Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, commitment, dating, kissing, relationships
Success! I finally have a boyfriend. Who would have thought after eight years that I would actually succeed in settling down? Unfortunately, it lasted barely 48 hours, but still! I got to call someone my boyfriend for one night…until I panicked about my single status and sent him packing.
An old friend came into town the other day out of the blue. I had no idea he was visiting until he was already here. Joe is a friend from college, a very sweet man and someone who I attempted to date back in college. If you think I’m crazy now, you should have seen what I was like then. I was a freaking shit show. I’d break your heart the moment I shook your hand. Well, Joe didn’t know this and unfortunately attempted to tame me. I tried to give it a shot but he was way too nice. Plus I had thought he was gay before he asked me out. I need fight in my men. I need spirit and the ability to go drink-for-drink with me; not kind eyes*.
The one time we actually went on a date, it was an accidental three hour night. He asked me to coffee post-class and three hours later I was lying to get out of dinner. Coffee turned into lunch, then into wandering around a book store… it lasted forever. For the rest of our college careers, Joe secretly pined for me… apparently (he told me this later, I’m not being conceited). It just never ended up working out because I was way too bat shit to settle in a relationship.
Now three years later, I’m still afraid of commitment, but I am trying to give it a shot. Baby steps, baby.
Joe was in town the other day. He came on a day that I happened to be a little depressed. At the bar I work at, some customers were making fun of me for being single… which usually doesn’t affect me, but that day it stung a little. Then, out of the blue… Joe texted me saying he was in town and that he always had a crush on me. BINGO. Definitely needed to hear that.
Joe asked me if I wanted to hang out after work, so I agreed. It was late, so we went back to my place with a bottle of wine and a six pack. He had had a few beers before he met me so he felt comfortable telling me how much he liked me in college and all of that shit. Apparently that is all I needed to hear. I was hooked. A few glasses of wine later… I was game for commitment apparently.
We grabbed some beers and walked around my neighborhood. Two seconds into the walk we were kissing. He was a gooood kisser. We walked hand in hand for an hour and then went back to my place. He lifted me up and threw me on the couch, it was passionate making out. We retired to my bedroom and continued the kissing until he asked me if I wanted him to go down on me. I haven’t had any sort of sexual contact in over a year and I said no!!! Look who’s growing up! I refused sex in my drunken state because I want to start a relationship before I engage in sexual activities. (who the fuck is this girl???)
Lying in bed, he talked about wanting to be with me and be my boyfriend. I said yes. He talked about moving to where I live (he lives two states away….) and I actually called him my boyfriend!!! What???!!
(Writing this story now, makes me want to vomit a little bit. You all know I’m not a mushy relationship person… so I’m feeling a bit queazy!)
The next day I drove him back to the hotel, we texted that day and the next day we hung out again after work. I was sort of regretting my hasty decision to be in a relationship so we avoided that conversation and he left with just one kiss goodbye. It was fun having a boyfriend for a day, but I still don’t think I’m ready for any sort of commitment. He is coming to visit me in a couple of weeks though! What is with these men wanting to move across country for me? I seriously must be an amazing kisser!
*Anastasia speak for gay eyes.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, boyfriends, dating, friendship, humor, kissing, relationships, sex, women
I am going to share some things with you from times that I should have called in an early night, but didn’t. This way you can learn from my mistakes and call it a night before these things happen!
1. When you wake up in someone else’s clothes and look over and see a naked hairy man snorting a line of coke off the bedside table – you probably shoulda called it a night.
2. When you wake up on a couch with your best friend’s brother who is three years younger than you, his hand down your shirt and beer bottles and pizza scattered all over the table – you probably shoulda called it a night.
3. If you wake up in the basement of a football player’s house wearing the remains of a fairy costume next to an uncircumcised man and you have to do the walk of shame through their apartment over the other football player you were previously hooking up with only to return to your home where your panties were raided and spread all over the house and blood smeared on the walls from a “wrestling” injury – you probably shoulda called it a night.
