Drama: the Persistent Weed in my Life

In high school, drama is a staple. It fuels the gossip. Back when I was in high school, it was disseminated through phone calls, MSN messenger, (the then relatively new) Facebook, and if you were rich enough, BBMing. It was thrilling and exciting to find out who had done what, and giggle over a tagged photo of someone doing something stupid. But that was me in high school, a mortifyingly socially awkward individual. Since then, I have eschewed all forms of drama.

Just ignore it, don’t get involved.

That was my motto once I entered moved overseas for university. I specifically didn’t hang out with certain groups of people to avoid it. And yet, like fucking weeds in the garden, they have sprung back to life.

Drama starts off as small shoots, and if you ignore the hydrating drizzle of overheard comments, snippets of interaction.. before you know it, those fuckers of weeds are back in your life, sucking the nutritious emotional energy out of your garden that is your life. … that might have been a protracted analogy.

tl;dr = drama is a drain on my life, and it’s back with a vengeance.

And just what areas of my life are experiencing severe drama overgrowth right now?

M has found a new love interest. When I went home for my sister’s wedding, M and I went to NYC for two days and a night. He told me it would be cheaper to share a bed. I said it didn’t matter to me, but asked if it would be a problem for him. M said no. That night, we got into bed. I accept my fault in permitting inappropriate cuddling, instead of doing the awkward and appropriate distance between us on the bed with the sheets fastidiously tucked in. Then we turned the lights off. I was small spoon and could feel his heart beating faster and harder. I could also feel the specific absence of pelvic-to-rear contact, and we know exactly what that means. It was 1am and we were to get up at 5:30-6am ish, and by that point I was simultaneously annoyed, tired and curious. So I sighed, reached down, grasped it and said, “Do you want me to take care of that?” I will confess that I cheated on P and went down on that redhead. I wouldn’t have minded going for a ride, but when M said, “That’s the first time I’ve ever been kissed,” that I drew back and hesitated.

The next morning, I knew I shouldn’t have done it. We came back home, and later that week, we talked about it. I didn’t tell M about P. I gave practical reasons like not wanting to limit either of us from future relationships while we were on opposite sides of the world. Then I pecked him on the lips when I left. Ohhh so smart. not.

I used to get incessant texts. Now? Now I get nothing. I didn’t think much of the textual silence, until I saw some instagram photos of a Philadelphia trip M went on with “a friend”, who happens to be share my ethnicity, which I know M prefers.

I’m not stupid. I think there’s some sort of mutual interest there because:

  • Normal “friends” don’t make faces at each other with their tongues out as if to lick each other.
  • One of M’s texts: “I have been really busy w [a friend].”
  • Delayed replies by 1-2 days vs. previously near-instantaneous replies
  • Brief Twitter research (read: stalking, OR using my resources)

I initiated a text exchange to try and hear about his Philadelphia trip. I’ve gotten nothing but roadblocks back.

It feels like an undercurrent of, “Hey, you didn’t return my affections, I’m going to play mind games and you can see just what you’re missing. Chase me.” Whatever.

No, not whatever. I do care. I like the attention. Even though it was annoying, it was nice to have that interest, even if I was emotionally unavailable. I don’t want some bitch getting claws into my former crush-er. I probably don’t deserve to have a say in that since M is his own individual, and what I did is morally reprehensible. But I still feel that way.

Oh well, time for bed, I have my first proper race next weekend. Must rest up and train tomorrow morning.

Also, my actual garden is overrun with weeds. I should do some weeding this weekend.

Advertisements

Without a Leg to Stand On

When a relationship is new… actually, back up. When you first start seeing someone, before it’s labelled anything at all, you’re on best behaviour. You do your best to look good. I mean things like paying extra to get your hair trimmed/styled so it’s decent even though you’re not due for another 2 weeks, you use the exfoliating scrub, and you make sure it’s clean not just under the nails but your bellybutton too. But once this whatever-it-is becomes something, you get more confident and you start to relax. This might evidence itself in a few different ways.

