11 April 2000 ~ Christrionic...

I have a wee crushy.

Ohhh, where to start!?

The party. It was a couple of weeks ago. I walked out of the bathroom and into the arms of a sorta-casual friend, nice guy, nice hair, sorta wacky, totally adorable... He held me at arm's-length for a moment, told me I looked great (I'd just gotten my hair cut), and kissed me -- quite intensely, as a matter of fact.

*shudder*

I find myself smiling at the mention of his name. I find myself drifting toward him in crowded rooms. I like him. Saying his name is like eating a spoonful of blueberries in cream in the middle of a sunny July day. I like him a lot.

Chris is what you might call, uh... histrionic. He's sort of a drama queen. Okay, okay, so he's very much a drama queen. He's also oversensitive, melodramatic, over-defensive, and sort of bitchy. None of these qualities make him particularly endearing to the general public... But I guess I see a few other qualities in him... I see him as a delicate little blue moth trying to look intimidating by flapping wings that are painted with big owl eyes. So when he throws one of his tantrums and everybody else just wants to strangle him, I'm the only one in the room who smiles calmly at him. My patience isn't usually one of my strong points, but I find it hard to become frustrated with him.

I saw him the other night in Denny's. A little chance meeting, I guess.

...And he kissed me...

Ang gahd-damn, I haven't been kissed like that in years... I haven't felt any particular magic spark like that in I don't know how long. It was the kind of shuddery bliss you get from one of those people who, when they smile at you, your heart skips beats, and when they kiss you, you feel little veins of fire running all through your body. And all from one stupid no-tongue kiss across a table at Denny's. And see... the things is... he felt it too. I'm almost certain of it.

It was the first time in literally years that I've been kissed in full light and in public. And without shame. I'd forgotten how good that feels.

...He kissed me; he gave me his bracelet to wear, the blue-and-tan power-beads he never takes off; he gave me some unsolicited romantic advice along the lines of, "Peter is not the one for you; all he's given you is hurt and pain, and it isn't your fault he's a closeted bisexual; you deserve better. I know you'd never say that out loud that he hurts you, but just know that he isn't the one." It was kind of strange, hearing that from someone with whom I've never discussed Peter, outside of, "where's Peter/I dunno" conversations. I didn't think Chris had any clue about Peter and I, especially not to the point where he'd be sure enough of himself to say something like that. But whatever. I had to stop myself before I read too far into it: No, Peter isn't the one... Are you asking for a shot of your own?

I'm caught up in the delerious joy of stupid, pointless, neurotic flirtation. I emailed him, telling him I was holding his bracelet for ransom until I got a Chrishug. He emailed me back, saying he couldn't wait. Oh, it wasn't any big personal love letter, just... just kinda flirty. And I know he's a flirt; I know that quite possibly he has no idea he's sort of leading me on. I know that there's a good possibility that if I walked up to him and asked him out for coffee or something, he'd be startled; maybe all he wants with me is somebody to play with, somebody to smile with; somebody to tease and be teased by.

...And right now, anything can happen. I'm walking on treasure chests of potential energy.

Chris is bisexual. I swore I'd not get involved -- or want to get involved -- with a non-straight person again. But I guess I'll just wait and see what happens; obviously there's a good chance nothing at all will happen.

There's a dance at the college on Saturday. I know he'll be there -- he's on the committee for it or something. (The committee, actually, so far as I've been able to gather, consists of Chris and Peter, gahd save us all... Seriously, they really can't stand each other...) I'll be there too. Maybe he'll save a slow dance for me. We shall see waht happens.

Love,
~Helena*