4. If you wake up next to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend lying in your bed while your best friend is in the next room – you probably shoulda called it a night.
5. If the van door suddenly jolts open to reveal your friend who is in love with you staring at you in horror because you are naked and your current lover’s parts are still inside you – you probably shoulda called it a night.
6. When you wake up and your current lover is frantically trying to find one of the condoms from your night of fun – only for the condom to reveal itself later stuck in “places” – you probably shoulda called it a night.
7. When you wake up in Coney Island on the subway train, covered in puke and have no idea how to get to Brooklyn – you probably shoulda called it a night.
Yeah when you wind up here and can't figure out how to get to Brooklyn, you must have had a rough night - because this is the last stop in BK
8. If you and your friend end up in a random apartment lying next to practical strangers and they ask you to shower with them the next morning – you and your friend probably shoulda called it a night.
9. When you wake up covered from head to toe in stale beer and you have two stamps from the location where you partied the night before, stamped on your nipples – you shoulda called it a night.
10. When you wake up cuddling with an old friend, a bloody elbow, a fat lip from being punched in the mouth and 18 text messages from a desperate man – you probably shoulda called it a night.
- Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, anastasia, dating, friendship, relationships, surprises
Sometimes I’ll catch a look in my friend’s eye when she doesn’t know I’m watching. They light up like she’s watching fireworks, yet they look like they are building with tears. When these moments happen, she’s always smiling and I don’t have to ask what is making her happy anymore.
“I feel like a proud mother watching all my kids have a good time together” is generally the gist of what she says. When all her favorite people are in one room together, with no reason to celebrate other than having an amazing time just being together, that look engulfs her. And I love it, because she looks so beautiful with such happiness on her face. If I could figure out how to make my friends that happy all the time, I would gladly give up everything that’s special to me.
I had one of those nights on Saturday, but it was a bittersweet evening.
My friend just turned twenty five and casually mentioned a few months ago that he’s always wanted a surprise party. So, we set up a surprise party at one of our favorite dive bars. I was convinced he knew, somehow. Why else wouldn’t we ask him what he wanted to do for his birthday? Blasé is a good definition for how we all acted whenever he brought up his birthday and not because we weren’t excited for it, we just didn’t want to blow the surprise.
Ex-lady friend headed to the bar before us to set up banners made of pictures of his favorite things: nacho cheese, cigarettes, alcohol, Aunt Jackie, and prunes all decorated the back of the bar. Happy Bat Mitzvah and princess balloons hung in the air. Someone brought brownies and best of all, we managed to wrangle up wrist bands for 24oz beers priced at a bargain $4.50 all night.
Had the party happened three weeks ago, it would have been one of the best nights of my life.
We brought the birthday boy and a few other friends to the bar once we knew the majority of guests were ready and waiting. He passed through the front of the bar, skirted by a slew of random hipsters and made his way to the back. Everyone was waiting and gathered around a table. When he saw us his smile was bright. His face light up. He looked genuinely happy and completely surprised. The plan had worked.
Side note: there’s nothing I love more than seeing my friends smile. It’s those deep, honest smiles that come from the heart that make you truly grateful for the people in your life who aren’t family by blood but certainly are more than friends.
It was one of those proud-momma moments for me. Seeing him so happy made me happy. I’ve never seen him look more handsome than he did at that moment. He temporarily took my mind off the breakup, unemployment, grad school and everything else that was fogging my mind lately.
I hate admitting this (because the climax of the night came so early on) but the best part was experiencing my friend’s happiness with him. After that, however, the night became a battle for me. I fought the lush in me who wanted nothing more than to tell the lady friend that I missed her and wanted her to be happy, even if that happiness came at the expense of mine. But I abide by the rule that sober thoughts mean more than drunk ones, so I bit my tongue. I did my best to ignore her, not out of animosity but out of protection for myself and her. It was (and still is) too soon to let her back into my life. I couldn’t bear sharing my happiness with someone who just, unintentionally, inflicted so many deep wounds within me.
