Ok guys. I really fucked up. I mean seriously fucked up.
I actually can’t even type this without tearing up. I’m such a girl sometimes.
Ok I am gonna lay it out. I had sex with Scott’s friend, Jordan. One of his best friends here in PH.
It was stupid and selfish. I don’t like him. And I will not like him. He is not the guy for me. He also just recently broke up with his gf of two years a few weeks ago.
There’s not really any excuse. He definitely started it, but I didn’t stop it. I made the choice my body wanted, and disregarded my head and heart. This was a few weeks ago. I asked him not to say anything to Scott. Again, selfish. But I was ashamed and…then there’s Scott. Sleeping with one of his friends could finish any chance of us. He is loyal and a good man when his heart is in it.
It seemed like things were going to blow over. Miraculously nothing was mentioned.
Until this past Saturday that is. (Insert slap hand to forehead here)
Jordan’s idea: he wanted to drink and drink hard. Scott was away taking flying lessons for 4 days. When he got home he told me all about it and when I asked him if he was lonely there he said he was. He told me all this things he did: mud sliding, the movies, pubs. Then he asked me if I’d like to come with him the next time he went. His exact words were: “It was fun, but all I really wanted was someone there like a girlfriend that I could do all these things with.”
Me. Scott. Alone…4 days and 3 nights…tenting together in a beautiful area? Like a girlfriend? Thought of me…? Um, gasp, catch breath, exhale…repeat.
I told him I’d see if I could get work off. Then he starting listing off all the things we could do together there. He said he wanted to show the place off to me because he knew I would love it as much as he did. He said his instructor had a surf board with a sail we could borrow and go windsurfing. He said..a lot :) His asking me to come with him said a lot.
I think that was the first time I felt really comfortable with the concept of me and him, as more than roommates. Is your heart fluttering as much as mine is right now?
Saturday night came, the boys arrived. It was a usual night. Except it wasn’t because there were sparks and they were obvious and they were flying.
Jordan was being extra flirty. Most likely because I was paying him no attention. I’ve been there, in his shoes. He just wanted to feel special again. But it would have been false and I wasn’t going to do that again.
Meanwhile, Scott and me had sang “Ain’t no mountain high enough” together the night of my birthday when we celebrated just me and him. He was determined to do it again. So, he put it on and we let loose. I haven’t sung like that in a long time. We held hands and he stood above me as I sat in a chair. And we sang every word to each other. It flew by. I remember feeling no embarrassment. We just fed off each other. Then the song ended and I was utterly euphoric. So was he. Then he bent swiftly down and kissed me on the lips.
Insert gasp and heart stop here.
It has been years since that has happened to me, and it's only happened once before. I'll never forget it. That moment that you don't see coming. That first kiss, being a complete and total surprise. The boy you care for having the guts and making that first move because he wants it that badly too. And at the same time it being the only thing you'd wanted in the world to happen.
The look of surprise on my face did it and he immediately started backtracking his actions but before he could get a proper sentence out I held fast to his hand and drug him down to meet me again.
Shaken, giddy and elated we moved to the couch where I sat and he layed with his head in my lap. I stroked his hair and he stroked my leg.
Things were going very, very well.
Then. Of course. Karma is a bitch. Don’t ever think it won’t come back and bite you in the ass, because let me tell you it will.
At some point Jordan got Scott into the kitchen and told him. I walked in to them talking about it. I swiftly walked out. SHIT FUCK DAMN. These were running through my head as I sat down on my bed drink in hand. That was that then.
So, I had two options. Stay locked in my bedroom and pout OR head back downstairs and face the music. MUSIC IT WAS. I did the only thing I could, and strut my stuff back down there like nothing had happened.
Things were tense. Real life Jersey Shore-esk behavior at its best. We soon went out, walking to see a band play outside. Somehow I ended up walking arm in arm with Scott, alone, during which time there was some serious venting. Lots of hurtful comments, but none undeserved. And then we seemed, back, and ok. He paid my way in and bought my drinks. We danced and sang Mr. Jones and all those old cover songs bands play.
I left the boys around 2:30, catching a ride home. I made my way up to sleep but kept my door open wide. I was awoken by a heavy body on me and drunken slurring. I was sure it was Scott.
To my utter surprise, I turned and it was JORDON! I practically screamed at him to get out and he finally left in a huff.
Jeeesus. What next.
I fell into a clumsy sleep and was soon awakened by a sweet quiet voice saying my name softly. This was it. I beckoned him in and he joined me under the covers. He took me in his arms at once and I just bathed in the warmth of him around me. We lay together and hugged and kissed each other all over. He wrapped my leg around his body. We breathed each other in. He told me I was gorgeous. That I was so beautiful. That he thought I was the coolest girl. That he was so happy he was my roommate. We kissed. A lot. He asked me what my dreams in life were. He told me he cared about me and that scared him. He told me he loved me at one point (but it was probably just the beer talking). We did not have sex. We just layed together.
He told me my hair smelled good.
Sunday dawns and I am awkward as hell. Stone cold, indifferent as fuck, it’s my defense. Too terrified of rejection, It’s so difficult to just let be. He is the same, or so that’s what I perceive. I know he doesn’t want a commitment. He’s only made that offhand comment 100 times since I’ve met him. I’ve witnessed him with other girls. I never cared before…
I am working hard on just letting be. And returning to being myself around him. To not ignoring and being short with him. I don't need to defend. I, me, am the girl who he hugged tight all night long. That same make up less, bra less girl he's lived with for almost 3 months...
And now I can’t help but…possibly love him too. (but that’s just the beer talking again)
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