Thursday, March 20, 2014

Confessions of a Puppy

There are certain things that I take pride in, and one of those things was always the fact that no one could control me, and that in the relationship I was always the one with the leash (theoretically in some aspects, literally in others). You see, without meaning to, I seem to be a man-eater. Within a week I can have any man crawling on his knees and wrapped around my finger. Even after a relationship has ended, I have them still practically waiting on me. Even when I had a crush on someone, they would end up falling head over heels anyway, with little to no effort on my part. I know that it sounds amazing, but it got utterly boring. I am someone who likes the occasional argument, fight, and debate, so when the person I'm in a relationship with is a pile of Playdoh, willing to do anything I ask without question, my interests quickly go elsewhere. I often went from guy to guy, leaving one after 2 months maximum, capturing a new guy to suit my fancy.

This went on until the beginning of my sophomore year, when Mariah came around, and I was knocked flat on my face. I found myself in a position I never had before; not only was this the first time I had ever had feeling like this for a girl, but I was hardcore crushing on someone that I believed 1) Wouldn't ever possibly like me back 2)Was out of my league 3)That I wasn't even supposed to like (Me and my best friend shared her as a mutual close friend, making her practically out-of-bounds). So I pondered in self pity and adoration for a while, coupled with pea-green envy at one point (at one point she had a big crush on someone else and I was the one she most often talked about her crush to. Cruel, I know.) When I finally decided that if I couldn't have her, then I was at least going to give it my damnedest try, and that I was going to work at this for a while. She had worked her way into the very back of my brain, where she seemed to always lurk...always in my thoughts. I felt a constant need to see her, talk to her, somehow be in her presence or somehow with her. Essentially, I worked for 2 months, slowly working little things into the friendship that would work in my favor, and since she was one of my new best friends, this was made quite easy. In fact she practically handed me the opportunities. When she broke up with her boyfriend and entrusted us to get rid of her stuffed animal, she said she wanted one of mine to sleep with in place of the old one. After I recovered from the mini heart attack that caused, I readily agreed. What she doesn't know is that I had planned to suggest that she take one of mine in place of the old one that very evening, since I had plenty to spare. Time went by, she cried in my arms a few times (much to my inner glee, seeing as it meant that she was comfortable around me) and I learned everything about her, learning about her little quirks and her views on many things (including sexuality) until I decided that I was close enough to her to give this one final push. It was a Saturday, and so my roommate was gone. Mariah and I often hung out during the weekend to keep one another company. We were eating breakfast that morning, when I put on my best embarrassed face, and admitted sheepishly to her that I had had a sex dream about her the night before. That was all that was needed, and I let that stew in her all day. That night we were talking, and we started joking about what it would be like if we pretended to date for a while, and how well we could pull it off. As the evening progressed we wrestled a few times, and looking back, you could probably have taken the sexual tension and cut it with a butcher knife. Then I suggested that we practice for it Kati walked in the door. It was at that moment that it stopped becoming a game to her as I felt her breathing increase and her "fake" heavy breathing morph slightly into something much less fabricated. We looked at each other, and it was like the dam broke. After that amazing night we have been dating for 4 months. But this is unlike anything I have ever experienced; this is not a relationship, this is an obsession. From the very beginning she had me at her beck and call, and suddenly this was nothing I had any control over. She might adore me, but I don't think she understands just how hard I have fallen into a pit I never want to climb out of. It's utterly distracting; if she was in the back if my mind before, she is in the front of it now, always there. When I'm with her, it's like my world rights itself. It's the huge joke among my friends know that I'm a puppy, a pet dog, her pet dog. As much as I roll my eyes and shove them when they bring it up and act all offended, the truth is that they have hit the nail on the fucking head. Its really kind of pathetic if I take a step back and let myself look at the situation, but then I look at her grinning or I look at her snuggling into my arms, and I either couldn't care less or wouldn't want it any other way.

By Autumn

No comments:

Post a Comment