So, to avoid one of those drunk-man’s-words-equal-sober-man’s-thoughts moments, I did what I do best: avoided her while acting like I was having the best time of my life.
Yes, I was having a good time. I enjoyed each drink and was happy to see old friends. But that annoying little voice in the back of my head kept reminding me how much better the night could have played out had she been on my arm. That voice that is difficult to silence when it gets louder with each drink. How do you combat something that you know is bad for you in the long run but temporarily makes you feel better about all that is wrong in your life? This is the epic war I fight with myself each and every single day. It’s exhausting.
I absolutely hate that the last few stories I have written have either centered around ex-lady friend or involved her to some extent. There are so many more elements in my life that I am grateful for: family, friends, health, etc. Yet, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get her off my brain. It makes me feel like a weak individual, burdening everyone with my petty problems. If I could disappear until this blows over, I most certainly would. But hiding wouldn’t work because she always seems to find me. And she has no idea.
-Anastasia Beam
Filed under: this and that | Tags: anastasia, boyfriends, dating, ex, girlfriends, relationships, women
I’m responding to a reader’s comments in a post because that’s exactly what it deserves. And, also, I have to give David a shout out for being one of the most awesome readers and thank him for his kind words that made me feel much better. So thank you, good sir. I hope you are having a lovely day.
To see David’s comment about the last article visit: I blame optimism.
Now, it’s business time. Let’s talk about being friends with an ex. The elusive theory I never thought I’d encounter but now have been thrown into. David asked if, in my opinion, it will be easier or more difficult to revert to friends with the ex since we are of the same sex.
I can only answer this question with my own personal experiences and what I know from watching friends go through similar experiences in the last year. Currently, I am not friends with any male that I slept with, had a relationship with, or fooled around with post high school. I am friends with one guy I fooled around with in high school and lucky for me, he’s one of my best friends on earth. With this one exception, I strictly abide to the policy of “get me off and get out of my life” apparently.
It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with these men, but for various reasons our relationship deteriorated into either unsalvageable or not worth the effort. In the case of ex boyfriend I physically cannot be friends with him yet. I know myself too well and hearing his voice will always make me want more.
The situation with the ex lady friend is a little different. This was my first same-sex relationship and at the end has left me in a wake of nothing but more confusion and more alcohol. For example: who will I date or sleep with next? Will it be a man or a woman? I don’t know. I loathe bisexuality. I loathe it like I loathe the Yankees. This is probably the most hypocritical statement I have made all week, too. I loathe it because, in my experience, people announce their bisexuality with fireworks. It’s such an attention-seeking move. It represents living in a society in which people are defined drastically by their sexuality. And that’s such bullshit because people are defined by so much more than sexuality. Sexuality makes up a tiny percentage of who you are.
But this is a hypocritical statement because for now I am bisexual. See? Even just typing that makes my skin crawl. There are things I love about both sexes. I love beards. I love broad shoulders. I love deep voices that come with light touches. On the other hand, I love curves. I love soft skin. I love light voices and even lighter touches. I love turning people’s heads when they see me holding a girl’s hand. And I would not be interested in a woman with a beard, broad shoulders and a deep voice; just as I’m not interested in a man with curves and a falsetto.
Part of the reason why I’m having trouble getting over this (even though we’re still only on the second week) is that she never pushed me to answer the question of if I am gay or straight, and now I’m pushing myself to answer it.
Anyways, sorry, got a bit off topic there.
I have a pretty tight-knit group of friends who are lesbians and, conveniently, all friends with their exes. To answer David’s initial questions: I think it is easier for women who are in same sex relationships to remain friends with other women they were romantically involved with.
