Alternate Reality Ramble 009

Intro

[This intro really isn't important at all, so, as always, feel free to skip it!]

A friend of mine has been seeing three guys for a few months. Things have been getting pretty serious, so the other day, we sat down and tried to figure out which one she really likes. We eliminated one guy B, but A and C were still in the equation. A is a sweetheart who doesn't want anything to be too serious but C is the kind who won't label anything but is practically her boyfriend. There are many stories pertaining to these two that we took into consideration before I settled on C. He hadn't even tried a move on her except just one kiss, by the way.

Where are the gentlemen in a time like this, amirite girls? *awkward fist bump moment* Apparently, chivalry isn't dead! Yessssss.

Another friend of mine has been messing around with a guy but she's been going crazy about how she isn't sure what they are to each other, and how everything is super confusing and how she doesn't want to drive him away.

POINT TO REMEMBER: If having The Talk or DTR-ing drives him away then you're better off without him.

[My friends would probably like to point out, at this point, that even at gunpoint I'd choose death over having The Talk depending on how confused I am which is really annoyingly accurate because I'm confused about everything all the time. I can't even decide what food I want for breakfast until it's time for lunch and I just eat whatever since I'm insanely hungry at that point]

So, anyway, these are the thing that inspired this story :)

The Story

"DTR? What's that? Not one of those weird internet acronym things, is it?" her friend asked her, inquisitively.

"Define the Relationship. It's super important! You have to make him DTR. Otherwise, he could do anything and just say that your relationship-or lack of-never specified this," she educated her best friend wisely.

Little did her friend know that she was the one who wasn't listening to her own advice. She knew how badly he wanted her to DTR but in their case, it was she who dragged her feet. She told her best friend that she wasn't ready to be with him because she wasn't sure if she was in love with him or because she wasn't ready to date yet. The truth was that she was the worst person to date. She really was.
Her head was a romantic-she wanted to be wooed, and courted like in the old days. She wanted to pray to the old gods and forsake the new ones. She wanted to be a more grown up and mature version of Juliet and she definitely wanted to be THAT sure about her Romeo. She didn't want to 'fool around' with He Who She Liked the Most. She wanted them to hug each other, to be close without being too close...basically to be an old sexless couple. Wasn't that just the dream? She wanted to jump 50 years ahead in their non-relationship relationship. She wanted to talk, to feel, to touch without the obsessive fire of desire. Sex complicated things. Or maybe she had just watched too many black and white movies too damn many times.
She mingled with a Cosmopolitan in her hand. She spoke to everyone, made a new friends, she downed a few drinks and felt it happening again. This might be a much more formal party than the ones people get drunk at but it wasn't the alcohol speaking to her, anyway. It was that side of her that hated her. Whenever she started getting too attached to one person, it would start again and it was happening. As always.
Now, she'd keep running into guys that she found attractive who were just her type-something he wasn't. She love talking to them and flirt enough to charm them into liking her. She was so enchanting that they were as attracted to her as she thought they were to her. Did she suddenly start giving out pheromones or was it that the people she normally found too dull to pay attention to were suddenly becoming fascinating. Of course, the simplest explanation would be that she was trying to distract herself. Today's party was giving a whole new meaning to the saying about fish in the sea!
Finally, someone asked her if she wanted a drink and she was conflicted enough to say yes. At the end of the night, she went home with a tingling sensation on her lips. Kissing someone was so satisfying-especially when the man in question was so utterly fascinated by her. They clearly weren't going to end up together and thus, it was a bit of harmless making out. It was wonderful. It felt like freedom.
On going home, she put her phone on charge. The first thing she noticed was a text from a guy she had tried to spend the night without thinking of. She felt oddly guilty about something but she rationalized it-they hadn't DTR'd. She had done nothing wrong.

All was well and the world was just fine.

Alternate Reality Ramble 008

Intro

[Warning: Long intro. Scroll down if you only want to read the story since it's different from what you think it is :3 And it's really more my normal style than most of my posts so far!
NOT PG13, maybe R.
Trigger warning: Can't spoiler it but be careful? Now scroll down past this or read from here onward :P]

So, this one has a direct tie in to an incident that occurred but I'm not completely sure whether I should explain the incident since I may decide to use it for an alternate reality moment in the future.
I'm still conflicted and since I'm writing the post, I might as well tell ya'll a brief version of it.

