nine thirty pm. i was home for 12 hours already and watching my guts pour on the bottom of the toilet – over and over – for about nine. that’s when that video hit my phone.
my memory was, actually, the one thing that remained untouched by that night. i looked at myself in the mirror before going to bed and i had blood on my dress, glitter all over my face and was about to throw up at any moment. i sure needed water, a shower and list of other things to get my shit together – a reminder of what just happened was not one of them.
but there it was. i just had to hit play.
my friends never party. they hardly go out, even though lately i’m often able to bring them over to drink some wine, watch and dance to beyoncé. but after midnight, never. i’m all about netflix and chill – listen, i’m 34 – but sometimes i’m up for a night out.
how long have i known her, a week? sometimes it feels like more. past the first few days, i rationally decided not to give it much thought or text nor call but then it hit me: we talked about that party. she was planning to go. i could use the company.
by then it didn’t matter if the day we met i woke up at her bed or anything we did prior. we were going together, she was bringing a friend. i would act normal. we would have fun, drink and dance. nothing had to happen. probably nothing would. it was for the best.
at first, i think, we sticked to the plan – a plan i never bothered to communicate. the night was beautiful, the place was perfect, the music sounded great. the people, i can never help but wonder, seemed way more attractive than those that i see at every other place on any other night in this city. most of them, by far, are gay of course. i was glancing around, mesmerised by the outfits and the whole vibe when she handed me a pill.
those fucking pills. are there any interesting people out there that still don’t do drugs like that? as we came to find out, not even me – since i took (half of) it. many many times i chose not to – some i got angry, some i just ignored what just happened. not this time. i was there, i was up for it. for all of it, as i was going to find out a bit later.
her. after days obsessing about it and days hiding from it, there she was again. could i come to any conclusions then? well, she sure is fucking beautiful. (maybe i couldn’t remember how much, or is it that she’s even more tonight?) she is sexy as hell, and in the best possible and non obvious way. i took forty minutes in my makeup and her eyes are way better done than mine. her smile makes me almost angry in amazement. don’t even get me started on the tattoos.
she not only hijacked my eyes, but every single pair at that party. she owns it. she is the coolest thing that ever walked this earth.
in my head i had put my foot down in being just friends and suddenly i was debating – while i noticed i could see her nipple ring through that top. music was loud, my head maybe was spinning. she smiled at me – omg that smile – and kissed me as i just let myself be drawn.
have i mentioned that she knows everybody? well, she knows everybody. i lost count how many people she stopped to say hi to and how many she bothered to make small conversation. she’s been in the city for a little over a year and already is friends with every one.
-have you seen this guy? i think he is here. and there he was. another friend, maybe the 20th guy she said hi to. i did too, making sure i looked relaxed and nonchalant specially because he was so ridiculously my type. whispering in my ear, she made sure to mention: – he’s straight. and winks.
wut? wait, what?
yeah. she is no idiot either. she knew that the fact that she was my thing didn’t mean women were. probably, she said, they are not. – and this is the gayest straight guy i ever met. this is the best compliment i can give a man but, look, he’s so cute too. it’s the only guy that got my attention in ages.
the gayest straight guy i’ve met. lately one thing that is, for me, a major turn off in men is being too straight. it has nothing to do with sexual orientation, actually, but in how they act, what things they like, what friends they have. and this one made the cut. plus, as she made sure i knew, he noticed me too.
one cocktail later, he comes to talk and we do for a few minutes. since things are a bit awkward – at least inside my head – i decide to go and grab a drink. as i come back, there they are making out like crazy. i don’t know why, but that did not surprised me a bit. what made me gasp, though, is how turned on i was by seeing it. those two, while i got my drink, were able to work a plan to get me but never could predict how well it would go. i wanted them both. he took a while to notice, but she saw it instantly.
this is, probably, the sexiest woman alive. i have tons to talk about this subject and the effect it has on me, but this is a information worth making very clear. the level of sensitiveness and perception she carries is something i’ve only noticed in myself. i’m constantly amazed by how she is able to hipnotize me and now i can watch her do it to two people at once.
and we do it together. and i make sure i show i can do it too.
the sun was up for hours now and we were still there, still high, still the three of us making out like crazy in the middle of the dance floor. someone tapes it and that’s the video i get on my phone hours later.
my friend, as i show her, answers: you are fucking 23! i gasp. just let yourself be 23.
but i was 23 once. i really was. i’ve been there. funny you should mention exactly 23. that’s my age when i wrote everything that is haunting me lately for being so close to what i fell now.
