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Tuesday, 13 November 2012

"Never too late" does not apply

I had something of an epiphany today. The kind that makes everything incredibly obvious once you think about it but also points out how stupid you were for not thinking of it earlier. 

I have, of course, not been able to stop thinking of LesMisGuy. I have even guiltily kept a tab with the script of Cyrano de Bergerac open, scrolled down to just the part I've committed to memory (except not quite, which is why I keep the tab open in the first place):

Un baiser... le mot es doux!
Je ne vois pas pourquoi votre lèvre ne l'ose
S'il la brûle déjà, que sera-ce la chose?
Ne vous en faites pas un épouventement
N'avez-vous pas tantôt, presque insensiblement,
Quitté le badinage et glissé sans alarmes,
Du sourire au soupir, et du soupire aux larmes!
Glissez encore un peu d'insensible façon,
Des larmes au baiser, il n'y a qu'un frisson!

Un baiser...

Mais, à tout prendre, qu'est-ce?
Un serment fait d'un peut plus prés, une promesse
Plus précise, un aveu qui veut se confirmer,
Un point rose qu'on met sur l'i du verbe aimer.
C'est un secret qui prend la bouche pour oreille,
Un instant d'infini qui fait un bruit d'abeille.
Une communion ayant un goût de fleur,
Une façon d'un peu se respirer le coeur
Et d'un peu se goûter, au bord des lèvres, l'âme!

You know the one (well, perhaps you didn't but now you certainly do).

At any rate, I haven't quite made my point yet. I was stuck in a fantasy where I told someone about these lines in Cyrano and recited them by heart. Somewhere in the background is LesMisGuy, quietly reciting the lines with me, listening to the conversation and slowly coming to realise how much he hurt me. I would then tell whoever I was talking to that he/she could guess exactly how many times I'd kissed anyone who thought of kisses that way (zero) which could be inferred from how few men I've ever kissed (two). It got me thinking of D, which I rarely do at all these days.

I initially felt too strongly about him. I still liked him too much. I was convinced I loved him still. I wanted to forgive everything he ever did, finding explanations and excuses so it would all be my fault. I later on agreed that his behaviour was rather sociopathic. I left it at that, feeling like it was enough to have finally figured it out and accepted it. It only ocurred to me that I left that thought unfinished, because I never delved into the depths of how that affected me. I said it to D and I don't think I ever said it to anyone else: I felt like a blow up doll with home delivery service. To a good extent, it's not so much what I felt as what I was. It's only obvious, then, that in spite of my wanting to have a healthy attitude towards men, relationships and sex in the future I didn't. The problem with this being, of course, that I didn't quite realise it until today, at about 11am (if it's important, which it isn't). 

I went back to memories of that night with LesMisGuy and wondered if I would have been more comfortable with him turning me on. I wondered if I would have been more comfortable turning him on (deliberately). I wondered if I wouldn't have, perhaps, been more easily assured that he liked me and felt no need to be quite so insecure. I wondered if I would have told him about being insecure and called myself a prude. I wonder if he didn't see through all that, notice how broken I am and decide not to deal with it. 

You'd think this sort of epiphany is of the "never too late" kind. It's never quite too late to figure out what left you broken so you can try to fix it/deal with it in the future. It would certainly not be too late at 23 years young, with only "all the men in my life" ahead of me somewhere in the blurry future. And yet it is too late. I already fucked up with LesMisGuy and I had every tool to have figured things out sooner on my own. I could have maybe not fucked up with LesMisGuy. I could have maybe not jumped straight to the conclusion that he wanted nothing  more than to kiss and shag me. I would not have felt quite so much like a piece of meat.

Is it of the "better late than never" sort of thing? I suppose so, and yet I'm not happy with my late. I'm really not.


In other news, MrInteresting can be so transparent sometimes... Coming out of the statistics class he tried talking to me about how he felt the class was dumbed down for us. Except later he implied he'd chosen two hard courses this semester with both statistics and physics. Followed by the observation that he found statistics far easier than calculus ever was. Which was after I pointed out the professor tried to be nice to us. I ended the conversation pointing out that if we were doing any of the calculus related to statistics, it would make things a lot harder. I'm probably not making myself very clear so I'll go ahead and state the evidently-not-so-obvious: he was trying to guess what I was thinking so he'd have something to start a conversation with. He already knows I don't find the statistics class to be very challenging and wish there was more to it. It was a cheap shot and I sort of caught it early enough that I deliberately wanted to disagree with him no matter what he said. He also asked for help with an exercise before the class started, which I'm 80% sure he didn't need.

In an unrelated note, I had a dream last night where Arc and EBF were a couple (had been for a fairly long time) and they were sitting at a restaurant table with CtThumbe, giving her advice on relationships and men. I distinctly remember the advice gearing towards the sexual aspects of it all, blue balls included as a topic of conversation. The idea of hearing about how Arc handled EBF's sex drive felt very awkward (certainly TMI, even if it's all coming from a dream and I can't presently remember any of what was said... to CtThumbe, not even to me).

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