23 March 1999 ~ Helena the Socialist...

Okay, here's a scenario: I'm walking from work back to my dorm room. I see someone I know. It's a pretty small school, so I always see someone I know. She's a creative writing major, and I've seen her here and there at readings and such. She's kind of quiet with an ugly monotone voice. She's also ultra-friendly. She tries to start a conversation EVERY time she sees someone she knows, even if she has nothing to talk about. "So, how has your day been?" she'll ask. "What classes did you have this morning?" Perhaps she's genuinely interested: she always SEEMS genuinely interested, but how can anyone care that much about what classes someone else had that morning? She's one of those people who probably won't have their first kiss until they're 35 and will have some gahd-awful boring job at a library or a tax-accountant's office her entire life.

So I avoid her. I look down, pretending to organize some papers. I shuffle through my books. I pretend to tie my shoe. ANYTHING to avoid having to say hi to her. It doesn't work. She sees me. "Hi, Helena," she says. "Hi," I reply. And that's just enough to ruin the next five minutes of my life. I didn't WANT to say hi to her. I didn't want her to acknowledge me. There's been no damage done, of course; she didn't pry about my life, she didn't invite me to dinner, she didn't say anything but "hi," but I still hate her for it. How dare she force me to be social when I want to be introverted and ignore the rest of the human race?

Sometimes I just feel like avoiding everyone. Even my friends. I want to hole up in my room and put a "do not disturb" sign on the door. Sometimes I want to put a "do not disturb" sign on my life. On those days, I plan everything out so that I don't run into anyone who will say ANYTHING to me. An extended "will that be all?" from the cafeteria lady annoys me. A "come on over later" from Claire annoys the fuck out of me. A smile from someone I know from work kills me, especially since I'm forced to return it.

Other times, I'm everybody's closest friend. You can't shut me up, I'm the goddess of cool jokes. I'm the center of attention, or I'm busy trying to be the center of attention.

Last night was great. I was feeling a little antisocial after Geology class, and was planning on going to my room, writing the end of my journal entry, and maybe reading a few chapters of my Barry Gifford novel before bed. But Claire announced she was skipping her nightly workout and Jane announced that she was going to Claire's room to drink. And they invited me...

Ken taught me a very valuable lesson about such invitations. Never refuse unless you might get raped or killed. So I went.

Jane's wine was all right. It was wine, which was the important thing. I was comfortably buzzed when Brian walked in. At first, I was horrified. Please gahd, don't let him see me like this... But then I realized he was a little buzzed himself. We sat on Claire's bed together, picking on Jane, who was completely wasted. By the time Claire broke out the tequila, the alcohol had really hit me and I was really obviously drunk. Of course, since the tequila smelled like nail polish remover, I refused any, saying "I've never had it, but I don't think I'd like it." Well, of course THAT made Claire jump down my throat with it. "Helena, HAVE some!" she teased.

Then Jane and Brian joined in, and the teasing turned into one of those situations that only happens in D.A.R.E.: the three of them were gathered around me saying, "drink it, drink it," and "come on, just do it, Helena!" Claire thrust the shot glass into my hand and Brian and Jane teased. Well, hell, I wasn't THAT against drinking it; I downed it and started giggling madly with the others. "It tasted like nail polish remover," I told them.

That's the last VERY clear memory I have of last night. I didn't black out or anything, but things are a little hazy... Shortly after the tequila shot, Jane left the room to be with her boyfriend and Brian and I started up a conversation together.

We talked about a hitch-hiker Brian had picked up who believed that Santa Fe is some source of weird electricity coming out of the ground or something. We talked about Jane's boyfriend. We talked about hippies and hippie names and Tibet. And it was so comfortable and relaxed! Usually, I'm a mess trying to talk to gorgeous boys, but it always becomes easier and easier with Brian. We have a LOT in common, actually, probably more than Claire and Jane realize. He's very intelligent and very articulate and amazingly good with insults and so on. We're both Geminis and we're both kind of free-spirited when it all comes down to it. Instead of feeling shy around him, he brings out a weird side of me, and I turn into the life of the party. There are certain people in the world who will never see me depressed and wall-flowerish: people like him, who ARE the happy, social side of me.

Well, it went slightly beyond conversation. There was some hardcore sexual tension going on. I seem to recall that, for most of the evening, Brian and I were touching in some way. At one point, I was teasing him about making good furniture and we were pretty much as close as we could be without actually lying on top of each other. I knew that if his girlfriend was in the room, she would NOT be happy.

But you know what? It felt REALLY good. It brought back a lot of old familiar feelings: those uncertain thrills of physical contact with an attractive male. In some sick way, I miss harboring secret feelings of lust. In some sick way, the thrill of the chase IS as good as the thrill of the capture. And the thrill of wondering and and having tingly little hope-doubts is just as good. In some way, Dawson's Creek was better when you never knew if Joey and Dawson were ever going to get together, or, if they did get together, how far it would go and how long it would last. Something always dies when the tension is gone; when you've felt the other person's kiss, when you're the proud owner of experience instead of the victim of curiosity.

I wanted him REAL bad. I touched his hair and it was softer than I'd imagined. His skin was warm and smooth. I remembered when Brian had driven Jane and I to Las Vegas, Nevada last October. I'd sat in the back, salivating as my eyes caressed the smooth curve of the dashboard light against his bare arm, which held the steering wheel with confidence. Oooooohhhh, he was so hot... Ooooohhhh, I just wanted to reach up there and make him pull the car over right then and there. Although I would have been satisfied to run one finger up that streak of green light... Last night, I got my chance...

My inhibitions were totally gone. Ordinarily, I'm not a very physical person. I've always felt I'm not worthy of being touched, that people will pull away from me, that I'm viewed as being dirty or unsanitary somehow. And having someone pull away would be the ultimate rejection: one I'm not willing to deal with. But I let myself touch Brian, and he didn't pull away. At one point, we were lying on Claire's bed leaning our heads together, and we both turned to look at each other... and only about four inches separated us from kissing and getting that painful IWANTYOU feeling over with. But that was going too far. I knew he had a girlfriend. And not only that, but I'd rather not jeopardize my friendship with Brian -- I'm not that far out of control, at least not yet.

Claire finally kicked us the hell out of her room so she could sleep. Brian and I went to my room where we talked some more and had a tickle-fest or something equally stimulating... The evening ended on a rather unpleasant note when Mike burst into my room sobbing and accusing me of not caring about him. "You're INTOXICATED," he accused, "And after all the things I do for you!"
"Um, I'll be in Liz's room," said Brian.
[FUCKFUCKFUCK!!!]
"Yes, Mike, I sure as hell am intoxicated. What's your excuse?"

Mike had some stupid crisis. I wanted to kill him for ruining my moment with Brian. I would have stayed up all night, just enjoying his company, if Mike hadn't appeared. The whole thing reminds me a lot of when Peter and I were kids. Very positive and very playful and with just enough sexual tension to make it thrilling instead of just interesting.

Claire informed me today that Brian broke up with his girlfriend last week. I think she saw the semi-evil grin light up my eyes. I had make her swear not to tell anyone about my now-enormous crush on Brian.

I want I want I want............

Love,
~Helena*

"Would you two just fuck and get it over with?" --Janeane Garofalo's character in "Reality Bites"

"I'm not a very sexual person, so when I say I'm thinking with my dick, that DOES mean I'm in love, man..." --Mike's best friend from grade school (and I'd just like to remind everyone that this quote in no way reflects the true views of Helena...)