In Love (part II of my previous post)

The story continues...

(I changed the title of the post, because I'm not in such a "raining men" mood today, but seriously, that song seems to be haunting me. IrishBird and ThursdayGirl have taken to singing it together at karaoke. I heard them from the street when I was on my way to meet Narc on Saturday night. Then, this morning, I was watching the news and the annoying newscaster started singing it in reference to today's weather).

Anyway, as you can imagine, I was thrilled to hear from Narc on Saturday night. By the time I got his message, it was nearly 1:00 am. I called Hammer to share the news. (She was on the phone with the Wizard). The whole thing got me thinking about some comments left on a post a few days ago. On Thursday night when I asked Narc if he wanted to hang out and he turned me down, I blamed myself and was sure he was giving me the cold shoulder. In fact, I addressed an entire post to interpreting our text exchange. (You can read about that here). Mr. Mystic and Spinsterwitch both asked me why I couldn't be direct with Narc.

Spins wrote: So, why can't you just text him, and tell him you want to hang out?

And Mystic said: Hyde I can't begin to tell you how dangerous it is to assume to know what other people are thinking. But again I would like to throw in some unwanted advice. Never mind what other people may or may not want to say. Just make sure that you say what you mean. TELL THE TRUTH! It will save you endless amounts of grief in the long run.

The fact that Narc called me on Saturday made me think that they're right-- maybe I do over-analyze him and maybe I was attributing too much to the fact that he was just tired on Thursday. Later, this new position gained even more credibility when he told me that he was in my neighborhood on Friday night and wanted to call, but then thought that it would be better for him to get an early night's sleep. So he wasn't mad at me and he wasn't punishing me, after all! (I guess I'm just a drama queen!)

Anyway, I agreed right away to see him. He told me that his late night plans were cancelled and that he was at home, but that he only had half a bottle of wine left. He asked if I could bring some more. I stopped by Cheers first for a whiskey. (Last night BarMan joked that it was the fastest drink in the world. He said that he turned around to bring me my change and I was gone. I laughed).

After the drink, I went across the street to the deli for wine. I was so happy to be going to see Narc. Outside a NY deli there are always buckets of fresh flowers for sale. They were beautiful and I suddenly (impulsively) wanted to bring him flowers (as cheesy as that sounds). I carefully selected the most perfect bouquet--a dozen roses and went inside to make my wine selection. To my dismay, they were out! Oh, no!

"There's nothing you can do for me?" I implored the deli-owner.

"Well, we do have champagne." He pointed me to the refrigerated section.

Champagne? It was expensive. (At least for me, it was-- at $55 a bottle!) I wanted to buy it though. I wanted to celebrate with Narc that I love him on the anniversary of when I told him that I love him, and so I splurged. Once I was leaving the store, I started to feel a little silly. There I was, my arms filled with champagne and roses. What would he say? He probably wasn't even aware of the occasion! I decided to prepare him by sending a text.

My deli was out of wine, I wrote. So I come bearing champagne & roses. Feeling decadent! (1:28 am)

Sure thing, he replied, a minute later.

When I got to his apartment, the doorman knew me by name. I think that's the first time that's ever happened! It seemed like some kind of good sign. I asked for his name in return. (It's Chris. I'll just document that here, in case I forget it in the future!)

Narc answered the door in a white t-shirt and jeans. He was watching the tail end of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. We spend so much time lounging around the house together, always naked, that it was nice to see him in clothes. It was nice to see him "constructed," if that makes any sense. Anyway, I handed him the flowers and I could tell that he thought it was sweet. He put them in water and smelled them and then moved them onto his coffee table.

"Did you ever see Hedwig?" he asked.

"When it was an off-Broadway play," I told him. "Not the movie though. I saw it with Liu in December '99. That's the one with the song based on Plato's Symposium, right?"

Narc didn't know the song referenced the Symposium. I could tell he was impressed and I was pleased with myself for my classical education. (I can't ever forget that Narc told me the night that he met me that he started to like me when we were talking about my thesis and he realized how smart I was. So I always love to impress him.)

It's hard for me, in general, to detail nights spent with Narc because one hour blurs into the next, one conversation into the next, one sex-session into the next, and it's all colored by alcohol. We stayed up talking until 6:00 am, consuming between the two of us 1 bottle of wine, 2 bottles of champagne and 1 bottle of gold schnapps (complete with real gold flakes, brought back by Narc from the Schnapps Museum in Vienna. It wasn't Goldschlager, which is a cinnamon Schnapps. This one tasted a little different, was golden colored and was loaded up with flakes. It was in an unmarked bottle, so I have no idea what it is officially called).

Anyway, we had some really interesting discussions--about celebrity culture, aesthetics, the construction of fantasy, etc. I was trying to explain my "Victorian Constructions of the Renaissance" paper to him, and the shift from Medieval to Renaissance revivalism in the Victorian era ("a shifting paradigm," Narc said, knowingly. I thought it was cute). I was rambling on for a long time-- about Walter Pater, about the Whistler-Ruskin trial, about museum culture and the democratization of art, about a million and one things. But it got difficult when I got to the theoretical part about transcending traditional space/time through advertising (and commodity culture), and through the experience of art and the subsequent "time tourism"-- a virtual "traveling" to the past. (Hell, I can't even explain it in one coherent sentence in this blog, let alone try to explain it while downing champagne and schnapps at 4:00 am!) Anyway, it was nice to talk about meaty ideas with him. We more usually talk about our emotional lives or pop-culture shit.

