sonofabitch, oxytocin be damned!
i woke up at 1pm today. after sleeping for a. day. and. a. half. no joke.
despite all of my good intentions, i was partying until the wee hours of saturday morning. a big group went out for a friend’s birthday. it was industrial night, and all the freaks were out. i felt right at home.
there was marilyn manson’s twin. and the guy with the gas mask. and women dressed to the nines for goth theater.
a big crew was there. including the graduate student, “amanda”, i described in this story. yeah, her and her really tall, really good looking brother.
fuck my life.
it turns out, he’s my type. tall. good looking. kind of a dick. so i tried to avoid him. i had a little team of helpers to keep me away from him, friends who i’d asked that under no circumstances was i to hook up with this dude.
i did a decent job for most of the night, even into the afterparty where there were fewer distractions and ways to avoid him. finally, i went to the guest bedroom to sleep. i could hear my helper team articulating very clearly that he could stay over…on the COUCH.
some time passed. everyone went to their respective rooms, or couches as the case may be. it got quiet. then there was a shuffle. steps. a door whooshed open and he said, “the couch is really uncomfortable”. i didn’t skip a beat: “you can come in here”.
so, he did. and we stayed up, talking. he talked a lot about being lonely and having no friends out here. he spent a lot of time wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me close to him. i was counting the seconds because i knew after 30 of them had passed, my brain was producing oxytocin and i’d be damned.
oxytocin. the bonding hormone. affection hormone. trust hormone. my arch enemy in this particular situation.
and besides that, like i said, he was right up my alley. so i was literally drowning in sex hormones. i was so turned on i wanted to cry. and i was drunk. and he was saying things like, “i can go down on you if you want…”.
it took everything i had not to respond physically. i did not face him under any circumstances. i kept my body, my hips, absolutely still. i didn’t reach back, like i wanted to, and grab his hair, or pull his body close. several times, i had to bury my head in the pillows and sheets and wait for the dizziness from my libido to pass.
somehow, i withstood it all. the attraction. the hormones. the “you’re beautifuls” and the stroking and squeezing…all of it.
but i woke up several hours later, and he was there, sleeping. but not holding me. and i was disappointed. i had to leave. and forget.
except i haven’t yet. my body and brain are still experiencing the ecstasy of the moment. i couldn’t have picked a more dangerous, less accessible person. but i’m not responding to reason, i’m responding to biology.
biology is just so much more persuasive.