Because, generally, women are more emotional. We are more willing to go an extra mile for a friend or lover. We value close relationships with friends and even closer relationships with lovers. Now, this is not to say that men are not emotional and don’t care about their significant others but it’s just a different level with women.
This friends-with-the-ex theory is such a delicate balance. It takes time, a shit ton of effort and a bucket full of tears. And it can be a very, very fine line. This is partially what destroyed my relationship with the ex lady friend: she’s not over her ex. And look at that, they are friends!
That’s not always how it works. That could just be a unique situation. Honestly, I think my ex will be able to be friends with her ex, too, and in turn I’ll be able to be friends with her. One day. Hopefully.
- Anastasia Beam
Filed under: douche baggery | Tags: alcohol, alexis, anastasia, boyfriends, commitment, dating, friendship, green bay packers, kissing, new york city, rangers, relationships
I do not scare easily. Spiders gross me out, but I can handle them if need be. Love heights- flying is like home to me. But throw that “commitment” word around and I bolt faster than a shot fired from a gun. There will be an Alexis-sized hole through the nearest wall.
My horoscope characteristics: a nagging need to feel free (which can lead to trouble), fears responsibility, impatient, a risk taker and gambler at heart, argumentative and has a lack of commitment. Soooo very true.
So when someone tells me they want to enter a committed relationship, I freak out. Especially if I don’t see it coming. Now you know why I haven’t had a boyfriend in the last eight years. There were some events that triggered this fear, but that’s a much longer story best saved for a therapist.
Well, when I went to visit Anastasia, not only did I have a wonderful time with her, but I also was put into a “scary” situation. A man told me he was “head over heels crazy about me.” Fuck that makes me shudder even now.
I knew a lot of people from this bar I used to work at in NYC, one of which I had gone on a date with about two years ago. Billy is a super nice person and I enjoyed his friendship a lot. But dating? Yeah, not so good of a time. He just wasn’t for me. I was in my “nice guys finish last phase,” where I only dated horrible men. So, Billy, he would never have worked out. I ended up avoiding him until I moved.
Since being away from Billy, we were able to establish a pretty sweet friendship. We have a playful football rivalry (Packers v. Giants) so we tend to talk a lot during football season. Finally I decided to go back for a visit (to visit Anastasia) and I ended up mentioning this to Billy. He got excited and told me he’d take me to a Rangers hockey game while I was there. This excited me because I wanted to see the old gang.
In the weeks leading up to my visit, Billy and I had begun talking a lot. Even to the point that I may have developed a slight crush on the guy. It was a I-like-you-only-because-you-live-far-away kind of crush. But who knows. Maybe, since I’m now 25, I am mature enough for a relationship? So I was excited to see him and therefore told him so.
Things turned sour fast. Our flirtation turned into “I’ll do anything to be with you,” in zero-60. It was bad. It didn’t help that I got hammered at the game and ended up making out with him. My bad. In my defense I didn’t know it’d lead to the following text conversation that happened the day after the game.
Billy: There’s something I wanna tell you when I get home tonight
Me: Um OK that makes me nervous
Billy: Haha don’t be. It’s nothing bad. Just something I’ve wanted to say for awhile.
Me: I hate waiting
Billy: I promise it’ll be worth the wait.
Me: Just give me a hint
Billy: It has to do w/how I feel about you but I’m a little nervous to say it
Me: That’s what I thought
Billy: I’m just gonna say it now… I’m head over heels crazy about you
Billy: You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the honor of meeting
Billy: Honestly, I want to do whatever it takes to be w/you even if it means packing up and moving out to where you are
Billy: I mean it. I want you in my life no matter what it takes
Billy: I love being near you. I miss you so much and I wish I had you in my arms right now
Ah, ah, ah… cue hyperventilating. Yikes. What the fuck happened. I know I’m a damn fine kisser, but holy shit, I did not see that one coming. I had to squash this shit quick.
