I Feel I Must Interject Here

22 05 2007

When I told you how I felt before all of this began, I was being honest and that is how I continue to feel now. Much as I might hope for or try to materialize some profound emotion for you, I cannot. That night, partly under the influence and partly by discretion, I led you to believe otherwise. I said things I should not have, perhaps suffering the delusion of infatuation then, things like, “I love you, I have loved you since we met.” Things that make sparks fly, romance ensue, and mistakes made.

I have gone back to that night many times over. Different from the other nights I’ve drunk, this one is hazy in memory. I can see myself telling you this and leading you to believe I felt this way, but must, at the same time, excuse myself because I had told you how I felt. I was curious, yes, and have even considered excusing myself from the whole thing as an escapade, an adventure in satiating curiosity.

There are two avenues for me. It is quite simply a binary choice today in my life. I can be first, the girl I have always been: the one who intended to save sex for marriage who could never justify sex with curiosity, hedonism, or momentum. I would have to say that I regretted my first time, that my lack of a love for you makes these acts sinful; the first of many regrets of my adult life, ones that I indeed learn from, but as such are regrets nonetheless. For who needs to jump off of a bridge to learn that such an act is senseless?; an individual can learn that lesson another way, to learn it by the act is regrettable.

The alternative is accept what I did and, given my objectivity about the entire event: my declarations of non-love towards you, my curiosity, my hedonism and rather than condemn it, be merely neutral about it. This would be a different, more modern version of myself; this is the adult that everyone becomes, who am I to be blamed for it? While I regret being disingenuous in telling you that I loved you, I do not regret having done what I did. My moral codes have adapted to a new life.

In the first avenue, a girl such as myself could not proceed in the relationship with you in any normal sense. We would go back to the basics: dates, dinners, theme parks, and movies. The occasional kiss and what-not is acceptable. We would have to ignore what happened this weekend and be simply good friends, perhaps friends with a few benefits like kissing. Beyond that, however, is the realm I reserve for whom I love. And I am not there yet with you. I do not know if I will ever be; and to continue the motions would be, in each event, a sort of lie – one not made to you, but a breaking of a personal promise. I make no promises and we can be excellent friends and maybe more. I wish I could offer you the moon, tell you that sex catalyzed my love, give you emotion that I have not. I cannot. I can only promise a glimmer of hope, chance buried next to possibility.

In the second avenue, a girl such as myself could continue to have relations with you in any way that we see fit. If I feel like screwing you and you do as well, then wonderful – we will. An amalgamation of “carpe diem (seize the day)” and “ce la vie (that’s life);” I would live for today, a today without consequences. What makes me happy constitutes my existence, and before you judge, I want to say that there can be nothing wrong in thinking this way. I can separate sex from love (that great adult subtraction problem in the heart). I could learn to have sex with you and later perhaps learn to love you. Whatever happens, happens.

This really isn’t this complicated. Either I give a damn about what I did and move on or I don’t and I move on. I am sorry for lying to you in either case because my views on sex shouldn’t affect my honesty. I am sorry for coming close to using you. I am almost sorry for not loving you – you appeal to all my rational faculties, but then I cannot apologize on behalf of my heart – I am what I feel. I care for you as a friend and I think we can make “just friends” work out. Would you like to start by going with me to get some ice cream?




2 responses

22 05 2007
the shadowpax

its perfect. absolutely perfect. and i will also add that it is a well written piece. though it unfortunately reminds me of ‘for emily’

8 06 2007
the shadowpax

we should talk some time soon

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