I spent all day on Wednesday in my room, on my computer, trying to bang out as many words as I could so that for Thanksgiving, I wouldn't have to worry about it. I'm up to 46,000 words on my NaNoWriMo novel, and while I know the end product is going to be deeply flawed and rambly and heady, I'll at least have something I can show for all of that time I've spent pushing myself this month. I spent so much time writing this week, I think I forgot for a little while how to talk to humans. I was even having trouble, when I went out on Wednesday night, with talking to Najwa, who is one of the easiest people to talk to. Any subject that she brought up, I kept finding a way to bring up my stupid novel, which, of course, she tolerated, because she is a very good friend. It wasn't even just talking that I was having trouble with. I tried to get out and dance to some of the awesome music Gabriel was spinning, but I could not find my rhythmn, and I felt self-conscious. I wandered back to my chair, acting like I forgot something, leaving a slightly confused Najwa dancing by herself. She didn't mention anything about it, but I could tell she thought I was acting weird, which I definitely was. I finally relaxed after a beer or two, and was actually able to have a conversation about Five Guys burgers or something, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Travis, the first guy I ever had sex with. I didn't exactly have a bad experience with this person, apart from what happened at the very end of it, but it was coincidental that I saw him. I had just been mining that period of my life for material, and thinking about him a lot while I was working on it, and at the end of my marathon writing session I had come to the conclusion that I was actually grateful for everything that happened during that time. I'm grateful for all of my experiences, even the not-so-nice ones, because I've learned something from every one of them. They haven't all been easy lessons, but the most informative ones rarely are.
I reacted to seeing him by abandoning my seat and heading for the area directly in front of Gabriel's turntables, Najwa trailing behind me in confusion, and undertaking an exercise I like to call "avoidance dancing". It's something I do when I know I might be about to have an uncomfortable interaction with someone. I dance really hard, so the person I am trying to evade can't get near me. It wasn't all that necessary, as I don't think he really wanted to talk to me, but I am a total pussy, so I wasn't going to risk it. I knew I would be way too friendly, or accidentally flirtatious, or that I would just turn red and not really be able to say much. Turning red and not saying much would be fitting, as that pretty much describes the brief history I have with this person.
I made the executive decision to not even attempt to say anything to this dude, to just leave him alone because I bothered him so much when I was twenty-two and out of my mind. Something about the dynamic that was set up during that time makes me feel like I don't have the right to speak first, that I have to wait for him to come to me. On top of that, I couldn't help thinking about the last time I had seen him, which was at a Halloween party two years ago. I had avoided saying hello to him at that time because I was embarrassed about how fat I was. I also hadn't planned the Hit Girl costume I was wearing very well (Gino was Kick-Ass, naturally), so I looked like a bloated purple grape in a pleated skirt and a wig. I was dancing with a few people, and I saw him, in my peripheral vision, do a double-take in my direction. All I could imagine he thought when he saw me was, "Ew, I had sex with that fat girl."
I do not look as bad now as I did then, and on Wednesday I wasn't wearing a costume, but I felt just as unattractive and insecure as I do just about every time I see this guy. I'm still uneasy about that whole time in my life, when I was twenty-two but totally unprepared for a casual fling with a guy I barely knew. I was so uncertain about what I even wanted out of life, and he got roped into that whole sphere of my uncertainty. I'm still not sure about anything that happened then, down to whether or not we really even liked each other. We had no dealings with each other apart from having sex, and I don't feel like I got to know much about him at all. It was what it was, and it's in the past, and the past should stay in the past. I haven't spoken to this person in years, and seeing him again just felt a little weird. Seeing someone who has such a significant role in your history, but you don't even really know as a person, is disconcerting.
The weirdness got even more so the following morning, when I checked my phone and saw that he had added me as a Facebook friend. It was early, and I was a little unsure about it, so I ignored it, figuring that I would just check later. When I looked at Facebook later on in the day, though, the friend request had disappeared. He probably added me accidentally and then rescinded it, but it still felt a little bizarre seeing his name come up on my phone, especially since I didn't have any direct interaction with him and wasn't even sure about whether or not he recognized me. I am able to navigate the murky territory of dealing with my ex, and even dealing with Mike, so much more easily, because there is actual history there. Gino and can't just pretend I don't exist, nor can I pretend he doesn't exist. Mike is a little trickier, because though we didn't spend a lot of time sleeping with each other, we spent a lot of time becoming friends. My dealings with Travis were superficial and only worth mentioning, really, because he was my first. If he wasn't, I can't say I wouldn't attach any importance to him, but seeing him would not be such a big deal. I could go up to him and ask how he's been and not feel embarrassed or like I'm weirding him out.
I keep thinking I might never reach that point of being able to talk to someone I've slept with and not think about the fact that we used to kick it. I'm not sure I even want to lose that, actually, if I want to be like so many people and not attach any importance to sex. I had a conversation with Liam a few months ago, where he brought up the fact that people either take sex too seriously or not seriously at all. I agreed with him. "It should be a happy medium," I said, "It shouldn't be like shaking hands, but just because you get all up in someone, it doesn't mean you have to marry them or anything."
I know that I was trying not to take things too seriously with Mike, that everything I got, I asked for. I also know that though I wasn't expecting him to commit to something right away, I did have some expectations. My expectations weren't much, but they were more than he could give, and I had no right to expect anything. The mistakes I made with Travis are a little easier to understand, given how young I was at the time. As a woman in my late twenties, I have no excuses now. It's a tricky game, and I still don't know how to play it.
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