The texting continued for the rest of the weekend that I was visiting Anastasia. He said more things like “I want to protect you,” and other creepy shit like that. I had to agree to meet with him on Sunday in order to “discuss” what we were going to do.
Sunday rolls around and I really didn’t want to go, but I felt it necessary. I go to meet him to watch a football game somewhere downtown. When he sees me, he immediately goes in for the kiss. I turn my cheek. He tries again. I turn my cheek again. HE FUCKING TRIES AGAIN. Yes, he really did for a third time. That last time I finally just pulled away. That shit wasn’t happening. Then he goes for the hand holding. There is nothing that scares me more than public displays of affection… but I felt bad. This man was going to cry if I didn’t do something.
We end up walking around for almost an hour trying to find a bar. It was rainy and gross. Did not help the situation. We finally found a bar. We sat down and took off our coats. He was wearing the EXACT same outfit as me. Son of a bitch. I AM THE PACKER FAN, NOT HIM. But to impress me he decided he would wear a Packer shirt. Fuck, I had decided to wear mine as well, in remorse of the fact that the Packers were out of the playoffs. Never thought he’d wear a GB shirt as well, especially since he’s a Giants fan. We looked like morons.
As soon as we sat down he said: I just want you to know that I’m serious, I’d do anything to be with you, even if that meant moving.
My response? - Oh… uh that’s not necessary.
In the next two hours I proceeded to tell him that I didn’t want to date him, didn’t want him to move, that I’m a tad bit crazy, that I sort of married my yoga teacher in Bali… and so much more. Nothing scared him. My goodness, all you have to say to me is the “C” word and I’m scared out of my mind. Shit son. He’s like Earnest on steroids. Where do I find these men? It didn’t end well; I think he thinks we are getting married next month… I didn’t want to crush his soul so I tried to be nice. I’ll have to go for a more drastic tactic next time. Anastasia saved me half way through the “date.” Our code text was “I hate Brett Favre.” Which was appropriate because I was watching the Vikings game. She called and said I had to meet her sooner rather than later so we could go to a dinner party. I made Billy leave the bar shortly after.
He walked me to my train, kissed me, and I ran for my life, slightly fearing he may have gotten on my train in a different car. Yikes.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: this and that | Tags: anastasia, dating, kissing, relationships, sex, women
Oh shit. Alcoholic, promiscuous, sporadic, awkward, smoking-obsessed Anastasia is now accountable to someone. Gone are the days of mindless, drunken bar make outs. Goodbye to flings with ex boyfriends and hookups. In a short two weeks (maybe four days of which I spent sober,) I inked my name on one of those relationship contracts most of my friends are so fond of. Think of what this means: pop-ins, phone calls, date nights, sleepovers, and all the limitless unknown I’m soon to uncover again. This is sounding like I’m trapped, scared and or ready to run. You name it. But to be fair, I haven’t been in a relationship for well over two years. It’s new again, like that sweater that’s so pretty and looks soft but really needs to be washed a few times and broken in. So, I’m reminding myself of the good parts too: cuddling on rainy Sundays, having someone miss you when you’re gone, back rubs, cooking dinners together. All the little things I once loved before I let cynicism dominate any budding relationship.
So yeah. I’m dating someone and she’s great.
Wait, what?
Yep, friends. You read that right. Gone also are the days of blow jobs and baby scares. I’m dating a woman. And it’s not as strange or unfamiliar as I expected. But we’ll get to that part eventually.
How this happened is quite the epic story, all too new and personal to spill to the internet machine just yet. To sum it up, it began with two friends, feelings developed, and a risk was taken. Knock on wood, fingers crossed, rub your lucky rabbit’s foot for me- that risk has paid off so far. If a friendship hadn’t been on the line, I wouldn’t have hesitated to rush into sex or a relationship. But since it was, I took it slow.
