Category Archives: Evie

No One Warned Me

… that this would happen.

I guess I should’ve known, when Lana told me about her sexual experience with a girl, that it was her. But the thought never even occurred to me. I didn’t press for details, because I could tell she was uncomfortable… I didn’t need to know what she didn’t want to tell me, and I respected her decision  to share only a vague version of the story. At the time, I had no idea that the things she was hiding were things she was hiding from me alone.

This Sunday things got a little messy. After a gloriously lazy afternoon filled with ridiculous blog posts, fantasy threesomes, and piontless walks to Starbucks, I was left without a care in the world. Everything was funny, everything was fun, everything was perfect. So perfect in fact, that I felt absolutely no qualms about flirting with Evie via text. It was all just innocent fun… right? Wrong. It turns out that, in between all the obsessing about Sasha Pivovarova and complaining about our respective illnesses, I had been leading her on. Again.

Okay, actually… I knew I was doing it. I was flirting. I was flirting because I had been thinking about it. Wondering about it. What it would be like if we were a couple… monogamously. (Something about being lonely and looking at far too many pictures of Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson.)

But by the time I realized I had officially crossed the line, that I had given her the impression that that’s definitely what I wanted… I just knew I couldn’t go through with it. I ended up apologizing profusely and telling her what I knew I should have told her long ago – that I had been attracted to her, but that I didn’t want to pursue a relationship. Her response?

“It doesn’t matter anyway because I fucked Lana.”

And just like that, it all became clear. The three separate conversations I had had with Lana about her experience… the reason her boyfriend broke up with her… the story that was intentionally left vague. she had told it that way for a reason.

I quickly texted Evie back – told her, or more like begged her, not to feel badly about it – and ran outside to the cold night air with the family dog in tow. Oh, and I put on a black sweater before I went.

 It was just too much. I was feeling so many things at once that I couldn’t even tell what all of them were. There were emotions that were more prevalent than others though, and they changed by the minute. Guilt. Betrayal. Empathy. Anger. Loss. Confusion. Jealousy? No, not jealousy… I couldn’t even think about jealousy. Mostly I just felt horrible for leading Evie on, upset that she should feel badly about anything, sorry that it had been so awkward for them both, and a little angry that neither of them had told me sooner. I couldn’t even cry, that is how bad it was.

Luckily, Evie called me while I was still on my walk. It took a while, and we both had to admit to things that we didn’t necessarily want to admit to. But we were able to clear up the mess… and in so doing, solidify our friendship.

Me and Lana, on the other hand… Well, she hasn’t been returning my phone calls. Busy? Or a classic case of avoidance? The world may never know…

And Lana, if you’re reading this – I’m not mad at you, we just need to talk. Please call me back!

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In Conclusion

*** I would like to preface this post by saying that I in no way pretend to (fully) understand female sexuality (my own included)! I do not want to make anyone feel that I have tricked them into believing something about me, only to wind up taking it back. I also appreciate the support I recieved after writing about my confusing (or enlightening) experience. It was scary for me to put that out there, and you all really helped! So thank you. And if you feel I’m leaving anything out, please feel free to ask… I’m trying to be as honest as possible. *** 

I like boys. There, I said it. 

I feel better already!

About a week ago, I posted this blog (followed by this one… and this one) detailing my maybe-possibly crush on one of my female friends.

At the time, I thought my crush was undeniable… unquestionable… real. So I did what any rational, but confused person would do in this situation: I told EVERYONE. Okay… maybe not everyone. Just my friend Suzy, my mom, my brother, and anyone else who reads this blog (a.k.a. all of you)!

It was true, I had been attracted to girls in the past, fleetingly, curiously – and now I had even experienced a physical, chemical, sexual attraction to my friend Evie… so did that mean I was bi? I didn’t really like the term “bi-sexual”, nor did I feel any strong association with it; but when I told people about my crush, I reasoned that I must be bi… considering that the only real implication of this term is that I am attracted to girls as well as boys. But whenever I had this conversation with anyone, my confession always felt a little flat… and I couldn’t help feeling that, even though I had reacted to my friend sexually, I was basically full of shit. I was lying, somehow.

