Monday, September 24, 2012

Just To Fool Myself, To Catch Myself, To Make It Real



From that moment Kori and I were pretty inseparable.  Aside from the fact that I found her really attractive, she was goofy and a little off.  Our personalities really meshed and I loved being around her.  I loved watching her paint, the way I could see the pictures forming in her head before the brushes ever touched canvas.  She was always screwing the sides of her mouth up and cocking her head like a parrot as she was lost in thought.  Plus I could just be silly around her, which was a nice relief after days of trying to preen and pretend that I was mature and together.  She didn’t care about that shit.  The Fine Arts building backed up to a creek that ran through the entire campus, right at the end where it flowed into the Fox River.  The side door of the studios led out to a little gravel pathway and the creek.  It was dark and secluded, and when Kori was ready to take a break from her work we’d often go out and sit by the water.  The lack of lighting made it a great spot for a little innocent romance. 
Kori and I could talk about anything.  One night we were sitting in the grass on the side of a little hill and the subject of dinosaurs came up.  I’ve always had a fascination with dinosaurs.  Had I the brain and patience for it, I would have loved to have become a paleontologist.  But that’s a whole lot of school, as well as a lot of lonely time digging in the dirt.  For whatever reason, I was talking about how early scientists constructed the Tyrannosaurus Rex skeletons standing upright (I know how to sweep a lady off her feet!)  While I promise that night there was no alcohol or any other hallucinogenic involved, I somehow found myself demonstrating how a T-Rex really walked.  Thank God it was really dark out there.  I was hunched over, neck outstretched, elbows tucked in close, roaring and running along the riverside.  And Kori was laughing hysterically.  Rather than heading for zee hills, she was actually encouraging me to do more.  I’m pretty sure I fell in love with her that night.
I think from a spiritual perspective Kori and I were also in similar places.  We’d been raised to believe the same things, and we were trying.  But we also had the same doubts.  We’d also been damaged by divorce early in life, and other things.  Kori especially.  From time to time, when I wasn’t demonstrating the finer points of dinosaur hunting patterns, she would show me martial arts maneuvers.  Kori was studying karate.  While my fascination with dinosaurs stemmed from boyhood daydreams, her hobby was born of a very real, scary event.  The year before I’d come to Euphegenia, Kori was living off campus in her own apartment.  One night while she was sleeping, an intruder climbed into her second-story window and tried to assault her.  Fortunately, he picked the wrong chick to climb on top of.  She woke up alarmed, panicked, and proceeded to beat the shit out of him.  She swung, she punched, she kicked, and she clawed until he dove out the same second story window he’d come in through.  The story I heard from others was the police were able to grab him quickly due to the deep cuts scratched across his face.  After that event, Kori realizing she’d really just gotten lucky in her moment of panic decided that maybe some proper defense training was a good idea.  I admired her for it. 
In the beginning of our relationship we’d both agreed that we would adhere to the popular ideal of not going to too far physically.  Our Evangelical upbringings had gotten into our heads that much.  Sex is a major obsession in that community, but not in the same way it is in regular society.  Christians crave it, but therefore fear it and essentially outlaw it in many ways.  If two students were caught, or even reported, having premarital intercourse, they could be expelled.  For anyone who went to a State university, I’m sure that concept seems so ridiculous and foreign.  It is.   
The prohibition of premarital sexual activity on Christian campuses actually bleeds over (oozes and drips over I might say) into many of their other established rules for student activities.  Drinking was strictly verboten because drinking led to lowered inhibition, which surely they reasoned would lead to sex.  Clearly whoever thought that up had never heard of whiskey dick!  Organized dancing was also not allowed on campus.  Dancing led to closeness between the sexes, which led to touching, which lead to sex.  For people who are so opposed to sex outside of marriage, they sure thought about it an awful lot.  Fucking perverts!
I jest about their sexual obsession, and yet as a father I now understand it a little more.  I’d like my children to be chaste and live clean lives, but these days that’s more based on fear of disease or pregnancy.  But I really don’t want my kids to be hurt emotionally, and having sex with someone definitely opens you up to being blasted apart emotionally by the other person later.  It would seem more-so for girls, but not all guys are fuck happy poon hounds either.  We get hurt too, believe it or not.  I don’t want either of my kids to go through that.  That said I don’t really want some board summarily passing rules prohibiting them from making those choices for themselves.  As much as I’d like to prevent it, I know my kids will probably have sex one day.  I can’t really stop it.  And I confess I don’t know how I’ll react when I learn that they have.  Well, my son I’ll high-five and buy him a beer, but when it’s my daughters I assure you, I’ll be momentarily devastated as any good father would!
