whenever i privately fantasize about pseudo-romantic rendezvouses [haha the plural for rendezvous makes me laugh], i fancy myself the pursuer; but in real-life situations, whenever i decide to take a plunge into the murky depths of Romance and Lesbian Night-Clubs, i'm the wall-flower, praying to Jeebus that someone will pick up on the fact that i'm too terrified to make the first move.
Big Spoon dreams with Little Spoon attitude.
actually, not even Little Spoon attitude.
just Inexcusable Idiocy.
i have that special curse, sometimes gift, where months - years, even - after the fact, i can remember the smallest details of situations gone wrong.
maybe it's because i'm constantly blaming myself for my inability to "connect," and i feel the need to dissect events that haunt me with hopes of improving myself, guarding myself against future failures.
or maybe it's just because i'm well aware of the fact that God seems to have purposely and purposefully armed me with a talent for carrying out almost cinematically ridiculous acts for the entertainment of others, and i'd feel guilty if my hilarious pain wasn't offered up for someone else's joy.
anywho.
after reading a number of drunken journal entries (that are far too embarrassing to put up here, even for me), as well as bitterly looking back through a slightly more socially aware microscope, i've decided to address certain happenstances and apologize to those who have fallen victim to my debilitating social-ineptness.
and to help those of you who find yourselves in similar circumstances.
1. one night, i was in bed with someone i was actually beginning to like.
like, like-like.
meaning that i didn't know what the fuck to do about it. granted, we were, as i said, already in bed together, and, as such, you'd think that any awkward tension was obliterated; however, being that i was just waking up from a drunken stupor and was therefore once again aware of my own inhibitions, we were back at square one.
so when she started to shiver, while on her side, facing away from me, my first thought wasn't, Oh! She wants to cuddle! Thank God! as it should've been, because lord knows i would've jumped at the chance.
instead, i felt guilty that she was so cold even though she was already under the covers.
so as quietly as i could, i went and found another blanket and covered her with it.
genuinely thinking that this was the most thoughtful and correct course of action.
...yeah.
2. not too long after #1, in the same evening, that is [yes, i know, poor whoeversheis], i went to the bathroom, convinced she was still asleep. when i returned, she was almost entirely on my side of the bed.
i figured she just moved in her sleep, so i did my best to un-awkwardly maneuver myself so that i was at least partially on the mattress, still worried i might disturb her.
but she wasn't even completely asleep, and when she stirred a bit i hesitated before asking, as politely as possible, "Um...would you mind, like...moving over a little bit?"
and i discovered just a second later that there was no polite way to ask that.
and i realized several months later that it might have been another one of those signs.
3. the next morning ["Holy shit, Vickie, seriously?!"], when we were in front of her building, there was a brief, tense moment of silence. suddenly, she lunged at me with a kiss. i was so taken aback i only managed to summon enough consciousness to nervously laugh and say, "Okay. See you later!"
walking away, i was already slowly dying inside.
4. moving on to another unlucky lady:
out of the blue, she asked me out.
surprised and sincerely interested - being that this was the first time anyone had been forward enough to do so - i consented.
the date went well. very well.
but when i realized that i might actually really like her, in true Vickie form i retreated to my inner fortress and shut down.
so, at the end of the night, when i was dropping her off and she asked, so directly, if i wanted to kiss her, i was overcome with two thoughts: the first, Oh my God. She already knows me well enough to be this direct. I feel so exposed.; and the second, Uhhhhhhh...
unfortunately, the second thought found its way out, filled the air with unnecessary tension, and i convinced myself that i fucked things up and there was no way in hell she was still into me.
so no, we didn't kiss.
and yes, i do use, "Uhhh..." as a legitimate form of communication.
5. "I like you, Vickie."
"Aww. I like you, too!"
"Oh, man. 'Cos last year, when I told my friends about it, I finally decided to make a move on you at the next USC party, but you had just officially gotten with someone else."
beat.
"Oh! You meant that like!"
6. when a girl invited me over to her place for a night of SNL, i figured she just wanted to be friends.
i had only very recently Come Out, so i was desperate for comrades.
and when she inched so close to me on the couch, to the point where she was practically sitting on one of my arms, i wondered if that was just how lesbians bonded.
7. Text: I'm stuck in traffic - I could really use some entertainment ;P
My reply: Oh...that's unfortunate. I'm sorry. :/ LA traffic sucks.
8. "Oh, man, I really wanna dance right now!"
"Go for it - I can't really dance."
---
and this is just a small sampling, mind you. i have 3 journals worth of bitter introspection and regret.
it always amazes me just how wonderfully and relentlessly i fuck things up.
if you have been on the receiving end of my clueless anti-whims, please know how deeply sorry i am.
talking to people on a one-on-one basis has never been easy for me; that middleground, between acknowledging that i can be too guarded only to discover, in an effort to remedy that flaw, that i'm also susceptible to word vomit, is yet to be charted.
try as i might to prevent myself from putting up my walls, keeping a wary eye on myself more than on the situation at hand, i tend to grasp for any possible thought to keep things going. and more often than not, all i find is that no matter what, being myself around people who interest me is tough; i either don't open up enough, or i try to be so exposed that the words that fly out of my mouth, like shrapnel over a promising conversation, are false.
so, again, i'm sorry to those i may have hurt or deterred.
i can honestly say that it's not you, it's me.
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