I took a guy to a club and we kept running into people I knew. There were a group of people who were younger than us (read: girls who weren't regulars at going out like this which is a good thing. Don't repeat my mistakes, wait till your age to do things like drink and party...who am I kidding? It's less fun when it's legal. Go, enjoy :P) but not by much. They fell over him and I basically let him fend for himself because it was hilarious. Also, if you're reading this, it's because I was hoping he'd date one of you. I feel like he desperately needs a life that isn't mostly centered around me right, now, okay? :P And if he ever finds this blog and reads it, you know it's true. Don't deny it :P

The story, yes, sorry, rambling and whatnot. I tend to get carried away...so fast forwarding, I'd like to point out that one 19 year old girl seemed really upset about being a virgin. And her drunk self was really sad and loud about it. She seems really nice, and I liked her so I'm really hoping it's not going to become more of a deeper issue than it already is, because honey, I'm going to tell you something very important and I really want you to actually hear me when I say this:

It's okay to not have sex.

It's also okay to have sex.

Don't give in to peer pressure and whatnot, just be okay with yourselves and everything else will work out fine.

The thing is, Society is a weird place. A century or longer ago, people would have gone batshit crazy if someone wasn't a virgin on their wedding night. It was a scandal that could ruin not only a girl but a family, as well! And now, it's disastrous to be a virgin. *shakes head*

I feel like the human race is basically like Hamlet and Shakespeare's the only guy who knew that. Ergo, the only deep meaning we're supposed to find in the play is: GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND DECIDE WHAT YOU ALL THINK IS AND ISN'T PROPER AND DON'T KEEP CHANGING THOSE RULES SO MUCH! We tend to go back and forth so much! Pfft.

Anyway, so this story is a little bit about sexuality or a lack of, a little bit of Poe, a little bit of Tarantino, and a whole lot of me ;)

Viola:

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The Story

She shivered at the thought of his hands curling around her waist, pulling her closer until she was practically attached to him. She felt tingling in places she had possibly only dreamed of before and felt slightly ashamed of herself. It's a natural thing, she whispered to herself, it happens to everyone and I'm okay with it, I really am!

She thought about how he had rested his head on her shoulder and their hands had intertwined together. She hadn't felt sparks but she did have some goosebumps, although it might have just been the chill of the air conditioner. Or maybe something else, she wouldn't have known. His big hands engulfed hers and made her feel protected and safe. Little did he know that it was probably the other way round...for a while, anyway.

She imagined pulling him close to her and kissing him savagely. She could almost feel her hands exploring his chest in an anticipatory way. She ripped open his shirt and pushed him to the bed with her suddenly strong but daintily masked hands that smelt slightly metallic right now. That was weird, why did it feel like...she shook her head again. She was back to undoing his belt and fumbled at the buttons. Jeans were such a painful piece of apparel. Why would anyone create such instruments of torture?

There was no music, only the static sound of feral anticipation and longing. This was the moment she had been waiting for. This was worth it all. She refused to let him get up as she straddled his hips and started stripping very methodically. It wouldn't do to get the clothes dirty, she knew that. he kissed every inch of her accessible skin hungrily as she sat on him, finally completely naked.

The awkward pause jerked her awake. She was in the bathroom. This wasn't her bathroom...or was it? No. No! How did she get here? What was she doing here? She felt a nice, comfortable liquid all over her. The metallic smell made her think red before she even looked. She went back into the room and stared at him with a sort of clinical detachment. The deed was done and there was nothing left for her here.

She licked him off her fingers and savoured the salty taste of it. It wasn't the taste that she enjoyed, so much as the act that had created it. She shivered once again, and whispered, "Shhh, it's over. It was fun but not for a while again, okay?"

She went back into the bathroom and chose the gray towel that smelt like he had. In the shower, she watched as all the red collected on the floor. Blood was so hard to get out of the nails, she sighed. All cleaned up, she said a mental goodbye to him and left his apartment.

A week later, at the funeral, her friends asked her what she had thought about his brutal and still unsolved murder. She said that she didn't know him very well but that it was a shame.

"But you had a crush on him, didn't you? You guys had been spending some time together recently! You must be devastated..."

"No, no," she soothed them, "I barely knew him. I'm sure he was a great guy but the most I did is kiss him. That's all, really."

The Virgin smiled to herself. She wasn't lying. All they really did is indulge in a heavy soul searching make out session.

