It’s the middle of first period. I’ve got a notebook and a pen, music pounding in my ears, and enough words and scenes and monsters running through my head to fill the whole damn thing and beyond. I’ve got all this energy pent up inside me to set my nerves humming and hands twitching and to make me want to scream.
So let’s get to work.
Stop. Breath. Take a step back. Look around.
What do you see?
Nothing good. A farther retreat from actual people. More of them bother me each day, and they’re the only ones I want to talk to. Others will, but I don’t, and the ones I do I CAN’T SAY ANYTHING TO! They sit and complain about things like boyfriends being too far away, things they have to do, all the fucking real world things that don’t matter. Or at least not the way they think they do. What matters to me? Do you care?
And even if I knew, and you did, would I be safe telling you?
Let’s hope so.
Start with the fact that I’m not sure, take it from there.
It’ll make things so much easier.
But not now. Not while I’m afraid.
There. That’s better.
Need to get the energy out. But HOW? Contact, but what kind? Sex doesn’t seem to interest me, except intellectually. While I find the idea appealing that’s about as far as it goes. It’s hard to explain.
It’s about sharing. That’s what the act of sex is to me – a complete sharing of two bodies. And I can not separate it from other forms of sharing. Maybe that’s why I’m not interested in having sex with anyone. To take an overused template, physically and mentally, I have to be able to accomplish both with the same person. It’s probably why I can’t really share my thoughts with anyone here – I’m looking for both. Goddamnit, it’s not even the act of sex itself that I’m looking for, just the duality of space found in the hollows formed between two bodies, the stickiness of skin pressed together for far too long, the shifting of limbs as we attempt to increase shared surface area. THAT’S what I’m after. And to lay like that and speak, share ideas…
I could see myself with Ada. She’s attractive, and she wouldn’t mind, and we’d both like it. But I CAN NOT talk to her on a serious level, and so the feelings are gone. Arousal only comes from direct physical contact with her, and that’s not what I’m looking for. I actually can’t think of a single person that I feel both for, not here. Someone like Tara maybe, but sadly (and I mean that in both ways) the lack of gaming takes away far too much context. Frightening as the thought may be it seems that my only refuge lies on New Bremen - Reisha. Caitlin listens, but I don’t know if she understands. The difference is crucial. I think she might but all the dangers of the situation lie in that uncertainty. Emmy, as a sidenote, is completely useless. Sometimes I wonder what she’s like when she’s serious, but I’m afraid that the first time I try will be greeted with inanities.
But I think that Reisha understands me. And maybe even more than that, she’s understanding. Talking to her yesterday showed that. Not only does she agree with me about things like that, but the reasons seem the same. She sees the same problems, understands why they upset me so and why I feel the need to change them. As for understanding – she came back. That’s the long and short of it. She heard what I had to say, saw what I did and how I felt, and she came back. Iris would do the same, but again only in real life – and nothing physical would ever happen.
But what now? She’s a continent away, years more mature. The former confounds, the latter intimidates. When she called me, the fact that she was drunk intimidated me because she could be – that’s what made it different from when my friends get drunk. Her having friends and dealing with them frightens me AND I DON’T KNOW WHY!
Is it because she’s older? Because I want to talk to her without being interrupted? Because I can’t deal with people in general?
Or do I like her?