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The First Spot

2

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The first spot was a curve on her cheek near the cor­ner of her lips. It would only appear when she was smil­ing a cer­tain way.

I have this pic­ture of her reclin­ing on the chaise with her head thrown back on the pil­low in laugh­ter. It’s hor­ri­bly com­posed, and I can hear her telling me how weird she thinks she looks in the pic­ture, but it cap­tured the expres­sion perfectly.

The smile wasn’t par­tic­u­larly allur­ing. It was goofy even. But that’s what I loved about it. She was this angel, this siren, this muse to the world, and I was the only one who could see her like this; cheeks pulled back, gig­gling uncon­trol­lably, bury­ing her head in the pil­low from self-consciousness when­ever I pointed out the spot and tried to kiss it. I was the only one for whom she let her guard down, even if only for a pass­ing moment. It was so adorable and inti­mate at the same time.

Date  January 15, 2010
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Categories  Random

You Can't Go Back

14

During his Emmy-award win­ning per­for­mance, Kill the Messenger, Chris Rock had a hilar­i­ous bit on the dif­fer­ences between men and women. He sums it up succinctly:

Women can­not go back­wards in lifestyle. Men can­not go back­wards sexually.

An exam­ple he uses for women is the first time they get into a nice, warm car after club­bing, wav­ing bye to their friends who are wait­ing for the bus in the cold. After that, they can’t be with a man who doesn’t have a car, or as Rock puts it, “That’s how the fuck you roll for the rest of your life”. This extends to guys with their own places, then guys who take them on vacation.

On men, he says, “Once we get the sex we like, that’s how the fuck we roll. I like my cof­fee like this, I like my steak like this, and I like to fuck like this…Ladies, don’t get mad at us. Get mad at our ex-girlfriends. She’s the one that [sic] spoiled it for every­body” because if your ex-girlfriend licks your ass (again, his exam­ple), you expect your cur­rent girl­friend to do the same.

For me, the same is true for girls in gen­eral, but not just in these aspects. I can’t be with a girl who refuses to try exotic foods or refuses to give uncon­ven­tional music a chance, who wouldn’t rec­og­nize the effort I put into my presents, who wouldn’t cher­ish the love and affec­tion I give, who wouldn’t under­stand me, or wouldn’t laugh at my stu­pid jokes, because I’ve been with girls who are a com­bi­na­tion of open-minded, appre­cia­tive, roman­tic, on the same wave­length as me, and actu­ally find me funny (when not com­pletely awkward).

That's why this entire idea scares me.

I know most peo­ple get more flex­i­ble on things about their mates as they head towards (or beyond) the mar­ry­ing age but I seem to be mov­ing the oppo­site direc­tion. Each girl I’ve been with has been an improve­ment over the last. Now the bar has been raised so damn high I don’t think I’ll ever get there again, and I’d rather be alone than com­pro­mise or settle.

My stan­dards are get­ting higher, and I can’t go back.

Date  January 7, 2010
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Categories  Thoughts

Protected: Pursued

14

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Date  January 5, 2010
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Categories  Daily Life

Protected: Reversal of Fortune

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Date  December 15, 2009
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Categories  Random

Two Messages

2

Only a few peo­ple know I have a fas­ci­na­tion with voices, dic­tion, and accents. It’s for this rea­son that I tend to save my voice mails. Well, that and the fact that they can be an inter­est­ing time stamp, because what’s said in them can offer such a tan­gen­tial view of your life. Here are two good ones in the past few weeks.

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The first is John, and now that he’s sin­gle, he’s avail­able1 on Saturday nights. I hap­pen to be both these things as well, though him much more recently, so hav­ing him approach me about my avail­abil­ity is awesome.

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The sec­ond is Heather, who has one of the nicest voices I’ve ever heard. It’s always soft and so sweet, with a slight tinge of raspy that gives it a bit of sex­i­ness. Though, as a very shy and mod­est per­son, she would prob­a­bly blush and smile if you ever told her.

  1. This term between us usu­ally refers to talk­ing on the phone, play­ing a game, and watch­ing a few videos. [↑]
Date  November 11, 2009
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Categories  Random

What I Mean To Say

10

Usually, when peo­ple ask me why it was so spe­cial, I say “When it worked, it worked really well”.

What I really mean to say is,

“It was the way her kisses would travel down my spine. The way she wore her hair dif­fer­ently every time I saw her. The way her cheeks would round so endear­ingly when she truly laughed. The way she could look beau­ti­ful wear­ing dresses, or jeans, or my old paja­mas. The way the tan­ta­liz­ing golden down trav­eled along her lower back. The way her body felt against mine when I pulled her close.

It was because she brought me green tea bub­ble bath when I was home sick for three days with strep throat. Cause she loved try­ing new things, like taro dumplings, and ha gow and sui mai and tofu flower, and bub­ble tea. Cause she would buy me ben­gal spice tea, and hand creams, and soaps, and flow­ers for no rea­son in particular.

It was because she liked tak­ing pho­tos of me too. Cause she would remem­ber the things I wanted when men­tion­ing them in pass­ing so she could look them up and buy them for me later. Cause she truly appre­ci­ated the gifts that I gave her. Cause she spent so long prepar­ing for my birth­day last year, even though she knows I don’t cel­e­brate it. Cause she helped me seek ther­apy for my anx­i­ety issues. Cause she came with me to con­certs when I didn’t want to go alone. Cause she loved The Mars Volta and Shane Watt as much as I do.

