It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything here.
As it turns out… life keeps moving rapidly. Even when you keep yelling for a time out. No rest for the semi-wicked, either. Especially when running a new business with your little sister and bickering over her relapse into cigarette smoking. Prozac…
Lin asked me one night why I push people [i.e. men; him] away. I paused then lowered my head and laughed aloud to myself as though I was alone, finding his question comical and ridiculous… which didn’t really go over so well. It was a bit cunty and he wasn’t amused by my overt cynical attitude. Neither am I but really… I can’t believe any man would even ask such a question these days.
Lin… as in the cute Chinese guy I met while hiding out from the rain in a terrible honky tonk bar on Broadway.
It’s true. Whenever I become intimate with a man and begin to soften, as it goes beyond the physical –however great that part may be– I get scared and begin anxiously waiting for that next shoe to drop. A reason to bolt for the door.
It even amazes me, how quickly I disappear like a squid behind a cloud of ink, disappearing into the night. Becoming a stranger before one’s very eyes. It’s kinda sad, I guess.
One night we enjoyed one another nonstop with storytelling, ridiculous jokes, laughing, kissing, and slow hot sex…. I was elated to see him, even getting jittery butterflies at the sight of him. And I was wearing a sheer lingerie and tight chiffon dress… so he could tell from the start that I wanted him.
We didn’t stay long at the restaurant or anywhere else. I kept touching him softly and clinging to his arm, smiling, kissing him in the street and looking up into his eyes.
As soon as we arrived at his place we began to devour one another while struggling to get his door open. I wanted to eat him up and we ended up fucking on his couch and more on his bed. I love it when sweet, soft men fuck hard and then soft and slow again, taking their time, like I do… I just love a sweet man. And Lin is very sweet.
Our kissing keeps growing even more intense each time, which worries me.
I am generally a very passionate lover and will fuck a man as though he might die tomorrow. Because, you never know… he just might. It plays on my mind quite a bit.
At one point I reluctantly reneged and dropped the “friend bomb,” as in, “Ummm… so… Lin, I think it’s best we back up and keep it on the friend level, ya know… for now.” –which he just laughed off, shaking his head. I can’t recall if he said anything.
Some of you guys will automatically presume behavior like mine happens when a girl isn’t into you. Or because you’re Asian?
Sometimes….. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE A GUY. And whatever that entails. You know what I mean.
Past histories of heartbreak and deceit don’t help the matter. There’s nothing like being strung along and deceived by a fiancee who’s enjoying the thrill of his covert little game until you visit his apartment unexpectedly one morning around 7am.
And these days it’s not enough to worry about being deceived, rejected or dropped for no apparent reason… which happens frequently, also to attractive people, to everyone. But the person you love could also simply walk into a café and be shot dead on a random Wednesday morning, while drinking his coffee with his best friend, also– for no apparent reason. I know. Three of my friends, along with several acquaintances, died in two separate, unrelated shootings. Two at a cute little coffee shop in Seattle, owned by a friend of mine, the other just as he was leaving work at a nightclub.
So while I love how attentive Lin is, and how sweet his face looks while listening to my bizarre jokes… it also scares the living hell out of me. Literally, every emotion that tugs at my heartstrings and stirs up the desire to accept love also syncs with chronic chest tightness, nausea and expectations of unforeseen heartache.
In other words…. I’m fucked up. And so are you, probably, to some degree.
Yes, many of us angsty, fearful white/western women just get tired of saying things like “Ummm… sorry, I have trust issues.” and “I might be emotionally unavailable. I uhhhh… kinda have an anxiety disorder and PTSD. Sorry.”
I’m bewildered as I watch Lin lay unconscious and satisfied next to me, much like a sleeping child, while I’m awake thinking… How do you do that? You think I’m cute or whatever… but do you not care about the possibility that I may be some kind of loon or sociopath? What’s the matter with you???
How to trust someone. How…
Yes Lin, I’m sorry that you’re falling for an emotionally wrecked scaredy cat who’s secretly terrified all the time but will never admit it, in case you’re actually a covert narcissist who’s simply pretending to be a sweet guy.
And yeah… that happens sometimes too.