Shit is weird.
“i’m glad about you”
“have i made it clear yet that i’m kind of presently in love with you?”
“i love you too, Naomi”
we had sex today.
and it was…. incredible? amazing? perfectly imperfect with all the small messups that came about?
(like wasting 2 condoms because he was too eager and tried to put them on while he wasn’t fully hard)
also can we talk about how like, weird it is being naked with someone else in a sexual way?
like at one point all i could think was “look at this dumb boy with his monkey body”
i mean i’m sure i didn’t look much better. arms and legs just kinda, hanging around.
i dont know.
i think the weirdest thing though was just looking at him looking back at me while he fucked me and thinking about how like… “i am currently having sex with arguably my best friend.”
that was a bit of a strange thought.
I mean dont get me wrong the sex was REALLY GOOD. he is really good at sex. like, really really good. (it probably helps that my vagina is extremely sensitive and i came according to him like 6 times but still.)
it was just strange. like i’ve known this kid since 7th grade. and we’ve had an on and off friendship ever since then. which included periods of time scattered about where i liked him, yeah, but it’s still strange. being fucked by a guy you’ve known since they were like 12. and were still a dumb boy. he still is a dumb boy, but he’s just grown up a lot.
but he’s still just like…. my best friend.
and i feel like maybe i don’t actually love him the way i thought i might or the way that i want to or maybe the way he would like me to.
but i definitely still love him. in some way or another. and i definitely still like having sex with him. even though if i think about it too much it weirds me out for a bit. and i still just really like being with him. and giving him little pecks on the lips and forehead and cheek and hands. and his penis.
and maybe love doesn’t have to be this big, complicated thing. Maybe i can just love simply. Maybe the only and the best way that I can love someone else is just in a simple way. Maybe it doesn’t have to be all consuming and all encompassing daunting thing. Maybe it can just be simple. Maybe all loving someone romantically for me means that I can’t fully push them out of my head during the day. That I just want to know if they had a good day and what I can do to make it better if it wasn’t good.
I think the biggest thing I’ve realized from his reluctance to share his feelings sometimes is just that I don’t need him to love me back. I don’t really think I need anyone to love me back. Because it’s not like it would necessarily change how I felt about him if he didn’t. I’d still love him. In my own weird, confusing way.
Maybe being in love with someone can really just be as simple as,
“I’m glad about you.”
I’m glad about you too, Doug.