Dreams

January

2) REAL

I'm not sure what I've been doing at this party, but I'm hoping it's not something that I'll be regretting tomorrow morning when I'm sober. Usually that's the case.

What is it that I've been doing? Kissing a boy. We met tonight for the first time after talking for almost two months, whilst I was dating my ex, who ended up breaking up with me because of distance. He lives an hour away. I was more relieved than anything when we split. It meant I had freedom. Freedom to meet new guys whenever the hell I wanted and not feel forced to be in a relationship that was neither beneficial for my sex life no my mental stability. Especially when I only saw my ex once a week at most.

So here we are, me and this boy, Daniel, kissing in the bathroom stall of a fancy harbour restaurant while the music from the party is still reverberating through the wooden door, which is currently being pressured by both mine and Daniel's body weights. I've got him pressed up against it, touching each other in every possible way we can in as little time as we can without bursting from the sheer ecstasy of finally meeting each other in person. We've both gotten too aroused to keep our pants on, so we end up agreeing to leave the bathroom before we have sex, but we don't say any of this in words to each other - it was more of a mutual understanding. I'm too drunk to remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure my hand was in his pants. That's all that I can think of as we tumble out of the stall into the flashing lights of the dance floor, and without hesitation, wrap our arms around each other's necks, waists. Entangled in limbs and hair and eyes - Daniel's eyes search mine, a smile playing on his lips while I do my best not to kiss him in front of the birthday girl's homophobic parents who decided to chaperone this event. It's too bad, because I can tell from the sad yet dreamy eyes he's giving my mouth that he's thinking the exact same thing.

We move our hips in motion to the beat, pressing out bodies as tightly together as we can without looking like we're dry humping in front of everyone. His smile is intoxicating, and I could look into those eyes forever, our foreheads together, our hands interwoven, our bodies against each other, talking about anything. We understand each other in so many ways, ways that I've never felt with someone else before. We have similar backgrounds, similar families, an approach to life that is influenced by Christianity and self-hate. That connection, the unspoken one, is why I can look into his green eyes which are surrounded by blonde curls without feeling the slightest bit awkward.

We stay like that for a few minutes, maybe ten, just moving with each other around the section of the room for the dancers, ignoring everyone around us. Knowing that this may very well be the last time we see each other until after Matriculating. And then...and then it'll be watching sunsets together, running together, swimming together, partying, talking about things to each other in a way that few other people would ever be able to understand. Except that now we don't say anything, because the connection of our eyes like this while we're both drunk and there's music..it's a perfect moment.

A moment that I relieve for the next month after seeing Daniel. Not because I stopped thinking of him after a month, but because it's only been a month since I saw him.