About A Girl: Choke
“I’m gonna tell her.”
“You should.” Nick said as he visually molested his vanilla ice cream cone.
“I will. You think she’ll like me back?”
“I don’t know.” he said as he bit off the top of his ice cream, “She seems very flirty, but that maybe that’s just how she is.”
“Oh.” I said, a bit disillusioned.
“But you should tell ‘er.” He said like he knew something. Had she told him something?
“Do you know something?” My heart sped up a bit.
“I don’t know anything you don’t.” He said with an even more devious smile.
“If you know something you should tell me.”
“I told you I kn–.”
“MOTHERFUCKER, I BOUGHT YOU ICE CREAM!”
“Your point?”
“I buy you ice cream, you flap your lips.”
“I’m no whore. Besides, I told you, I know nothing you don’t.” He was either fucking with me or trying to get me think she told him something so I would be more confident when I told her how I felt.
“Prude.”
***
We had moved from inside the house to the patio, she looked awesome. Even banal chit-chat was exciting.
“So can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
“Yeah. Shoot.” Oh sweet baby jesus. This is it.
“Would you ever date a girl in a wheelchair?” My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
“Well, I don’t know. She’d have to be able to do the work on the sex. ‘Cause, you know, I can’t.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I see your point.” I could see my window opening.
“What about you?”
“What do you mean?” She looked confused.
“Would you ever date a guy in a wheelchair?” It was wide open and there must’ve some desert winds because my whole body felt hot. Everything slowed down and what was only a short 1 minute exchange seemed like hours.
“Yeah, but…”
“But?”
“The sex would have to would have to work.”
“Yeah, I know.” I knew what I needed to ask. A simple, “How about me?” would do it. Whenever I’m under stress, my chest breaks out in hives and I get itchy. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest and run away screaming. My brain told my heart to calm the fuck down, it wasn’t helping shit. The heart told the brain to go fuck itself and the penis politely told both of them to get their shit together. Amidst all the confusion, my mouth had no fucking idea what was going on. And just like that, the moment was gone. We started talking about other things and I didn’t hae the balls to broach the subject again.
I had done what I promised myself I wouldn’t do: Pussed out. But worst of all, I’d let myself down, It’s one thing to let other people down, you don’t know what they want or expect from you. I don’t like it, but it’s unavoidable sometimes. Letting myself down though… that’s unacceptable. I know what I’m capable of. So, when I don’t perform up to my expectations, I mentally berate myself. And that’s what I did for the rest of the night. I shut down and went inside my bubble. She talked and I responded, but I wasn’t there. I was in my head. My safe little bubble.
This entry was posted on December 19, 2009 at 2:05 am and is filed under Stories. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.
December 19, 2009 at 8:26 am
This and the last post were so amazing that I don’t know what to say except, thank you.
December 19, 2009 at 1:53 pm
Dammit.
I was looking forward to a positive outcome even if it was just you making the leap and letting her know.
You and blue-eyed Nazi guy need to get together so you’ll have a pair of balls between the two of you.
December 20, 2009 at 11:46 pm
Honestly dude, I have never been as invested in any literary character as I am in your story. This whole sequence is one of the most compelling things I have ever read. I sit here cheering you on at the high points and crushed when it doesn’t work out for you. Your writing has come so far since you first started.
December 21, 2009 at 1:48 am
What did she say when you asked if she would ever date someone in a wheelchair? Did she say, that “The sex would have to work”? What did she mean by that?
It’s so hard to tell where you are man. You kinda sound like you’re in the friend zone. But, why would she ask if you would ever date someone in a wheelchair if she wasn’t expecting the same question shot her way?
… Man I wish I understood girls, if I did I would help you. But, I rarely understand the meanings of their actions.
If you think about it though, you have two options. One option is to suck it up tell her that you like her ask her if she would give you a chance as her boyfriend (she may say no). The other option is to keep it inside and go through similar episodes where you hate yourself.
Doesn’t seem like to tough of a decision to me…
Rejection hurts, but it will not last forever.
Good luck.
PS Even if she doesn’t want to date you she will still like you as a friend.
December 21, 2009 at 5:10 am
You oughta come down to Atlanta sometimes. They got this group of pagan sex-priests and priestesses called the Temple of the Red Lotus. They put on some killer orgies. Check out their website here:
http://www.templeredlotus.com/
These guys are serious about helping everyone achieve sexual fulfillment. I’m not a part of it and don’t participate, but I know people that know people in it and I can definitely get you introduced.