Some of you expressed interest after my previous post in hearing about what happened with me and Seth. For that I must apologize profusely for the delay! I still had silly real-life problems that were carry-overs from last semester, and they completely stressed me out. The stress totally sapped my creative energy to the point were it was all I could do sometimes to just make one phone call more, or do one my item on my list before trying to cuddle the anxiety away. “Cuddling the Anxiety Away” seems to be a decent problem solving tactic for me, because now my life is fixed and now I can tell you all about my wonderful new relationship!
I’ve been talking about Seth here and there since September when I first met him and became immediately infatuated. I made my interests obvious from the beginning, but it eventually became clear that he was in a relationship. Naturally the discovery dumped a cold bucket of water all over my intentions, but that was okay. In fact, it was more than okay because we ended up really hitting it off with each other and started becoming really close friends. We bonded over Supernatural and heartbreak, and our conversations often lasted into the wee hours of the morning. He was perhaps the biggest support for me in the aftermath of my breakup with Sam, so it should come as no surprise that I came to value his friendship highly. What was surprising (at least for me) was the fact that I also felt very valued for my friendship, which is something I’ve often felt a lack of in my relationships with friends.
When things started getting rocky with his girlfriend we continued to spend lots of time together. Sometimes he would talk about things with her and I would do my best to keep my (extremely) biased opinions to myself, with varying degrees of success. Sometimes he’d clearly be upset but wouldn’t want to talk about it, so I’d send him Tim Minchin videos and do my best to cheer him up. We had a nice, long phone conversation on Christmas day and spent New Years Eve together at a party. We even shared the first dance of the New Year together (this is something that I, silly and sentimental, care much about but he’d probably roll his eyes if I mentioned this to him :P).
The next day, he broke up with her.
I invited him up to visit soon after and part of me was like “show time”, but part of me didn’t really know what to expect. The sexual tension between us had been rising rapidly since my little emotional breakdown some weeks before, but when it comes to sex I don’t like to assume, especially since this was right after the breakup and although he didn’t seem very upset about it I did not want to be insensitive. I guess what I was really hoping for a series of hookups with a really good friend until he moves away in the summer, but I wasn’t quite sure what was in his head and I wanted to wait and see. He came over and started fixing my computer and we were just kind of chilling. I’d decided to wait for him to initiate here because honestly at that point I had already made it glaringly obvious that I wanted to rip all of his cloths off and fuck him senseless, and had wanted to for some time, and it seemed like it would be almost pushy to make a move at that point.
For a while there was a giant white elephant in the room as both of us were unwilling to be the first to bring up the topic of our attraction to each other. He started talking about silly things like how Beauty and the Beast is racist, but every once in a while he’d lapse into these pensive moments. Asking him what he was thinking about was no help, because he’d just say something ridiculous that was clearly <i>not</i> what was on his mind. It was as hilarious as it was frustrating.
At some point he started unbraiding my hair and telling me to let it down more (“You’ve got so much hair, it’s so beautiful. Why do you hide it away?”). After I let my second braid out (“Here, you do this, this is taking too long”) he looked at me for a moment, grabbed the back of my head, and kissed me.
It was like something straight out of a romance novel, or a fanfic. Months of tension and anticipation released into fireworks and sparks and rainbows and unicorns of awesome. In my head I was like “Yes!” and “<i>Finally</i>” and “Dear god, this is <i>amazing</i>” because this was pretty much the best, most intense round of kissing I had ever experienced. I’d never been so attracted to someone for so long and then have it pan out into anything at all, so this was a kind of new, wonderful experience for me. I was just getting into enjoying myself (and him) when he just slows us down, looks at me, and tells me that he’s scared.
“Of what, hon?”
“Of just being a number.”
No one is just a number to me, but even if they were, this is a guy who is <i>incredibly</i> important to me and could never be “just” anything. I told him as much and we had a discussion that pretty much boiled down to the fact that he felt really emotionally connected to me and so he could not separate sex from emotion. He knew that he was prone to jealousy and couldn’t emotionally handle non-exclusivity. I, on the other hand, had the opposite problem; due to recent events monogamy freaked me out and I didn’t know if I was emotionally ready for that, ESPECIALLY if it would mean entering yet another relationship with a predetermined end date (in the summer when he moves about an hour and a half away for his new job).
We found ourselves at an impasse, and pretty much spent the whole night dithering because neither of us wanted to pressure the other into a situation they were uncomfortable with, but we were also having a whole hell of a lot of trouble keeping our hands off each other. We had a lot of conversation interrupted with extended periods of kissing (I’d never had so much fun kissing before!). Once I reached over for a bag of cherios and he grabbed me and kissed me instead. Several times he’d start escalating and I’d tell him to be careful what he pushed us to, because I was all out of “no” (“You never had any ‘no'” he said, and I laughed because I knew it was true).
Eventually though, something had to give, and it did. We ended the night in the wee hours of the morning with a blowjob and orgasms for the both of us, and went to sleep curled up together. (I didn’t feel the need to mention that oral and manual stimulation counted as sex, because things were complicated enough as it is without me going on a rant about how PIV isn’t the only thing that is “real” sex and blah). The next morning we had breakfast and decided to take a few days away from each other to screw our heads on straight and do some thinking outside of the haze of intense sexual energy.
Over the next two days I called all of my friends and all of them told me not to do it, especially the ones who had been there in the aftermath of the terrible heartbreak with Sam. I’d thought I’d agree with them, but when I spent each of the conversations arguing how I <i>should</i> go ahead with it, I knew what I was going to do. I’d never been one to shy away from the risk of heartbreak if I thought there was the possibility of something amazing happening, and I didn’t like my mind’s sudden inclination to do just that. Most of all, however, I knew Seth cared about me deeply, and that I felt the same way, and that I’d never trusted anyone as much as I trusted him.
So I jumped off the cliff.