Tuesday, September 21, 2004

excitement

i don't think i have felt this kind of excitement since i was leaving for thailand. the pat twenty-four hours have been filled with thoughts of looking at the mountains of my past. of driving around in my old klunky saab with the sunroof open and the heat on, late at night, with lydia by my side. of listening to raging lesbian music and wondering why life has to be so complicated. i don't think it was until i left vermont that i really began to love it with all of my heart. i am not excited to go to america. i could take it or leave it. but i am so excited to be in vermont. to see old friends, to walk around woodstock. to see the leaf-peepers and think...'i am still a local.'

this weekend was an eye opener to me.

on friday i went out, as usual, to seua saming. always the same story, slightly loopy, rather intoxicated, feeling flirty, wanting to forget that for five days of the week, i am 'croon croo farang' (white teacher.), and that i am human.

around 130am, just when things are starting to go well and people are realling 'having it' as mark would say, who walks in, but bung. not who i want to see. not even a week ago i drove over a mountain at midnight to take care of his sad heart, only to have him tell me he 'doesn't want to think about me now.' charming. he looked right through me. there was a fake aura about him. trying to be happy, when he knew he wasn't. trying to forget about the problems we have been having, but knowing i cannot.

as i stared in amazement, all watching for a reaction from me, i walked over and put my hand on his shoulder. seua is my haven, my happy place, the place where we can all let go. and to have him come and spy on me, to take that away from me, i was upset. and to reiterate, a little intoxicated. he whispered to me: 'i come here because i know i see you here.' shocking. he proceeded to twirl me around the dancefloor (i love to be twirled) and then in a way that can be described as anything but romantic, he shoved his tongue so far down my throat i choked. he was trying to eat me. he was trying to get something from inside of me. he was trying to taste what i taste. he was trying to reach my heart so he could have it back. not because he misses me, but because he misses the life with me.

twenty minutes later tom jones came on and we knew it was time to go home. i saw him out, so i thought. i went back inside to chat with friends. i heard a noise from behind the curtains, pushed my hand through the purple silk that lines the walls, and i felt a familiar shape. it was him. he was hiding, listening to me talk. after i noticed him he ran out as if i had done something wrong. i am not too sure what happened after that, but the night finished with him saying 'i dont want to think about you right now.' and him trying to run me over with his motorbike. if that's not love, i dont know what is.

what a sick turn of events the past few months have brought me.

24 hours later i was basking in the after-hours-ugly-light with bambroon, listening to his words pass through me with his hands around my own.

'i love you.'

'you have a girlfriend.'

silence.

'i am falling in love with you.'

'we need time.'

'we have time'

'let's take time.'

two thai kisses, and he was off.

who knows where this is all going. i want to learn these lessons for myself. i want to know what it all feels like. i know the mistakes i am making while i make them. but they dont feel like mistakes. when enough is enough, i will wipe my hands on his shirt, and walk the other way.

the beauty of life is that we can always walk the other way.

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