Posts in category "Thoughts"

Virgin

Do you remember your first time?

It was her first time too. Her face contorted, a regretfully painful look, but quickly relaxed as her eyes rolled back. You were scared when she bled, but she begged not to stop. How strange it was to be so close to someone, so face-to-face. You thought you knew what intimacy was, until you were inside her and kissing her lips simultaneously. Shhhhh, they’re right underneath us. You never imagined it’d feel so hot.

Do you remember her first time? It was safe because her sister was busy enough with her own boyfriend. You went beneath her skirt, recalling how distracting such a simple piece of pleated, plaid material could be when walking behind her in the hall. She made no sound, and you began to doubt whether she was comfortable anymore.

Do you remember her first time? It was at the end of summer, when the days were getting shorter. You had the windows open, and wafting through the room was the smell of healthy trees and sunset air. Even though the breeze was cool and dry, she was hot and sweating against you on her brother’s bed. You were listening for the swing and slam of the back screen-door, but all you were thinking about was how good it felt to finally touch her bare, sticky skin. There was no nervousness anymore. She trusted you with devotion, as you guided her through her blossoming sexuality.

Do you remember her first time? It was your first time too. You had always wanted to save this for marriage, but you were both caught in the moment, and her dirty mouth wouldn’t stop prodding you. She once told you how she had always imagined being tied up, someone taking this from her by force. It was too late now, and she wanted this as much as you did. Her screams were almost rudely loud in your ear, but there was indication of pain in her voice. Afterward, she had take a moment to collect herself before she could speak, making a remark about how comforting it was to still feel you inside her.

They say that we always remember our first time.

But do they remember you?

The Second Introduction, Part 1

There’s a group of people I once knew well, past the barriers of formality and beyond any boundaries of unacceptance. Unfortunately, circumstances didn’t go our way, and I had to leave. It may have been considered a self-imposed exile, but exile sounds so severe. Leaving was the only thing that I could think of. I’ll be honest and say that I don’t know from what I was running.

I just know that I was running. I just know that I needed to get away, to distance myself from some of the only people who have ever treated me with respect. From some of the only people who have ever treated me like family. With no explanation, I left, and they have every right to never speak to me again.

Now, years later, I find myself missing what I had. How selfish.

Perhaps it was the commitment. Perhaps it was my intolerance. Perhaps I was trying to protect others from getting too attached. Most likely, it was a combination of everything. I won’t say that I made a mistake, because I make my decisions based on limited knowledge and current, undeveloped wisdom. I will, however, apologize and admit that I’m sorry. Sorry for ever causing any sort of pain, to the last people in the world who ever deserve it.

This is me at my most humble.

Case In Point

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Exp

Today, I got to pick the restaurant. I chose one that’s always bustling on the weekends, even when there isn’t a wedding reception being hosted, named after the Yangtze River in China. There was a mixture of language in the air, due to the fact that I was surrounded by large Chinese families, catching up on each others lives, and young Caucasian couples, on their Friday night dates. The families were all familiar. I could relate to every young boy in them, trying to finish his deep fried crab claw balls while concentrating on the game in his GameBoy. The couples…

I thought about the time we walked around those long, sterile aisles that only you could take me to. There were small plants of basil next to a miscellaneous food item sample stand, and it was my first time smelling the aroma of a live stalk. What a drastic difference it was from the basil I bought in a container, or labelled as “FRESH” when they were ripped from the roots before transportation.

“For some reason, I feel like steak”.

Someone from another couple overheard and couldn’t help laughing.

“I know exactly what you mean”, the man jovially said.

We looked for a steakhouse afterward. On the highway, I asked for a suggestion. Your knowledge of the local restaurants was always wider than mine. I gave reasons against your first two proposals, and you refused to continue, frustrated. I thought about the time we tried to find a game we could both get into, and you rejected the first eight. How difficult it was to not kick that Gamecube into the wall, and yet I didn’t say a word, something I could only control because of how much I still cared at that point. I put my foot down to make a decision (much better than the alternative), and we set off for a teppanyaki steakhouse.

It was a place that I saved for celebrations. We were seated alone at a table usually reserved for eight, along with a lone performer, twirling his knife and flipping his flipper. A celebration of us we agreed.

And I decided that those couples around me weren’t so unfamiliar either.

Stepping Through The Shadow, Part 2/2: The Friend Aspect

I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.

—Tool, Forty Six & 2

Unfortunately, I’m not myself when I’m around my friends.

With them, I’m happier, more confident, extroverted. It’s usually only with them that I can test the boundaries of social conduct, because I know that they understand me, accept me, and are willing to back me all the way. Sometimes, I end up saying some pretty embarrassing things off-the-cuff, things made more embarrassing by the fact that even my friends aren’t laughing. But to find the boundary, one has to cross it at some point. And it’s such a fucking power trip to know that I’m testing myself as well, testing how far I’m willing to go, something that I can only do with the right people.

Without my friends, I recede into my shell. I require them at parties, events, social functions just so I can interact with people normally. When I do find myself in absence of their presence, I force myself to be social. I consider how I would behave if I was with them, and proceed with caution. It’s slowly getting easier for me when I’m by myself. Perhaps I’m gaining my own self-confidence when I’m not around them.

Something I that can only gain when I’m with them.

The Stepping Through The Shadow Series

Part 1
Part 2