WIND WHIPPED around the wooden walls, I couldn't feel it but I could hear it and somehow that made being tucked up inside all the more cosy.
I lay beneath my blanket, my phones safaris doing a deep dive into the FreeBritney movement when Arlo pulled on the door getting caught in a draught.
I could already sense his nerves, they radiated from him in fumes. His posture was held tense and he kept toying with his lower lip. He glanced over at Lexis bedside table and I knew he was contemplating taking his anti anxiety medication.
"Hey." He said quietly, fidgeting with a lone thread hanging from the pocket of his Levi's. "Can I join you?" He looked at the space next to me and I nodded my head granting him access.
He kicked off his Nike Jordan's and booted them into the corner then climbed in, joining me beneath the covers.
"I'm still mad at you." I pointed out.
"I know, you should be." I clicked my phone locked and placed it on the bedside table. Then I snuggled down, resting my head on the pillow and laying on my side to face him.
He pulled the blankets over our heads, enclosing us inside our safety net then nodded to himself. "So I guess I have some explaining to do?"
Silence fell upon us, he kept trying to say something but the words wouldn't come out. He sucked in a bated breath before exhaling it deeply. "Wow, this is really hard to actually say out loud."
Right in front of me his eyes became glossy, like two shiny maroon marbles twinkling in the light. He dabbed at his under eye with his sleeve and blew out another shaky breath.
"Wow, I'm sorry. I never expected to feel like this, I didn't think it affected me this much."
I knew what he wanted to tell me, his subconscious had already told me against his will. But part of me wanted to hear it from him, awake and sound of mind. He laughed sadly to himself and raspberried out his lips.
"I'm being such a pussy, I'm sorry. I don't think I've ever admitted it before, not to myself, not to anyone but I guess on some level it actually really bothers me." He put his hands over his face, wiping over his eyes and breathed deeply into his hands.
"You don't have to tell me." I caressed his arm and he dropped his hand.
"I do. I want to. I need you to know." He closed his eyes, gave himself a few seconds to regather his strength and when he reopened them he seemed stronger.
"Lola told me that often people who have bipolar disorder are highly sexually active. Puberty triggered my disorder, the worst possible time with hormones flying everywhere, right?"
"I guess."
"I became so hyper focused on not triggering hyper sexuality in myself. I researched like crazy, I took hour long therapy sessions weekly just to talk about my dick. I rubbed one out so many times every day just so that I got it out of my system. I jerked off until I got sore. But in doing that I also developed a phobia; sex."
"You're scared of sex?"
"Terrified! Not of the physical act of sex. Like when I think about having sex with you, I know it would be so easy. I would be fearless because that sex would be something that I wanted to do not something that someone I barely know is doing to me when I have no control over myself.
And I'm scared about afterwards, what it does to me. Like, what if I enjoyed it so much it kick started that hyper sexuality within me? I don't want to be the guy who sleeps with everyone. I don't want to have multiple partners in one night. I don't want to have multiple partners at the same time.
So I avoided having sex, consciously. Subconsciously, though? I have no fucking clue."
"Arlo" I said softly, seeing the struggle behind his eyes and how hard he was finding this to talk about. "You know you told me this before?"
"I did?" I nodded and those little bumps appeared on his forehead. Feeling safe beneath the blankets I leaned forward and kissed away his troubled thoughts. "You never mentioned that I had told you."
"I figured it was private, that I wasn't meant to know. If you wanted me to know then you'd tell me while you were awake."
"Don't keep secrets with my subconscious Blossom, I don't know if he's a nice guy... I've never met him." He wore a small smile on his lips "but honestly, you knowing private things about me feels... I don't know... unnerving. I'd rather know that you know them."
"Okay." I chewed my lower lip. He also told me that he loves me. But to bring that up right now would just be awkward.
"What? What else did I say?" He looked frustrated with himself, or betrayed by himself I'm not sure which one. Maybe both.
"Nothing." I lied.
"Anyway, I got so obsessed with not wanting to have sex that I broke myself. Even awake, conscious and sound of mind I didn't want to do it because I convinced myself that would open a door I could never shut. Sex for me felt like a really vulnerable thing. I needed to lose my virginity to someone I had feelings for. Someone I trusted, knew well and was committed to.
