hours, then sleep. I really haven't been drinking that much."

"That sounds like impossibly little human contact."

(Narc and I are so much the same! Remember my treatise on "all or nothingness?" Feast or Famine? He's just being Famine-Narc. I get that.)

"It is. I fucking hate it," he said. "But all my friends are coupled off. Besides, everything in New York involves drinking."

I wanted to tell him that it doesn't have to. I wanted to tell him that I would love to bum around with him and do nothing, or get dinner one night or just make him feel better however I could. But I didn't want to press him.

"It sounds like you just need one or two people who are on your schedule, and on your wavelength and who you can just call whenever to see what they're up to, you know? Doing a PhD is weird like that too. You need to be friends with other people who know what the process is like and what you're going through. It'll happen for you though."

"I fucking hate being a writer," he said. "It's such a prison. And meanwhile, I've been in NY for four years already and have not nearly enough to show for it."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I don't think I'm being hard enough."

I didn't say anything, but instead just hugged him again.

It was getting to be late in the afternoon. I really had to get going if I was going to make my train to Long Island. I convinced him to "let me" get up and get dressed. He did the same. We decided to head out and get something for lunch.

"Let me just check my email before we go," I said.

"Oh, I finally updated my blog!" he told me. "As long as you're on the computer, go check it out."

I was psyched. He's had a blank page up since Novemeber. I would link to the address, but he uses his real name on it, and given that I haven't always depicted him in the most flattering light, I don't think it would be fair to him.

He has a lot of musings about various things posted. He also has photos of some half-naked girl sunbathing on the circle line cruise.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"That's just my friend Sharon. We did the half-island cruise this weekend."

(I've never heard mention of a Sharon).

On his blog he refers to her as "Roses in Bed Chick." Interesting... (I happen to know that Narc has a personal-ad posted on an online dating site. One of the questions they ask is "What will I find in your bedroom?" One of the items Narc lists--"roses." (Which I also happen to know not to be true.) But is this the girl he spent the night before Easter with? Ughh! I felt nauseated.)

While I was checking out his blog, I asked Narc if he wanted to do any more medicine. (Better to foist it off on company, right?) He said he would love to. I couldn't find my mirror, so I set him up with a CD cover. What CD did I choose? The soundtrack from the Rousseau play I saw with Hammer a few weeks ago--"Narcisse." I cracked myself up inside at my little joke.

We decided to go to Manchester for a bite. It was strange--I had been there with him on Valentine's Day weekend with Anxious the night before the infamous masturbation incident. We had a nice time this time around though, even though our conversation was a little morose. Narc's blog has an "underground man" theme, and he started to get all Doestoevsky-Existential on me. At one point in the conversation, I had to ask:

"Um...Narc, so what does all this mean now? I mean, are you going to go back to not talking to me? Am I allowed to call you again? What's the deal?"

I looked down at my plate uncomfortably.

"Of course you're allowed to call me. Just call me once, you know? If I don't call you back it's not that I didn't get your message, it just means that I'm holed up doing my thing for a while..."

I guess I looked a little sad.

"You seem to be doing fine for yourself, though," he said. "I mean, bringing some dude back home last night and all..."

"It's not like that was just some random guy, Narc," I said. "It's not like that... And it's not like I want to be running around with other guys. I wanted to be with you."

"I haven't been with anyone except you since you," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. It's just a fact."

(I thought of the "Roses in the Bed" thing, of his message the night before Easter, of his dates with the UN girl back in December (the one who called the cops on us) and of that trip to the Dominican Republic he took with some girl back in September. I didn't say anything though.)

"It's not like I'm sleeping around," I said. "I've known that guy for a while."

"What's a while?'" he asked.

You could tell he wanted to know if I was sleeping with the Stallion while I was "with" him.

"So you actually know that guy? I didn't think you knew him when I told you to kick him out."

"Well, yeah... I met him five years ago or so and then we met up this summer and had a fling. I found out he had a girlfriend, but didn't have to deal with the whole moral issue because he was moving back to California at the beginning of August. I bumped into him around the same time as I met you. Then he moved back here and you and I had broken it off, so..."

"Do you like him?"

"Not really... He's gotta be a bit of an asshole, fooling around with me when he's practically engaged. Also, we don't really have an intellectual connection and he was kind of rough with me at one point, when he thought I was flirting with another guy. That kind of upset me."

"So why are you wasting your time with him, Hyde?"

"I don't know... Lonliness, I guess? To keep things going? I don't know, to tell you the truth. I just have been in a kind of limbo since things changed with us. Plus, things have been hard with my stepbrother and all... To be honest though, I don't know."

"You shouldn't waste your time with people who aren't good people," he said. "When I first moved up here I had like a thousand people in my phone book. But it wasn't real. You know, those people aren't there for you, and it's a waste. You end up lowering yourself if you waste time with people who aren't quality. I have no time for that in my life."

"I couldn't live your life, though, Narc. I couldn't do all that time alone. I have to pack every second of the day (and night) if you haven't noticed."

"It's not going to make you feel any more connected though."

"I know."

He squeezed my hand. It was so sweet. I looked at my watch. I had to get going. We paid the check and headed out onto the street corner. Narc went to hail a cab. He said he was meeting some friends at Pastis and then was going to try to catch something at the film festival. I went to give him a hug and a kiss goodbye. He gave me a strong hug.

"I'll talk to you real soon," he said.

"Yeah, okay." I guess I looked like I didn't really believe him.

"No, really. Just give me a week to process, okay?" He looked away.

I was surprised that he even admitted needing to process! Usually his excuses are all about some "time constraint" or another.

"Okay. Bye."

I waved goodbye as the cab pulled away, Narc heading back into oblivion.

Since then, I've been so emotionally overwhelmed. I have been consumed with guilt for the way I treated the Stallion. (B says I shouldn't feel guilty. Not only is the Stallion using me, but he sexually brutalized me that one time.) Either way, I feel bad. I sent him the following text on Sunday:

I feel like such an asshole. Honestly--very confused right now about so many things & don't really know what to say. I'm sorry for how I treated you though. Truly.

I haven't heard back.

On Saturday I went to my parent's place. On Sunday I had a bridal shower in Jersey to attend. It took me so long to write this post, that there's already new developments, but I'll wait to post them. Narc sent me an email this morning; B and I argued about old issues, and I feel like somewhat of an emotional wreck. I'm glad to have the free time this week to get ahead on some work.

So that's my crazy story.

-unbelievable hyde-