Intensifying this little suspicion was the fact I did not feel like I had a crush on my friend… at least, not a crush the in way that I had so far known crushes to be.  

I did not feel about Evie the way that I felt about boys I had liked. I did not think of her constantly, plagued by wonderings about whether or not she liked me, hypothetical scenarios about what it would be like to be together, and the strange kind of worry mixed with excitement and anticipation that necessarily accompanied every other crush I had ever had. When I thought about being involved with her romantically, my prevailing thought was – “Well that would be stupid!” I did not want Evie to be my girlfriend… I loved her, adored her… but as a friend.

Boys on the other hand… well I won’t get into the details (at least… not yet) but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I do want them. A LOT.

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Filed under Evie, Love, Lust

After the Storm

“Have you talked to Evie yet?” My mom asked me as she drove me home from work. It was dark out, and the night was quiet.

“I haven’t seen her since…” I answered.

She wasn’t the only one who seemed anxious for this conversation. If I was remembering correctly, all three people I had told had asked me the same question in the last three days… as if I would have needed reminding to give them an update.

“Do you still think you’re going to tell her?” She asked, feigning indifference.

“Yah.” I said, already a little annoyed. “I don’t want to feel like I need to keep things from her.”

Silence

“Do you think it will make things weird?” She asked, turning on the blinker and exiting the freeway.

“Maybe. But I don’t think it will help to keep things hidden. I’m just going to tell her what happened so that at least she knows.”

More silence.

“Why, you don’t think I should tell her?” I asked, more for her sake than my own. I knew she wanted to say something, but was keeping quiet out of respect. It was getting old, fast.

“I just think it might make her feel weird.”

“Well… she told me before, so I think I should be able to do the same.”

We continued on in that general loop as the drive continued. Her, hinting that my confession might compromise my and Evie’s friendship; and me, talking about honesty and how I like to have things out in the open, even if doing so makes things a little uncomfortable.

Eventually, I capped the conversation off by saying something like: “I don’t think it’s worth it to keep things to yourself just so you can have a comfortable, fictitious friendship.”

And we were home.

Over the last few days, I had felt calm, relaxed. I had made it through the initial freak-out of the first two days, the ones that immediately followed my little “sexual revelation” and the worry and fear I had experienced seemed to be behind me. I had absorbed the shock, I had told everyone I felt compelled to tell – Suzy, my brother (through his reading of this blog) and my mom. I had worked it over in my mind until there was nothing new to contemplate, examining it from every angle, looking for anything I may have missed. By putting it aside, I had achieved a kind of distance I appreciated. I was able to stand apart from the situation, as an outsider, glancing back occasionally to wonder at its meaning.

Free of analyzation, I began to uncover truths that I had missed in my panicked state. I realized that, even though I had experienced an attraction to my female friend, I didn’t feel bi-sexual. The curious sexual excitement I had sometimes felt for other women – strangers – seemed to disappear as well. It was as if, through my concentration on this one event, I had thoroughly exhausted any curiosity I ever had about being with another woman. Which was strange, because I didn’t feel as though being with a woman would be anything to be ashamed of. I just had absolutely no desire to go there.

Still, I knew things could change. I hadn’t seen Evie for a while, and I didn’t pretend to know if my attraction would return when I did. So when my mom asked me whether or not I was going to tell her, I felt annoyed… closeted.

I was aware that this was not a topic my mother was completely comfortable with. No doubt the last two days since my confession had left her more than a little confused. If I were to decide to be with Evie, this discomfort would only grow. I knew that. But, for once, I didn’t want to talk about it.

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Filed under Evie, Life at Home

Nothing Happened

For background on this post (or, in order to understand what the hell I am talking about), go here.

I told my mom.

I had planned on telling her the day after the nothing/something had happened, but I felt too sick, too… scared. I had no idea how she would react. At best, I reasoned, she wouldn’t care. At worst, she would disown me. I understood, from a rational perspective, that my mom did love me, that our relationship was solid, etc., but I was still worried, I didn’t want to freak her out. She’s pretty Christian, after all… and Christians are pretty notorious for going around flinging the ‘S’ word (sin) at anyone and everyone in a same-sex relationship. Not that I was in one… but still.

