Friends W/ Bennies Part Deux

A couple weeks back, I wrote a blog about sleeping w/ my best guy friend and my worries over it affecting our friendship.  I was and still am under the impression that we're JUST friends, but the last few encounters have started to make me nervous as to where he stands. The saga conitues... 

I had just gotten back in town and obviously needed some itches scratched.  Steve was excited to have his bestie back in town and I was on my way over.  It was the kind of hot out where New Yorkers just accept that they will be damp w/ sweat for the majorty of the day.  I had other things on my mind, but Steve always knew how to make me smile and laugh at it all so I was just as excited to see him and well, of course there was the sex part too.  I'd been getting the best of both worlds so I had absolutely no problems with the situation.  

I reached Steve's new apartment and met his new roommate.  I chuckled to myself as introductions were passed out.  He didn't know it, but he'd be getting an ear full from me most likely. Eventually, he excused himself to his room, making a big deal of grabbing his earphones. Maybe he already knew what was going on with me and Steve. Hmph.  I don't know why, but I'm still slightly surprised that guys talk just as much as we do...maybe more.

Fast forward to Steve's bedroom.  Music playing from his mac, moans coming from his mack. I could go into major detail here, but it isn't that kind of blog.  Let's just say, its just how B likes it.  Post-coital, we're laying in bed, talking, transitioning back to our usual friend-ish conversations when this old 112 song begins.  

"Oh! I love this song!" I exclaim happily remembering college memories associated with the song.

"Let's dance," Steve says.  Huh?  I started laughing because he can't be serious.  He is and he states that fact, asking me to dance again.

"Come on," he chides as he gets up off the bed and holds his hand out.  "Dance with me."  The way he says it is so sincere.  It seems like it's laced with a lot of other things.  There's no way I can say no, so I get up and enter his embrace yet again.  This feels different, though.  Dancing naked horizontally is one thing.  Dancing naked vertically is another.

Steve is holding on tightly, kissing my neck, my forhead, my lips, and face.  Rubbing my back and caressing my butt.  Cupid doesn't lie, but you won't know unless you give it a try...

And suddenly, I'm very uncomfortable.  What the hell is going here?  I have never ever had a cut buddy like this. Not even with my guy friends from college who I may or may not have made out with or slept with over the years. This. Is. Odd.  This. Is. Freaking. Me. Out.  How do can a person "stay in their lane" when they're swerving all over the highway.

And as if on cue, the song ends and Steve thanks me for dancing with him and we crawl back into bed to talk more.  I am distant, I am lost in a world with endless questions, but the most forefront being: have we crossed some imaginary line.  I'd say yes, yes we have.  I am not entirely sure what that means, but I know that I'm perhaps more confused than ever.  There was a time that Steve and I were interested in each other in a romantic way.  It didn't work out and it's safe to say that he's one of the few people that hurt my heart in some ways.  But now, things are different.  I like who Steve is to me now.  I love that he nurses my hangovers and broken hearts.  I love that he knows every inch of me and still loves me.  He knows my weaknesses and helps me see them alongside my strengths.  He is one of my best friends for a reason and now I think that could be lost either way.

It's eerily quiet in his bedroom.  I ask Steve if he's okay.  Somethings up with the energy in here.

He laughs.  "Can you tell I'm a little off?"  I murmur some sort of response.  "I remember the guy I used to be and it's so different from the guy I am now.  I've changed a lot.  I'm not just trying to get with girls anymore."

"Oh."  I don't really know what else to say.  We're quiet for a while and then I blurt.  "So, you don't want to do this anymore? You know, so you can go and do your thing?"  I'm not sure why I say the things I say, but I learned long ago that I have certain defense mechanisms and perhaps this is one of them: getting to the punch before someone else can, so I can keep the control.  

"What?  No!" Steve blurts out.  "Hold up. Is that what you want?"  Maybe, Steve has some defense mechanisms of his own.

"No, I just wasn't sure what you were saying."  This conversation couldn't be more...I don't know if there's a word in the dictionary for this conversation yet.

"Right. Yea."  Steve says and that's kind of how the conversation ends.  Yes, ambiguity express, here we come.  I don't know what it means, but I also don't want to figure it out.  I haven't got the patience or the desire to.  Some questions are just left unanswered...at least for the time being.  I flip on my signal and get back in my lane.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins