like nailing jello to a wall
So here's the official number: I've been drunk fourteen nights in a row, with last night being the grande finale. Somehow I cannot eat with so much drinkin goin on.
After dinner we went a couple other places with a few other friends, and at around midnight I sent Joe a message "R U down?" just to see if he was expecting Rich to be out. When he called, though, and said he was at the Vid, Amelia lept at the opportunity to be there to see Steve.
Steve? Yeah... long story about a guy who liked flirting with both of us (he's a linguist) until Wednesday when he went home with Amelia. She really liked it, and needed to know how he felt.
So we pile on at the Vid. Steve is there, Joe and Winter are there, and then I'm there with two girls: one girl who's my friend who is a little bit boy-crazy, and a second girl who's Amelia's friend and who's taken so she feels at liberty to behave how she wants.
Anyway, I'm trying not to talk too much to any one person because I still don't know how Joe might feel while hanging out in public with a large group. Whatever.
Then I notice: Amelia whispering to Winter, taken-chick whispering to Steve, and so I turn to these two punk-rock "townies" and say, "The chick's I came with are being total chicks; mind if I lean in on your conversation?"
Then I realized that Joe was tuned in to me after all as his eyes followed me each time I shook their hands or made them smile.
It's amazing I recall anything through the veil of bourbon I was under, especially including my malnourished stomach. It's amazing I shot anything in pool. Or danced to a beat. Or didn't piss off the punkers (Joey Ramone tattoo and eye makeup: this brat had it all).
I did throw shitty darts, though.
But around last call the whole place turned into a house of mirrors. Like at a carnival, and everywhere I turned was more distortions than I could imagine... and no clear exit. The noise was deafening suddenly, and the orgy of conversations was much to distributed for my liking.
Somehow Amelia and I ended up at Joe and Winter's until the not-so-wee-anymore hours. As we drove there Amelia kept apologizing to me for being so flirty, but assuring me that girls come first and she'll steer wherever I need her to. But Joe was more of a raw-nerve than I expected, or ever dreamed. After so much from him being tender about not hurting my feelings, I've realized that his heart is heavy, too. So Amelia could flirt her little brains out, because my attention is decidedly set on Joe until we both feel better.
You see, this is why one should not date someone who they know they cannot marry: because you end up caring for the wonderful person so deeply, and never having disagreements, but just bitter-sweetly letting each other go.
Winter and Amelia left the room last night and Joe asked, "what do you think about that?"
I told him I miss the no-drama "This is my bourbon. This is my Joe" life of last October.
Then he told me he would never stand in the way of anyone I wanted to date, because, "who is he to have an opinion..." It nearly broke my heart how acquiesent he was, and almost reluctantly so.
I just kissed his cheek and tried to assure him that he is significant to me, and I'll be damned if I hurt his feelings.
But things aren't so simple, for some reason.
And so I withdraw.
School starts tomorrow and I have a class with Joe. It's only a matter of time, and our friendship will strengthen to eventually involve no sexual tension, but right now my muscles ache from all the tension. He photographed my ass last night, but not only that: he posed me first.
But sexual tension isn't enough.
I'm really confused, and I'm sorry this entry is completely incomplete and confusing, but as I work through the events, and then my thoughts, and then my feelings, I should be able to nail something down.
I usually do.