I had, however, gotten up the nerve to talk to her about sex… or more precisely, to tell her that I might not be waiting until marriage to have it. That was step enough. It had taken all the boldness I could muster just to tell her what I meant (rather than continue on with my vague dithering about “things she might not approve of,” etc.) Surprisingly, she did not tell me that sex was absolutely forboden… that I would be cast out of the family immediately upon having it, nor did she ever use the ‘S’ word… not even once.

The talk was a big step, and only after we’d finished talking did I realize how big a deal it really was. I had been seriously slacking! Here I was, the oldest out of three, thinking that any subversive behavior would be grounds for dis-ownership… or at least a week-long lecture! How were my younger siblings ever going to be able to talk about these things if I couldn’t?

After the talk, I put the events (or non-events) of that haunting night out of my mind. I couldn’t think about it anymore… at least, not all the time. Instead, I plunged myself back into the warm, welcoming depths of my infatuation with The Blog Crush. I took comfort in its familiarity – tracing our mutual desire over pages of teasing, affectionate notes – and marvelled at its rapid, irrational growth. Sex in words, without the convolution of real life. Soon I was trading in my dreary darks for bright, flirtatious outfits. The self-repression was melting away, and I began to feel myself freed, and happy.

But as with any obsession, I quickly consumed too much. Now it was not just those same haunting memories that made me feel nausious and uncertain… but the over-indulgence of a dependency I myself had created out of my own desperate desire to be wanted.

The feelings I had seemingly developed for my friend did not make me happy. Even after removing all the questions, all the anxieties – instead of feeling myself fallen for her, it was as if she had awakened some deep, primordial need within me. But I would still have to tell her. I liked Evie, and I wanted our friendship to last… keeping secrets was not the way to do this. And even though I now knew that what I wanted was to be her friend and not her lover, I had to face the facts. I was attracted to her, and with all the time me and Evie were used to spending alone together, something could still happen… I could even change my mind… eventually.

Knowing this, I had to tell my mom. If something did end up happening, if I did change my mind, I wanted her to have fair warning.

So I told her.

She was surprised, a little confused, but over all… supportive. I had thought it would be difficult to say to her, but for some reason or another, I had felt so relaxed and self-assured before-hand that I really didn’t experience any of the fear I thought I would.  It was almost as if I had said, “You know mom, I’m thinking about going to medical school…” and she had said, “Really? I would never have guessed that about you.”

(Which, incidentally, is what she said about my crush. But not in a disapproving way, thank God!)

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Filed under Evie, Happiness, I Think I Have a Crush, Love, Lust, The Blog Crush

Something’s Happened

Or, nothing’s happened… depending on how you look at it.

In case you hadn’t noticed, not a lot happens here in The Land of the Weirdo (i.e. me); unless, of course, you count all of the things that happen in The Mind of the Weirdo (also me).

Seriously, if you were made to live a day in my head, I can pretty much guarantee your desperate attempt to escape within the hour. Except on some days. Some days are brilliant and holy, and full of Stevie Wonder, The Blog Crush, and hilarious music videos. Some days it is all that is lovely and warm and perfect. Some days it is all happiness. Today, however, was not one of those days.

Let me give you a little introduction…

Me and my friend Evie have known each other for about 6 months… not exactly life-long friends, but we’ve gotten close. We enjoy spending time together and she’s one of the few people in life who I’ve instantly “clicked” with. We’ve had our ups-and-downs (there was one month where she thought I was perpetually mad at her for no apparent reason) and we’ve made it out the other side to what has become an even, balanced friendship.

Well a couple months back, Evie decided to ask me if I thought of her as more than a friend. She had been getting what she percieved to be mixed-messages, and was having trouble “figuring me out.” In one of those pivitol-moments-that-would-be-a-lot-more-pivitol-if-it-weren’t-for-the-invention-of-texts, the truth came out: I didn’t have feelings for her… but she had feelings for me. We decided to stay friends anyway. I hoped it wouldn’t be weird at all, and she assured me that it was no-big-thing, that far more embarrassing things had happened.