Our discussion of aesthetics brought us to the topic of Wagner. (I love him; Narc hates him. I think that's because Narc can't deal with a lack of boundaries or excessive emotion, whereas I'm all about merging and emotion). I told Narc I had been to see Figaro that afternoon, which is much more his taste. Narc says he completely agrees with Nietzsche's critique of Wagner and that Wagner is totally "un-hummable." (Well, anyone who reads Swiss Toni's blog knows that I've been humming Wagner all week!) Narc challenged me:

"Okay-- without giving it any thought, hum 30 seconds of Wagner. It's impossible--GO!"

I did it easily. I sang Brunhilde's entrance in Siegfried, although I could have picked from a number of things. He was frustrated. He had to concede the point. I laughed. It was brilliant!

I loved everything about him that night. Everything! Just looking at him made me happy.

I LOVE HIM!

At one point when he went into the kitchen, I sent Hammer a text. It was 3:02 am.

I am so totally in love... I wrote.

Hmm... What else happened? Narc insisted that we both take off our clothes in order to achieve the pinnacle of decadence (naked conversation, roses, champagne and gold-leafed liqueur at an impossibly late hour-- is there any doubt about our shared aristocratic inclinations?) Then he told me that I have to read The Life of Pi.

"That's YOUR book, Hyde! Read it! Promise me!"

I promised. Although he wouldn't tell me what it was about the book that reminds him so much of me. (If any of you have read it, maybe you can clue me in as to what it's about...) I told him I would take it as plane reading to Argentina.

Later, we got onto the topic of the blogs. As you guys know, I was upset at Dan's comment and it was clear when I arrived at Narc's place that I had something on my mind. I tried to explain it to Narc without revealing the content of the comment or the post. (It was a little tricky).

"Don't you think it's a little unfair that you can go and read my blog, but I can't go and read yours?" he asked.

"Well, not really. Yours isn't personal at all!"

"It can't be personal. It has my name on it," he laughed.

"Well, I know-- but yours consists of carefully constructed, thoughtful posts. Mine is more like a diary and I just spit them out. I wouldn't want you reading my diary."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?"

"Well, not really... I mean, I trust you, Narc. But I don't know... I mean, you wouldn't want me reading your thoughts like that either, right?"

"I wouldn't care!" he insisted. He looked me squarely in the eyes. "I trust you completely. I would give you the keys to my house in an instant. You could go through anything and everything you want. I trust you completely."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

I thought that was the sweetest thing ever. (The sounds of Hyde's heart and any resolve slowly melting).

"What is it you don't want me to see on your blog?" he asked. (To be honest, I think he was worried I'm so secretive because I'm seeing other guys or something. At least that's what I picked up during this discussion.)

"It's not like I have secrets," I said. "Not at all. You know everything. It's just-- I don't know... I don't want you to know how much I love you, that's all."

"Hyde! I already know that. Don't be silly. Damn it. You know I love you, too."

I absolutely melted. I hate it and love it when he makes me speechless. I'm so fucking emotional!

"Yeah, but come on, Narc... It's embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?"

"I'm embarrassed for you to see how much you effect me! How much all of this impacts me all the time. I guess I just don't want you to see how much it means to me-- how much you mean to me."

"Why not?"

"Because! You said it yourself-- we're NOT in a relationship!"

"What? Hyde! I never said that!"

What the fuck?!?!? This is classic Narc. He loves to re-write the past.

"Narc, don't get crazy on me! You said it in the end of June. You said it over and over and over! That was the whole crux of your argument that night we decided to split up again. Or don't you remember that? I'm sure of it because I have every fucking thing that goes down chronicled on my blog!" (I have an entire post entitled "the Non-Relationship" (from around June 24th). Also, on June 2nd he told me "I don't know what you're so confused about--I've always made it painfully clear that we're not in a "relationship" and that we never were. We're just two people "having fun together.")

"Well..." (and he spoke softer now). "Maybe I did say it. But it's obviously NOT TRUE. I mean, come on... It's been what? A year and a half now? We're OBVIOUSLY in a relationship."

"What?"

"Hyde. Stop it. We obviously are."

"I don't know what you mean, by that," I said.

He started to kiss me. I didn't want to discuss it any further. I didn't want to press the issue. His kisses were sweet and that said more to me than anything else. Later, we lay next to each other and I asked him--

"Do you know what today is the anniversary of?"

"No... What?"

"That day I saw the Blue Angel, and you met me and Hammer at KGB. Remember? And then we went up to your roof?"

"Of course I remember it." He pulled me in closer. "I remember what you said."

He went on to recite many more little details of that night. I was so floored by the fact that it was that meaningful to him. I still can't believe it. When he got up to go int the bathroom, I sent myself a text. It was 5:30 am. I wrote: Remembers the date!

After that, we got into bed. There was some serious drama, but I don't think it's of an appropriate nature to include on this blog, so I'll let it go at that. As we fell asleep, Narc held me and told me over and over that he loves me. (A little ironic in light of the comments-wars that had been ignited earlier in the evening). That night, he wouldn't let go of me, even in his sleep. I loved it.

As for the next day... I have blog fatigue and need to go teach again soon, so you'll have to wait for a Part III. (Damn! This is getting long!)