  1. Physical appearance. You might notice your hair is a bit flat or that you don’t have on the scent you know they like. You aren’t going to rush home and fix it because this isn’t a big deal. This state of “not giving a crap” isn’t a bad thing. It’s hardly pragmatic to try and always look perfect. Frankly, it’d be exhausting.
  2. Actions. You might deny that your body has the capability of producing farts. Well, pull out the beans and pull up the sheets for a dutch-oven because you’re going to let one rip eventually. I’m joking. Because those are gross. Mind you, it took me just under 1.5 years before I felt comfortable doing a #2 at P’s house. I did it while P took a shower, flushed 3 times, sprayed air freshener, flushed again, and then ran back to the couch.
  3. What you say. Again, this can be a good thing. No one wants someone who agrees with them on everything. Jeez that would be a boring conversation. But once you’re comfortable enough to call someone on their crap, that’s tricky.

After P&I went for dinner with my work mates, we were chatting before we got into our cars. P said, “I don’t know how much [LS] is doing, if any. I’m not seeing much get done.” I didn’t say anything. I seethed and kept it inside. Ok, it’s true, I haven’t been nearly as focussed or productive as I need to be. But you know what, I’d prefer that you didn’t make me look bad in front of my work friends. I went back into P’s to pick something up and made to leave. P had originally said probably no sleepover that night, which is fair enough. I honestly didn’t mind. But then he asked,

P: Aren’t you staying?

me: No.

P: Well, would you like to stay?

me: No, that’s ok.

P: You can stay if you want, I don’t mind.

me: No thanks. I’m fine.

And I drove off. I talked to my erstwhile supervisor N, who I became friends with even before we stopped working together, who had also been there at the dinner. N rightly pointed out, regardless of whether it was true or not, that P would be unlikely to see me study. Why would you go over to your partner’s house to study? It’s to see them. So I got over myself.

But then, last night, I went to go see Star Trek Into Darkness with P and two of P’s good friends. It was really good and I enjoyed it. Don’t worry, no spoilers. Anyway, when we were picking up tickets and then again in the car ride home, P said something similar to his friends. Again, I didn’t say anything. But what the hell. I’m right here! At mine, P came in to pick up a cake tin I’d borrowed.

P: Will I see you tomorrow?

me: Uh… no? I have study group in the morning remember? And I have to study.

P: Oh. Well, ok, I’ll see you during the week, alright?

I don’t know. What do I have to say or do to give the impression that I do study? I’ve gone upstairs and studied while P watched TV. In fact, last time, P was having a look on dating websites. I didn’t say anything, but P said, “I just like to have a look.” I’ve known P’s had wandering eyes, but so long as it doesn’t go anywhere… This sounds really bad. Other times, P says such lovely and unexpected things. Yesterday morning when we were in the bathroom about to step into the shower, I felt P’s arms wrap around me and heard a murmur of, “To me, you’re perfect.”

I’m confused. Right now, my emotions are wild and I don’t dare follow those thought processes too far. I wish I could be like Spock and better control my emotions; really, that’s just emotional intelligence. It’s not suppression, but acknowledging feelings I have while not being ruled by them.

Can I not have the sniping comments and jabs? I want to say something, to stand up and assert myself. But P’s right. That’s why I’ve kept silent this entire time. In my mind, if I get back on track with my notes and study schedule, then I can say something. Otherwise I don’t have a leg to stand on.

Or am I wrong?

Where’s the Line?

I think western society (very generally speaking) pushes a lot of boundaries. Sometimes that’s a good thing, like when it’s to challenge certain inequalities. Sometimes, certain boundaries are better left in place. Normally, I have a healthy respect for existing boundaries, particularly personal ones.