Hey, she said to herself again, maybe too much lust killed him? Shaking her head again, she went on with her life.

-x-

Alternate Reality Ramble 007

Intro

This is about space, personal space is very important. One of the things I hate is people disregarding the importance of personal space. And a couple of my friends are in relationships where they're basically suffocating because of the lack of space.

This goes out to all those who understand the difference between comfort and nosiness.

The Story

The days passed so slowly for him sometimes. Especially since they were so far apart. They weren't going to be able to meet until at least 6 more months and it was killing him. He Facetimed her almost everyday but she was always so busy. They used to send messages to each other all the time. Stupid little mundane messages, asking about each others' day and what colour their outfits were or the weather...things like that. She always got so mad when he asked her who she was out with, where they were going, how late it would be...things like that that used to be their thing. Was it just his existence that annoyed her? Or was it something more?

She woke up, hungover, and the first thing she did is check her phone. No messages from him. She had too much pride to send a message first so she would just have to wait for him to send one. He would, eventually. He was so annoying about the whole 'let's talk everyday and share our feelings' and shit. She was okay with it in the beginning but it was getting so tiresome. Is this why so many people got married and then ended up getting divorced? Was it just too difficult to be with that only one person that you choose to be with for the rest of your life? She put the phone down and went back to a restless sleep.

He wondered what she was doing, it was something he thought about a lot but doubted that she wasted any time dwelling on. She must have gone out last night, since she didn't pick up his call. Or maybe she was finally tired of him? He waited for the relief that that thought would bring to him but all he felt was a hollow sort of emptiness. Without her, he would survive. But with her, he was the best version of himself that he could be. It was almost supernatural, the way she made him be so much more than he was and more than he ever thought he could be. Should he take the first step, as always? Should he do it? Would she find it imposing and annoying and not reply or switch off her phone or something, or, if he was lucky, would she respond and not be in a cranky mood for once?

She couldn't go back to sleep. It was too weird, that he hadn't texted last night or in the morning. She knew he was up, she probably knew his routine better than he did-another thing that annoyed her about herself! She was a 'strong, independent woman' (or so they said) and she shouldn't be so dependent on a man. Or a relationship. Hence, she decided she'd go out again tonight. To prove that she was just fine all on her own. Life was good. Life was great. But life felt like there was a tiny hole in the side sucking at her, making it impossible for her to really be happy. She sighed, maybe she SHOULD text him. After all, who cared about these things? The bottom line was that at least they'd be in touch.

He paced back and forth tying to decide if he should do it. If he should text her. She would be awake by now, he knew. Her patterns were utterly unpredictable-something that he loved liked about her-but he could feel that she was awake. Most probably, that was just fanciful thinking. But hey, you never know! Maybe he shouldn't text her. Maybe she needed some space. No. He was so conflicted. Finally, he decided that he WOULD text her. She was his and he was hers and nothing else really mattered. Not even if neither of them would be able to label what they were to each other. Not even if they couldn't decided how they felt about each other. Not even...if anything. They were theirs. And it was okay.

It's not like she was dating him or anything. So she probably shouldn't text him so obsessively or anything. But so what? She didn't want to date him. Or did she? She didn't know. She had always been an insanely confused individual. She never knew what she wanted. She had, however, made it clear to him, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't in the dating zone. And probably didn't like him that way. But all her friends saw something else. And it was insane. Or was it? She didn't even know. Either way, there's no way he thought of her that way. She had sent so many hints, questions and signals but she had never gotten appropriate responses. They were probably never going to be a thing.

Then he remembered that she always sort of...friend zoned him. And after that, he had started doing it to her. They could never be together. She had been so clear about that...hadn't she? Every once in a while she gave out these weird vibes or feelings but he was never really sure. And she always seemed so sure all the time! He wished that he could always be that confident and so completely zen. She was always at peace, he used to joke that she should be a redhead. Fiery and confident, so she could tell him that he knew nothing. Another silly little suggestive joke between them that was yet another confusing message. He shook his head. It was just one text, no harm, no foul.

"Hi" "Hey"

Each got a message from the other at exactly the same time. They both laughed and felt their hearts get a little lighter, suddenly.

And then, the cycle repeated itself yet again, with both hiding themselves from themselves and each other while baring their other-selves so easily that it was obvious what they had been hiding for so long.