But this was a private school and therefore they were perfectly within their rights to set whatever rules they wished.  We had the choice to agree and attend, or protest and leave.  We opted to try assimilation.  Besides, there is something charming about saying you’re waiting until marriage.  Even an old perv like me can see something romantic and fairy tale like in that notion.  It asinine of course, but it’s cute.  So as the nights grew colder we kept warm in that old truck by wrapping up in old blankets and playing a little touch and tickle.  Nothing too inappropriate, but still hoping Jesus and the ghost of F. Shafer were averting their eyes.
Then there came a weekend when for one reason or another I was going home to Wisconsin.  My dad had informed they would actually be gone until Saturday night and I was heading up Friday so it seemed like a nice way for Kori and me to spend some alone time, away from school.  My intentions were mostly noble.  I had no real ulterior motive, I swear.  And it actually turned out she couldn’t come after all.  She had something going on that Friday I was leaving.  I believe Artemis was going home that weekend as well and I asked him if he could just make a quick detour off the highway and drop me off.  I even volunteered to drive.  Being blasé as he was about most things, he shrugged that it was fine.  It was now early winter and I remember it was snowing as we drove that Friday afternoon.  It was a bleak landscape.  I also remember Artemis falling asleep 10 minutes out of Elgin and decided to smoke a cigar.  It was a gift from our suite mate.  It made me chuckle that even with the radio on, the window open as snow and cold air blew in, and me puffing away on a stogie were still not enough to rouse him.  In recent years I have become a horrible sleeper.  I wouldn’t say I’m an insomniac, but I don’t sleep a lot.  A long night is 5 hours for me.  And once my eyes open, I’m awake.  Ironically I’m always tired but can’t ever fall back asleep.  Can’t seem to turn my brain off.  On Celebrity Rehab I once saw an actor detoxing who slept for nearly 48 hours straight after he stopped using.  I was so jealous.  Now I think back to my near-narcoleptic roommate and I am actually envious of his ability to sleep anywhere, through anything.
Fortunately that weekend, Kori had agreed to drive up after her thing that Friday night after all.  She would be getting in late though so I promised I’d stay up.  To pass the time, I had rented the first two Highlander movies.  I’m shaking my head and laughing at myself even now as I type.  I love to proclaim I’m not a sci-fi geek, and yet so far I’ve dropped Star Trek references and now Highlander!  For those who haven’t fully developed their nerd-radar (allow me to stop here and copyright the term “nerdar”) Highlander was a movie about a Scottish warrior (think Braveheart with a much smaller budget) who discovers he’s immortal.  Then cut to modern day, which for those reading now was about 30 years ago, where we learn immortals are all over the world.  Every time they encounter another, they have to engage in a sword fight (the medieval kind, not the locker room kind) until one cuts the others' head off.  The victor gets struck by lightning and apparently sucks up the dead one’s powers.  Yes, I know, it is as retarded as it sounds.  But Sean Connery is in it, and Queen did a killer concept album for the soundtrack so leave me alone! 
Actually, I always remember it was a favorite of my brother when I was a kid.  And that fall, the Fine Arts department threw a little Halloween party (although of course we could not call it as such) where the theme was movies.  Everyone was to dress as their favorite movie character.  Being of limited resources, I greased up my hair and went as Elvis from Jailhouse Rock.  Sadly I didn’t have a denim jacket or striped t-shirt.  What I did have was a black tee I’d picked up at Graceland of Elvis, circa the Jailhouse Rock time period.  I wore my sleeveless denim shirt over it (I loved that thing) and a pair of jeans.  We were all poor college kids; everybody understood a bit of imagination was required!  MaRek just threw on some of his Goth club wear and painted his face white and said he was a character from the Rocky Horror Picture Show that nobody had ever heard of, who was apparently in the background of the ballroom scene.  At least that was his fantasy when he masturbated to images of a young Tim Curry!  And who doesn't?!
The planning committee had gone out to a local video store and begged for a bunch of movie posters to decorate the lounge.  One of which was a poster for Highlander 2: The Quickening.  While I only had fuzzy memories of the first movie, other than the awesome soundtrack which as you know I had purchased earlier, I had no clue there was a sequel or what it was about.  All I know is the poster was bad ass!  It was a long shot of Christopher Lambert (the Highlander) and Sir Sean mother-fucking Connery (THE Highlander) standing back to back in these crazy costumes wielding swords.  Behind them was the backdrop of some futuristic looking city.  I immediately wished it was hanging beside my bed (let’s ignore that one Dr. Freud.)  I told Kori how much I loved that poster.  I don’t recall her being involved with the decorating but she may have been, or else she knew who was, because that night as we were walking back to the dorms, she handed me that rolled up poster!  She really was an awesome girlfriend! 