I haven’t told many people about my new beau…or lady beau, I should say. When not under the anonymity of the internet, I prefer to keep my personal conquests and antics to myself and a close few who proved themselves trustworthy. I know, this is a completely contradictory statement coming from someone who spills her soul and intimacies with strangers via a tiny little blog.
But of those who are not in my immediate circle of friends who saw romance blooming when I did my best to keep it hidden beneath bottles of gin and poorly-thought out jokes, there have been a few questions. What’s is dating a woman like? How is the sex compared to sex with men? Are you gay?
All valid questions. So here are some answers:
What dating a woman is like (so far)
I thought I understood my friends who embarked on their first lesbian relationships while considering themselves mostly straight but you’ll never fully understand until you’re face is thigh-deep at three in the morning. Women are soft. Women are considerate. Women are giving. Women read other women better than any man on his best day. And none of this is to discredit men, because some of my best friends are men who are considerate and giving creatures. But the level of unspoken communication that occurs between two women versus a man and a woman is almost unbelievable. I haven’t come across an instance where “I’m fine” actually meant the opposite in our relationship. Because we don’t fuck around with games and poor communication. When I don’t want to think or talk, I tell her and she respects it. When she wants to discuss our status, she tells me and we do.
At the same time, women can be tricky and slightly more moody than men. I know this because I see it in myself and while I haven’t come across it in my relationship thus far, I’m bracing myself.
How is the sex compared to sex with men
I’ll answer this fully when you tell me how to compare apples to oranges. Sex with a woman versus sex with a man are two completely different entities that comparing the two would ultimately demean both experiences.
What I can tell you, however, is that sex with a woman is similar to a wrestling tag team match: your turn, my turn, your turn, my turn, tag in, tag out, tag in, tag out. When you know your partner’s sex organ isn’t going to explode and go soft, you’re a lot less concerned with getting yours and can focus on giving more.
Am I gay
I consider myself the luckiest girl on earth who is dating an out, open lesbian. She has never asked this question of me, never pushed me to tell her one way or the other. Do I think I am gay? No. I do not. Call it denial if you’d like. Fine. I’m still attracted to men (most notably on a Jake Gyllenhaal kick right now.) but am committed to a woman because she’s amazing and makes my head spin. Sexuality is fluid. If you consider yourself one hundred percent straight or one hundred percent gay, you’re lying. And that’s fine, should that be the route you chose to take. Because perhaps more important than knowing where on the scale you lay is knowing that sexuality is incredibly personal, intimate and need only to be shared with those you see fit.
Bottom line: she’s awesome and I just doubled my wardrobe.
-Anastasia Beam
Filed under: this and that | Tags: 2009, alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, dating, las vegas, men, new year, relationships, sex
I just wanted to take the time to be a little nostalgic as this year comes to a close and I look back over the last twelve months. Ha! Who am I kidding, 2009 sucked. I am very much looking forward to 2010. I would like to bring you all through the journey of my last twelve months.
January: Dating a drug addict, awesome. Earnest starts to like me. Anastasia and I decide to start this blog!!
February: Sleep with my marine friend who acts like a 12-yr-old girl. Decide to join the Navy as an officer.
March: Applying to the Navy. Things with Earnest really heat up.
April: Finish applying to the Navy, the process takes a long time. Still trying to get rid of Earnest.
May: Decide against the commitment of the Navy. Decide to go celibate for six months. Hit up Vegas with my roommates from college for a smashing good time.
June: Best friend gets married – make horrible decisions. Few dates with hot New Zealander.
July: Anastasia and I are too busy being crazy during the summer months to write anything.
August: I go to Wisconsin to visit old friends – oh wait, I haven’t written about that yet – yeah that was a good time, look forward to that story soon!
September: Disaster with New Zealander strikes.
October: Still celibate and not by choice.
November: Travel to Bali on a yoga retreat! It was my birthday present to myself. Oh and along the way I seemed to have sort of married my yoga teacher? Strange.
December: Christmas in Wisconsin and Minnesota, attended a killer Green Bay Packer game, and ended this year quite nicely.
