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Not This Time
2003-04-05
Sometimes I wonder if I have any common sense left in my head at all. Is there such a thing as common sense at all? If there is, it wouldn�t be found here. Common sense would stop me from believing that my sister had something to show me. Common sense would stop me from staying around after seeing him. Common sense would put the will in my legs and make me get out of there. There was no common sense tonight.At first it was fine, I sat so far away from him, concentrating on the TV and ignoring his words. Then somehow he squeezed himself next to me on the couch.
�Why haven�t you been picking up your phone?� He asked.
�I lost it.� I lied.
He stared at me for a moment. How I hate his stares. You can�t ignore it. It pierces through your body. Over the course of the night he kept grabbing my hand just to hold it. At first I wouldn�t let him, I wasn�t going to become that someone who gives way to his demands. It became increasingly hard to get away from his arms, his stares, just him all together. He wrapped his arms around me and I wasn�t free to go. He kept kissing my neck, my ears but I kept my eyes focused on the TV. It was the only thing stopping me from hitting him square in the face.
�You know I like you a lot�, He confessed.
�That�s nice�, I replied flatly.
�I�ll pay for your ticket to Florida for spring break, just come with me.�
�No thank you, I�m not interested.�
His brain must be pea-sized. Or maybe he doesn�t see rejection when it hits him in the face. Maybe saying no while being wrapped in his arms doesn�t send a clear message but when he asked if I like him I clearly said no. As the night went on, 3 bottles of vodka later (none drank by me), seeing 26 year olds playing jump rope, falling off beds and dry humping, I sort of loosened myself. I let him hold my hand, I didn�t jerk away when he kissed my cheek. He started getting fresh by putting his hands under my shirt to which I revolted. By 2 am my sister was already asleep, Peter was heading for bed too, his brother was on the couch next to us and my sister�s friend was lying in her bed in the same room. Suddenly everyone turned out the lights. My head was in my hands when everything went dark. I felt his lips on my neck.
�I want you�, he whispered. I was too tired to respond. He brought my face to his lips and kissed me for minutes. I felt myself being pushed down and few seconds later he was on top of me. Oh God he�s a bad kisser. I was slobbered all over. Being sober didn�t help it either. Disgust was washing over me. I pushed him off and got up, he sat next to me and started doing it all over.
�Lie down on the floor.� I heard him say. If it weren�t that dark I�m sure I would give him that incredulous look. I stayed put on the couch.
�I have to go home.� I told him and began getting up. Suddenly he grabbed me and pushed me down on the couch. His hands started undoing my pants. I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which lucky for him was an empty coke bottle and slammed it on his head. Before he could respond I pushed him off and stormed out of the apartment. Now few minutes later, I only regret one thing. Not going to Peter and telling him to shoot him.
I wonder why I stay around for such things but then I realize I just want to see how far I can be pushed. Each time, my limit gets smaller.