And she was right.

I’ll admit that I did feel a little awkward the first time we hung out post-confrontation… I mean, if I had sent her mixed-signals before, who’s to say I wouldn’t end up sending them again? I didn’t want to confuse her, so I became even more  aloof than usual.

Fast-forward to the age of now, and our friendship is once again on equal footing, thank God. When you find someone who you can laugh with at just about anything, and who just inherently gets you, it’s not exactly pleasant to think that you may have lost them. Sure, I have my own varrying personalities (you know, the ones in my head) to talk to, but this is different. And sometimes, better.

Anyway, as I had Tuesay off from work this week (as I always have Tuesdays off, possibly because they think I am in school), me and Evie and Suzy-Q all decided to spend the day together. We went to lunch, we drank a little, we talked about sex a lot (okay, mostly they talked, I listened. Hello– virgin!) and we went shopping. It was EXHAUSTING. Too much alcohol, too much sun, too much estrogen. Just… too much. Once the little outing was over (and not a moment too soon… though I do lurve them both) we headed back to Evie’s house to make applesauce-cake (yes, that’s a real thing) and watch a movie (Frida). SQ, as fate would have it, had already made plans to go out to dinner with some other friends (huh?), so she had to leave before the cake was even made. No biggie though, Evie and I have always been great at the one-on-one thing (something about both being just that little bit “off center.”)

So me and Evie made the cake, watched the movie (which was hot – seriously), and were just about to get into the car so she could take me home…. only, it had gotten late. Being pretty sleepy already, Evie didn’t exactly want to get into a car, especially as the ride home from my place would leave her alone and bleary-eyed, which equals danger, and possibly death. In the end I decided to spare her life. We would sleep at her place and get up early enough for me to get home, get showered, and get to class. Perfect.

Now I would like to preface this next bit by saying that I have slept in the same bed as Evie before. I slept fine, although I do generally have trouble falling asleep in surroundings that aren’t very familiar to me. This was the first night in a new room (she had just moved back with her Grandma) so I should have anticipated some trouble in that department.

What I didn’t anticipate, however, was the other reason for not being able to sleep.

To be honest, I had noticed a bit of a change of behavior during the day. Only this time, it was my behavior I was taking note of. Sometimes, when I am attracted to someone, this thing will just click in my brain that says “BE SEXY.” Without much warning, my posture changes, I become very aware of my curves (aren’t I always?), and what’s worse is, I become distinctly and utterly aware of everything I am doing. I become… self-conscious. So I suppose it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me that I would still be this way… in her bed.

We talked for a while about important things, things that you only talk about at night… or at least, things that seem to bear more significance when accompanied by darkness and relative silence. And then, we were just lying there… silent, tempting sleep. I listened to the sound of her breathing, to the little snores that proved she was asleep, and that made me smile in spite of myself. Apparently she wasn’t sleeping very well though, because she kept waking up and moving to a slightly different place on the mattress…. I would shift my position, she would change hers…. sooner or later, we were facing each other; separate, but close.

The sexual tension was keeping me up. I could not fall asleep.

At one point, while she was awake, she moved her leg ever-so-slightly and our feet connected at the toes. And it was… insane. I could feel an electric current pulsing through my leg, starting at the place where her foot touched mine. It was impossible not to be aware of. I was experiencing a full-blown, chemical reaction in MY TOES for Christ’s Sake! It was almost too intense. I wanted to move away, to pull my body away from hers, to the far edge of the bed, to safety. But then, if I moved, I wouldn’t be there anymore. And I wanted to be there.

***

(If you were geared up for a full-on lesbian-encounter story, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen. Seriously, you can get your hand out of your pants now! All we did was sleep… when we could.)

For those of you who may be confused, I am not a “lesbian”… I still like boys, very, very much. But I’m also attracted to girls. And I hate the word “bi.” And if that only serves to confuse you even more – go here immediately, it’ll make everything clearer, I swear.

No really, click the link, I don’t have all day.

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Filed under Evie, I Think I Have a Crush, Love, Lust