last night we formally saw one another for the first time. though you're from pennsylvania you have a house in brooklyn, nearly the city. you walked to union square to see me. you asked if i should like to meet you at a coffee place in the park; i was too weary and too stupid. i gave you my address instead, told you just to come in. what if you had been a stalker or psychopath or axe murderer or werewolf? but i was too weary to think of this. i should stop making decisions when i am weary. brent had kept me out all day and i was tired of walking, though we drove for a good amount of time. i can not do much walking. i needed a break.
you did not give me a break, not really, although you came to my dorm
and we sat on my bed the entire time. you opened by saying that you had
deleted me on facebook - when you called me the other night i asked if
you should like to be facebook friends with me, my speech suggested that
you had the option not to be. but you did. and then you deleted me,
because usually when you're dating someone you don't add them for three
to six months? and i laughed because i didn't think we were dating,
especially not that this was our first time meeting one another.
i laughed later when you told me that you didn't take dating very
seriously. clearly you do if you had deleted me from facebook, i was not
aware we were dating. this is what everyone expects from me, though,
isn't it? is that my fault or yours?
perhaps the circumstances under which we met were conducive to dating. however, i
do not think a man coming over to my quaint ridiculous freshman dorm
and telling me he wants to talk over wine counts as a date. how can we be dating if we had not gone on an actual date yet? you said if
i wanted to go on an actual date, perhaps to dinner, some time, you
cannot read me you do not know what i'm thinking, you don't know what i
expect you to say, then we could do that. you live in pennsylvania but
you're in brooklyn half the week because you have an apartment there.
you do not live in the city because you have good work in pennsylvania
and it is much less expensive to live there and you have a car so why
would you live here? why do i live here.
another friend i thought i had texted me when you were over, laying on
my bed. you had complained that i was using my phone on our date, which i
did not know was a date. i saw from underneath my blanket he had
pleaded to me to see that he was raised well, is a gentleman. i didn't
know why i should care of this, we are just friends, i told him that i
was sure we could be very good friends. he agreed. what does 'friends'
mean to others? sometimes it means something different to me, but i let
that naturally take its course.
we talked for a long time, i became somewhat aware that my voice was the
high, soft feminine voice it is when i am not pretending to be removed
from my surroundings. i was removed from my surroundings and then you
said it was a date and i became more aware of my voice. but because it
was not a date i did not change my voice. i was wearing uggs, you told
me you thought they were hot. you asked me to close my eyes so you could
look at my eyelashes, obviously they were fake, you liked them. you
thought they were cool. what is it you like?
you told me i was hot too many times to count. perhaps that's why you're
27 and don't know what to do about meeting someone that doesn't include
sending them a drink in a restaurant or a bar. i do not think of hot as
a compliment, because hot does not come from the mouth of the type of
man i'd like to be complimented by. i am not good at receiving
compliments, i told you, and anyway hot is not a proper compliment, i
didn't say. i did tell you that i speak out against compliments that
offend me. i was not offended, i was amused. it was not a date.
we talked the whole night, i told you i was not good at small talk and i
wouldn't fill the silences if i didn't know how or see a reason to. you
said all we were doing was small talk, i disagreed. what is small in
talking about ourselves? i described how hard it is for me to sit and
talk about my majors and the classes i'm taking, because no one really
cares, i'm not saying anything. you suggested that maybe this is why
girls are afraid of me. i had not thought of that. i long to be friends
with them, i haven't seen them in weeks.
my pink pillow has the face of a sleeping cat and you held it as you laid on my bed. "do you like cuddling?" you moved your head towards my arm at this, i was sitting up, you laying down. "eh," i started, because i did not want to cuddle with you. "i like it, it's nice, comfortable. but people often make it mean more than it does." this was a hint; you missed it
it was not a date, but you don't know how to read me. you enjoyed
yourself you kissed my cheek you should like to see me again soon.
perhaps we are dating now, but it means nothing at this point. you're a
nice man. if you'd like to see me i should like to spend time with you.
you have a lot you can introduce me to, i do not care if you do drugs
because you're 27, who cares, do what you want, we are not getting
married. to me we are friends, to you we are dating and therefore cannot
be friends, to me that is every relationship i've ever had, to you that
is the only way.
this means that i am going to break your heart or disappoint you. i'm sorry, but you designated it this way.
"go to bed," the ghost said, you told me. "your dad is coming." and you thought this
meant the ghost was psychic, could see the future, but i think she was just seeing you. are ghosts
truly psychic? i think it proves that she was there just as much as you
were, actually more than you were, the ghost was there. i told you i did
not think the ghost was psychic. you'd never seen it that way.
i miss my own ghosts. some have frightened me, i admit, though i think
that they should be friendly. reasonable. they are ghosts because they
are looking for reasons, anyway. but none of them have been anything but
benevolent to me. i am better now because of them. i miss my ghosts, it
appears that i am always searching for more. ghosts of men i dated,
ghosts of men who meant nothing to me but taught me about themselves. i
like to know people, i like for their ghosts to follow me. i am not
afraid of ghosts and they are just as real, even more real, than you and