I had plenty of companionship at the time. I was surrounded by people my own age, who were like me in most respects. And I did appreciate him, to a certain extent. We had a lot of fun. But most of the time I was lusting after him, wanting it to get physical, plotting scenarios in my head that would end up with us naked on somebody's couch.
For a long time I'd been all about sex. I wasn't too interested in a relationship. I always said I wanted friendship and sex-- emphasis on sex. I guess it was sort of a reactionary mode of thinking; I'd had a relationship with this guy before and it ended very badly, and I was just beginning to be uninhibited about sex and wanted to enjoy having it with whomever I chose.
There were a variety of reasons we never did anything. We both lived with our parents, so there wasn't really a place. There were a few moments that might have turned into kissing had certain interruptions not occurred-- once there was this silence, and we both sort of looked at each other, but then I took a drink of my coke-- that sort of thing.
He told me he was a virgin, which sort of freaked me out. He was nineteen, for Chrissakes, and fucking gorgeous. He said it had just never felt right with anyone. I would have loved for it to feel right with me, but I wasn't sure. Low self-esteem kicked in, and also, he knew that I'd been with several guys, many of whom I didn't have strong feelings about. How would someone who wanted his first time to be intimate and perfect view someone like me, who was taking a very hedonistic view of sex at the moment?
Mostly I was just unsure whether he like me in that way. My friend Analisa*, whom I had taken with us on several outings, told me that he did, that he was just intimidated because I was older, and that I needed to make the first move. But I couldn't. He was so good-looking. Sometimes, when you get to know a boy, whom you didn't think much of originally, he gets cuter and cuter. It's as if you've started to know him, like all the things about his personality, and the fact that this person is the owner of that particular face and body just make that face and body more attractive to you. Previous boys had become more attractive to me in that sense-- they got better-looking as I got to know them. Troy wasn't like that. I mean, everyone thought he was fucking amazing. You didn't have to get to know him. And when I did, I thought he was even more handsome. He seemed too cute for me. I couldn't have stood it if he'd been grossed out or something if I tried anything. So I didn't.
Then he left to go back to school, and I started my real job as a teacher. Being around people who were more or less like me was something I always took for granted. But as an adult, or as a teacher, or as a person in my very own particular situation-- whatever-- I don't have that anymore. I'm hardly ever surrounded by people my own age, or who like the same things I do. The people at work are nice, but they mostly have children and husbands and care nothing about music or films or any of the things I'm interested in. I get lonely for people who are like me. Sure, I still have my friends, but the kind of companionship I had with Troy was different. I wish that I'd not been so focused on physical things, and had enjoyed just hanging around with him more.
In high school, I had this best friend, Sharon. We did everything together; we were allies. In any dispute, I knew she'd be on my side. We were a pair, like Samneric in Lord of the Flies. Of course I do want to be an individual, and don't want to be dependent on some other person, but there are times when I miss that feeling that I am someone's favorite person, that I'll always be their partner in games, that if they have good news or bad news I'll be the first to know, that they'd do anything to help me out. I kind of felt that way with Troy. One night at work, I got very stressed out. More and more people at the tables on which I was waiting were being increasingly demanding and complain-y. I came in the back and just started to cry. (I don't handle stress well. ) Troy told me to sit down, gave me a coke, then proceeded to wait on my tables for me. I would've done the same for him.
Maybe it's just that I'm getting older; maybe it's just some phase-- I don't know. But it seems to me that having a comfortable companionship like that is something I should have fully appreciated, and I didn't. Sex is great, but you can have sex with anyone. It's fairly easy to find someone whose outer qualities appeal to you, or you can just masturbate and get the pleasure that way. But finding someone who really interests you, and whom you interest, with whom you can be silent or talk too much or be drunk or bitter or happy or dull, who makes you laugh and cares about you and makes you feel better when you'd like to hit someone or burst into tears or both-- that's kind of rare. (Damn, I sound like a Hallmark card. Sorry.) I have lots of good friends, and I care about them all, but I haven't had the kind of companionship I had with him since that high school friendship with Sharon. Now that he's gone, I miss it a lot. I wish I'd gotten to know him better and taken time to develop our friendship more, because I don't think that companionship is something I will be able to replace easily. In the past, female friends would tell me that they preferred to be friends with guys to having sex with them, and I could never understand that. I think I get it now. Unfortunately, it took a bit too long for me to figure that out.