All in all this year was not as bad as 2008, but I have a feeling that 2010 is going to be phenomenal. Especially since I get to visit Anastasia in two weeks! Oh the ruckus we will cause.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: douche baggery | Tags: alexis, eric dane, kissing, mcdreamy, men, new zealander, player, relationships, yacht
Read part one: Asshole of the year
I have done the walk of shame many-a-time… but the run of shame? Never happened before tonight.
Oh you cunning little New Zealander, you. How the hell did you convince me to stay?
I was not about to be left alone with the player New Zealander after his roommate went to bed, so I decided to go home. New Zealander had to escort me back up the dock to free me from the locked gate. We made small talk which was nice. After all, I was trying to be his “friend”.
He fidgeted with the lock, thus encouraging more conversation. By the time we got through the gate, our conversation had taken a deadly turn into personal sharing and emotional story time. It was no longer about work, weather, rainbows, and various topics acceptable to discuss with strangers in awkward social situations. He shifted the tone into loneliness, his Alaskan girlfriend, hopes and whimsical dreams. Shit. How did it get so far so fast? I was just trying to be pleasant.
Ten feet away from my car. I was ten feet away from freedom and almost released from the obligatorily numbing pleasantry exchange. But no, of course the conversation took a nose dive for the worse:
New Zealander: Yeah, this job can be lonely sometimes when you move around all the time
Me: If you are lonely, fix it. I don’t buy the whole shit theory that your job makes you lonely. If you miss your girlfriend who just went to Boston, go visit her. Okay. Well…have a good night. I’m sure everything will work out.
Attempt to exit stage left.
New Zealender cue tears.
Me (aside): Fuck me sideways. He’s crying? He’s fucking crying? I’m so fucking close to my car I could touch it and he’s CRYING? Damn this shit night will be longer than I had hoped.
He literally cried. Wept. Man, this player is fucking good because I fell for it. He cried! Everyone has a weakness and mine just happens to be tears. When I see eye ducts flowing freely with beads of saline and emotion, I want to fix it.
Tears streaming down his face, he started to explain his “situation.” He was lonely. He wasn’t sure he liked the job. He doesn’t want to work and travel all the time…sob.
I did my best to be a friend. And I thought I was doing a damn fine job. It was now 3:30 am and cold outside.
We sat outside talking at the gate until about 4am, when we decided to go sit on the warm little boat and finish our talking. By this time I was hooked. This “poor” guy was so broken. I actually, legitimately felt bad for him.
He grabbed a sweatshirt for me from the “big yacht” and then we went to go sit on the 30-footer, or small yacht. He laid out on the bed and I sat on a chair on the bed so we could finish talking. I prided myself on being JUST A FRIEND. I did not want to date or hook up with him in anyway, I still knew he was an asshole.
I kept thinking as I sat there “please don’t fall for me right now, please don’t fall for me right now.” I knew he would. I have some sort of a weird power with my eyes that when used properly I can totally seduce men with the blazing blues. (*note: New Zealander later told his roommate that my eyes were what made him do it.)
As he gazed into my eyes, he started saying shit. “You are an amazing person.” “This feels really right.” “You are very beautiful you know that.” To which I responded, “yeah I know I am thanks.”
I kept saying to him over and over “I will be a really good FRIEND to you.” It didn’t work.
Next thing I knew he was kissing me. I let it happen for a second and then pulled away thinking ‘please think this is a mistake and don’t do it again.’ I really wanted him to not kiss me. I knew I had no control over the situation. If he kissed me, I’d definitely kiss him. Why? Because kissing is my most favorite pastime and he’s hot. So I was just hoping he would have realized it was a mistake. But he didn’t.
He pulled me up to the bed where we continued making out until 6:30am!!! I totally KNEW BETTER! WTF. I totally fell for all his lines and I knew it was such a bad idea to do that. Good news is I didn’t sleep with him.