Meanwhile the people I went to school with grew up, went through puberty themselves. They started to notice me. I started to notice them. And suddenly, high school happened. Everyone's sex life was under speculation.
My life back then wasn't as... controlled as it is now. I was newly diagnosed, trying to find medication that worked for me.
I had episodes frequently. I've always had the sleep disorder but when the bipolar kicked in it got a thousand times worse. My parents didn't know how to parent a bipolar kid, so they tried to keep things normal. I would go to sleepovers with my friends, overnight parties, camping, nobody could tell the difference between medicated Arlo and manic Arlo. It was chaotic and exhausting.
It didn't take long before the rumours started flying. I hooked up with her here. I hooked up with him there. We did this. We did that. But I had no recollection of any of it. So here I was, awkwardly young, terrified of having sex and getting told about my random hook ups by strangers.
I felt violated and I didn't know who to blame so I just blamed myself. Nobody knew I was bipolar. They didn't know I had a sleep disorder. They didn't take advantage of me because I was probably up for it. But it didn't stop me from being trapped in this grey area between consent and assault."
"Arlo, I'm sorry. I held his hand and brought it to my lips, kissing his knuckles softly under the covers."
"For a while it messed me up, every time someone said I had hooked up with them, I felt like I had been assaulted. But eventually I adapted to it, found a defence mechanism that works.
I discovered the art of flirting, I mean, I knew people were into me but flirting with them made it all seem okay. Like this is who I am. I flirt. I hook up. I have fun. And on some level it is who I am, I love to flirt.
I love people finding me attractive and I love playing up to that because it gives them a confidence boost too. But there's a line that I never wanted to cross and sometimes that line gets blurred until it's no longer visible and I'm not okay with that, I just pretend to be.
As far as I know, I've never had sex with anyone. The night you were drunk and we got into it, I was really nervous. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go that far because I don't think I have ever gone that far before.
I only agreed because...well... it was you. Then you turned out to be drunk and it honestly fucked with me because I did to you exactly what I was living through myself. I put you in that grey area."
"I put myself there. I purposely didn't let you find out I had been drinking that was my fault."
"But you felt violated, right? Betrayed? Taken advantage of?"
"Well yeah, but -"
"And then you placed all the blame on yourself because how could I have known? I should've known Blossom. I should've fucking known."
"Arlo-"
"Now imagine that feeling except when you wake up you have no idea what happened or who with. You know how many times I've woken up naked in some random place and then the next morning heard about how I hooked up with someone and they're telling everyone I spanked her or strangled her and she loved it?
But I'm a virgin, I doubt I'd even be comfortable doing those things straight away, if at all. Or then there's the people who say we hooked up and I was really bad in bed and my self esteem plummets because I have no idea what I did wrong because I just don't remember."
"This makes me feel even worse about spreading the stupid rumour that we hooked up. I'm so sorry Arlo."
"At least I could confront you about it. With them I couldn't. With each story that I didn't deny a new one was added. And the inconsistencies piled up. That's when I realised, not everyone was telling the truth. So I got Pinocchio.
I wanted to catch out all the liars and there were a fucking lot. When someone said they had hooked up with me I would somehow get them to tell me what I had down there and when they couldn't I knew they were lying.
I stopped sleeping out and if I was staying out late I'd purposely overdose on stimulants just so I didn't fall asleep. I made my mom and dad put bolts on my door and lock me in at night, which at first they thought was inhumane but then I ended up in hospital because I jumped off a bridge. Or that time I flew to Germany so I could pay my respects to the World War Two victims in person.
Coming here was a risk for me and I lied to you about Carlton because it was easier than admitting what I thought really happened.
It was easier than saying we fucked, but it wasn't consensual. It was easier than admitting to you that I've never consented to sex in my life, but also I don't know if I'm a Virgin and I hate that but it is what it is and there's nothing I can do about it."
I slipped my hand into his. "It's okay, I understand. I got you Arlo, I got you."