So that’s what sparked my interest in these random movies.  They gave me something to do while waiting for her to arrive that night.  For the record, the first one is a classic.  The second is possibly one of the worst train wrecks of a movie ever made and the best thing I can say about it is I hope Sean Connery bought a nice vacation house with his paycheck.  Fortunately Kori arrived shortly after it ended, and boy was I happy to see her and erase the memory of that cinematic tragedy!  I know we cuddled on the couch by candlelight a while, but we were still chaste (relatively.) 
The next day however, would prove to be a different story.  As the saying goes, idle hands lead to active genitals.  Kori slept in our spare room on a little trundle bed, and I stayed in my room.  I can’t remember what we did that day to preoccupy ourselves and not think too much about the fact we were alone together in an empty house.  In fact I don’t remember anything about that whole day except that the weather was dismal.  It was wet and cold and snowy outside.  I don't think we even left the house.  In the middle of the day, Kori went to the spare room to get something and I followed closely behind her.  At the risk of sounding like a Penthouse Forum letter, one thing led to another and suddenly we were rolling on the bed heavily making out.  In fact, those so-called letters were clearly the fictional creations of freelance novelists, because they called back every little detail of those erotic experiences.  I can’t remember any of the lead up from that cold winter afternoon.  Obviously our clothes didn’t just evaporate, but somehow at some point they were just gone.  We didn’t discuss it.  It wasn’t premeditated.  But at some point during the kissing, holding, and touching, that line we weren’t going to cross was very much crossed indeed.  I was on top of her, and then I was inside of her.  I looked into her eyes and asked if it was okay.  She said that it was.  That’s when I closed my eyes. 
I would love to say what q sweet, passionate, even momentous event it was.  Sadly, I cannot, and not because I lack the literary chops.  Although that could be said.  No the real issue is that it lasted all of about a minute, maybe two if I can be a braggart.  In my defense, this was the first time since my first time, and that had been three years prior.  Truth be told that time when I was 15 years old lasted longer.  It was also more passionate and loving.  It was a minute of pure bliss.  Well, it was for me.  Unfortunately, no sooner was it over then the guilt began to seep in.  That was how they got you.  They drilled your head so full of guilt about what an offense to our mighty God it was to commit adultery, which was what they categorized premarital sex as (after all God has one special soul mate picked out for each of us) that you couldn’t even enjoy the sin while it was happening.  Like binging on donuts and finding you can’t even taste them but are still absorbing the calories.  That's good fatty, bring it around to donuts.   
As soon as I finished, I felt like I’d just stomped a kitten in front of an orphanage.  How could it be possible to go from feeling so good to so bad the moment your genitalia feel cool air again?  I wasn’t basking in the afterglow.  I felt ashamed and embarrassed.  That of course may have something to do with a less than impressive performance.  But no, it was much more about something else.  It was over a decade of religious dogma pounded into my subconscious.  I was able to block out those voices in the moments leading up to the act.  But as soon as the stars cleared out of my eyes, and something else cleared out of something else, there it was.  We’d done a terrible thing.  And I could see it her eyes too.  Kori just stared up at me with almost dead eyes.  I asked repeatedly if she was okay, and kissed her over and over again.  She kept saying she was, but I knew she was lying.  
I tried to cuddle with her and be an attentive boyfriend after sharing the most intimate of experiences, but it was useless.  She had turned cold and unresponsive.  Frustrated and embarrassed I just got up and put my clothes back on.  This was only making matters worse.  I felt like I’d done something awful to her.  That was, on top of damning my own soul to the fires of hell.  And the fact that she was actually adding to my guilt made me angry at her.  I can’t tell you what we did the rest of the day or that evening, but I know things grew pretty frosty between us.  Which is so the opposite of what should have been.  Instead of celebrating the intimacy we’d shared and counting it as a huge step in our relationship, we allowed it to create awkwardness.  We allowed the myths we’d been fed for so long to fester in our heads and the only way to cope was to turn the finger of blame on each other. 
Worst of all perhaps, we just didn’t discuss it.  I kept asking if she was alright about everything, and she only said yes.  Then the subject was quickly changed.  It was clear that we had made a huge mistake.  And not the act itself.  The fact that we did it when we just weren’t emotionally prepared to do it together.  I know we had a quiet ride back to school on Sunday morning in that pick-up truck.  We actually stopped at her mother’s house for dinner.  By that point we had both more or less just sort of blocked out the whole event.  Finally I remember at one point she came and sat down on the couch next to me and put her head on my shoulder and we just sort of leaned into each other.  It was as if to say this didn’t go how either of us planned, but let’s not take it out on each other.  We tried to do just that.  But no matter what, the event had changed things for us.  From that weekend on, we just stopped getting along the way we always had before. 
 

No comments:

Post a Comment