5 or 6 years ago, I had my boundaries pushed quite far. K was the second person I’d ever fooled around with, and certainly possessed a sharp tongue. K would say some truly appalling things, smirk at me and give me an appraising look to see if I’d rise to the bait. And I mean along the lines of, “those stupid fags” and regularly mocking the Asian accent. Interestingly, K never wanted to try full penetrative sex. Rather vehemently, K said, “I’ve been fucked over and I don’t want to do that to anyone else.” Oook…

If you asked me then if I’d ever push someone’s boundaries for the sake of it, I’d immediately answer with a horrified, “No!” But here we are.

Today in lab, we were doing a few different activities. M, who has given a flirty vibe since Day 1, immediately sat next to me and said, “Partners?” (Note: this is a different M to the one who sends unwelcome texts. This M is Australian, not North American.) The activities included testing the ability to discriminate distinct touch, temperatures, taste and proprioception. All very touchy-feely. I thought to myself, “Stuff it.” and went for it. I made sure M kept the blindfold on for the entire 2 hours. I subtly stroked M’s wrist with one hand while using the compass. I intermittently brushed my inner forearm against M’s leg when testing styluses against the skin with different temperatures. I grazed M’s cheek and jaw with my left hand when I held it still and put the different solutions on the tongue. I blatantly flirted by pouring a solution of quinine all over M’s tongue, ducking out of the way, laughing teasingly and rubbing M’s back.

Do I feel guilty? Not really. It was a low-budget lab.

But was that cheating? (vis-a-vis my last post)

Good question. Well… M is cute, there’s no denying that.

  1. What was my motivation for doing what I did? To see how far I could push the boundaries and see the results.
  2. Should I have done it? Probably not, but it was pretty fun. Particularly when I saw a certain someone else get a bit jealous and engage in a bit of physical flirting too. J does have a boyfriend, though he’s in Melbourne.
  3. Have I led M on to think that this could be something? I don’t think so, M knew what was going on and played along just the same.

Can bantering that ever so slightly verges on flirting (ok, not at all in this case) be considered crossing the line? In this case, M is happy to give mixed signals and knows the game. I’m never going to get involved beyond lighthearted fun. If both parties have full knowledge of the situation and there are virtually no consequences… is that so bad?

What do you think?

Confessions – P vs. G

Confession time.

Despite all the fun (of any description) I have with P, getting all the cuddles and affection I could want, and exchanging verbal affirmations of that love, sometimes I feel alone. or at least, unhappy, maybe dissatisfied.

I went for drinks last night. I drove 4 other uni mates from their college residence after much faffing about over where we were going and what time we were starting. Can I just say, big groups of say, more than 4-5 people meeting up for a drink can be such a hassle when no one is decisive? Anyway, one of the people who came was G. I spent a not insignificant amount of time noticing how good G smelled and thinking about running my fingers through G’s hair. G’s outfit was not attractive at all; it was rather the opposite. G is a frustration, a dilemma. I try and make conversation, and I get nothing. It’s maddening, when the other person doesn’t give anything back in return. What do I care if someone else is interested in G? I don’t even know why I’m so intrigued.

I should say, G is not the same gender as P. This is causing some inner consternation, though there would be more if this was the first time.

I kept going. I went into another bar despite wanting to go to bed, smiled, laughed, had another drink, and made conversation. Then I ran like hell for the parking garage when I realised it was 12:20 and remembered the gates shut at 12:30. I drove for 10 minutes, had a glass of water with a Panadeine Extra, brushed my teeth, and slipped into bed next to P.

Is it so wrong to wonder? It could be. Do you know why girls love The Notebook? Because it’s emotional porn. One of my female friends once told me that she’d flirted and gotten emotionally attached to some guy even though she had a boyfriend. Technically, she didn’t cheat on her then boyfriend. But did they stay together? No.

~

Maybe I’m just stressed out by exams with only 3 weeks of uni left and I’m projecting by creating tension where there isn’t any and focussing on that instead of the very real challenge ahead. Maybe … I shirk at thinking of the alternative if it isn’t. I wish I knew what the hell I was doing.

I’m going to be sensible, focus on study, starting running after my week break, and see how I feel once these damn exams are over. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, feelings are fickle and can change. A little caution never hurt.