It was the way she could cre­ate so many beau­ti­ful things with her hands, using paint or chalk or toner or lead or metal or choco­late. The way she sup­ported me and my pho­tog­ra­phy. The way we would take turns choos­ing movies and watched them together, even though our tastes were so dif­fer­ent. The way she got along with my friends and loved my cat.

It was the way I would fall in love with her over and over again every day.

In her, I had found the per­son I was look­ing for my whole life, and she held me cap­tive every moment we were together.”

But I never do.

Date  October 30, 2009
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Categories  Random

Sex In Between

0

One time, she sud­denly asked me, “Have you had sex with any­one else?”, which she used to imply as between the last time and what we were about to do. It was a valid ques­tion, since we’re both sen­si­tive to the pro­lif­er­a­tion of Cupid’s itch and Venus’s curse.

I was insulted that she asked, because at the time I felt like sex with some­one else would have been cheat­ing on her. As uncom­mit­ted as the rela­tion­ship was, she still had my heart, and con­se­quently, other parts of my body as well. I’m also not like that, and it takes a lot before I decide to be inti­mate with some­one. But at the same time, I was flat­tered that she thought I would or could, a lit­tle boost to my ego that is rarely ruled by machismo or testos­terone.

“I haven’t either”, she reas­sured, which was some­thing I nat­u­rally assumed of my mod­est muse, so it was of lit­tle com­fort to me.

Date  October 26, 2009
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Categories  Random

The Regret Of A Night Lost

3

I should be happy. Or feel­ing bit­ter­sweet, at least. On the one hand, I’m thank­ful to have had the chance to share so many things with her:

  • lis­ten­ing to Bring Me The Disco King (Lohner Remix), as she sat curled in my lap in the dark­ness of my room
  • runs for bub­ble tea before set­tling in for the night with a movie or two
  • a road trip to Toronto, where I got to intro­duce her to my friends, Pacific Mall, and dragon’s beard candy
  • par­ties at Pat and Jen’s, with board games, Rock Band, deli­cious food, amaz­ing peo­ple, and gen­eral silliness
  • moments like this
  • look­ing into her eyes while our bod­ies were locked in blan­kets on the liv­ing room floor
  • read­ing my favourite parts of The Prophet to her
  • just the two of us going to dim sum on a beau­ti­ful Saturday morn­ing, and intro­duc­ing her to a med­ley of new dishes

But there’s one thing I regret, and that’s not being able to spend the night with her, for she had never slept over, you see. Sure, there were times when we stayed awake well past sun­rise, with only the touch of hand and flesh as silent dia­logue, my desire to pro­long the plea­sure dri­ving my will to stay awake to every moment pos­si­ble with her. Those are some of my favourite mem­o­ries. But the sleep that even­tu­ally took us was only our bod­ies pass­ing out briefly from exhaus­tion, and when we woke, she’d be gone soon after.

There are other things I wish I had had the chance to do while it lasted — shar­ing a relax­ing bath, pho­tog­ra­phy and video ideas, get­ting involved in a deep co-op game — but none of them were as impor­tant as a night spent sleep­ing together.

A long time ago, I wrote about how a girl­friend helped me fig­ure out the impor­tance of the night because of my ear­lier romances, and the sit­u­a­tions that never let me share some­thing as sim­ple as sleep, the most inti­mate of intimates.

In a rela­tion­ship, shar­ing the night is more impor­tant than shar­ing flu­ids. Falling asleep with some­one is an accep­tance of trust, a way of say­ing that we’re com­fort­able enough to drift into our sub­con­scious minds.

Perhaps it was my fault for keep­ing her awake. I won­der now, if on one night, I should have let myself sleep, instead of let­ting our pas­sion take us long into the next day.

Date  September 9, 2009
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Categories  Random

Protected: Love Weak

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Date  September 4, 2009
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Categories  Random

No Fair

16

(A brief con­tin­u­a­tion of my dia­grams for heart­break.)

Diagram for heartbreak: You're supposed to have only one heart

Date  August 30, 2009
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Categories  Random

Still

5

She was look­ing through some of my pho­tos when she asked, “Is that the girl you like? The one on the swing?”

“Yeah”, I said. Then, “Like? Liked?”, because I wasn’t sure.

“You still like her. If you’re ques­tion­ing it, that means you still do.”

Damn.

Date  August 23, 2009
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Categories  Random

Protected: Difficult Acceptance

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Date  July 10, 2009
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The Kissing Map

0

There were patches of skin on her body that would build, and turn white, and flake.

She was always self-conscious of those areas, to the point of tears, but I called them my kiss­ing map, as each patch would lead my lips to the next. In the dark, the spots revealed them­selves in their tex­ture, like del­i­cate wounds. How dif­fer­ent they tasted, how strange that skin felt against my own.

I would always kiss those spots, in hopes that my lips would con­vince her that she had noth­ing to be self-conscious about around me. To ease, and share their burden.

To acknowl­edge that she was flawed, as we all are on earth, but I still loved and accepted her, despite it all.

Date  July 2, 2009
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Protected: I Am A Beginning

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Date  May 26, 2009
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Protected: Helpless Comparison, Part 2

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Date  May 5, 2009
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Viewing entries tagged with "women"   //
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