I do have to admit, it was super fun making out with the hot New Zealander. But what followed, was utter humiliation. At 6:30am I said it was time to go home so we got off the boat. Oh! Wait! Here is a fun side note: we weren’t supposed to be on that boat and his boss was awake now. Awesome. I was shuttled back onto the small boat to wait. We had to WAIT until the boss went to bed and stopped watching the cameras. New Zealander went onto the big yacht to watch his boss and communicate with me via phone as to when I could get off the boat. Talk about humiliation.
A call around 8am told me to RUN! The boss had gone to the bathroom and I had to literally run down the dock. After sitting alone on the small boat for an hour and a half. I was pissed. I knew I’d never hear from New Zealander after that. I knew it was a bad idea. I don’t regret it, because it was fun. Plus New Zealander was quite attractive with his seducing accent, a strong jaw resembling Eric Dane’s and McDreamy eyes… But still, I would like a little revenge for having to do the run of shame.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, boyfriends, commitment, dating, kissing, men, relationships, sex
My passion.
I have an obsession with unavailable men, as Anastasia so lovingly pointed out yesterday in conversation.
Let’s do a play-by-play:
Alexis: Hey, I’m coming to visit you soon.
Anastasia: Awesome.
Alexis: So have you decided if you’re actually in a relationship with that girl?
Anastasia: Fuck if I tell you. You come and visit and if I’m in a relationship with her, you’ll make out with her and ruin my life.
God, It’s so true. Apparently I have a thing for unattainable goals (and by goals, I mean humans). It’s not on purpose. I just happen to fall for people in relationships. Something tells me it has to do with commitment and my utter fear of the word. Therefore, if I subconsciously seek unavailable men, commitment will never be an issue. Healthy, very healthy.
I’m not a bitch. It’s not something I seek to do; I just crush on spoken-for men. I never act on these crushes…well, except for on my birthday a few weeks ago.
I’ve been crushing on this dancer friend of mine, par for the course since I’m sure his girlfriend is lovely. I would have never done anything under any other circumstances.
The situation: my birthday, drunk, his arm around me. Logically, after a few shorts of tequila, I attempted to kiss him? The tequila pretty much erased my memory of the evening. The world may never know if this actually happened, but I have a strongly undeniable feeling that it did. I definitely shoulda called it a night before the shots started.
I’m not proud of my action but it made me think of the past and my history of crushes in relationships. The list is much longer than I expected. I don’t want to break up the relationships of these men but knowing their relationship makes it unrealistic for them to reciprocate feelings, therefore I wouldn’t have to worry about commitment. My innocent crushes remain innocent and avoid complication.
Complication only sparks when I make dumb ass mistakes.
Ah commitment. A seemingly easy task for most people. However, I cannot seem to take that leap. I won’t even commit to a date a week in advance. Too much may happen between Monday and Friday, I may like someone else, something better may come along… You just never know. Hence why most men don’t stick around for too long. They find the “hard-to-get” game that they think I’m playing, fun and quirky in the beginning. Until they realize I’m just never “available.”
I blame my commitment issues on my father. Isn’t that what most daughters do? My dad had quite a few girlfriends when I was growing up. I learned fast and young to never get attached. They always left. When he finally met one that stuck around for awhile, I was so taken aback by the possibility of someone staying around that I tried everything I could to drive her away. Including hiding under the bed when I first met her to crying and slamming my bedroom door when I found out they got engaged.
As I grow up I realize my petty fear of commitment is completely ridiculous and is something I need to get over fast if I ever hope to get married. In attempts to get over this fear, I still have not managed to rid myself of the desire of unavailable men or completely inappropriate men. Those who I do tend to date are ones that I would never have any sort of a future with… a.k.a a drug addict, someone who lives in Texas, a traveling yacht employee… etc.
To catch up on my latest failed dating adventures:
-Alexis Patron
