The Artist — The Apology

Yesterday I decided to apologize for my brash behavior. There's really no reason for yelling or arguing—we've known each other for a total of 8 days. I can think clearly since I now know I shouldn't have expected anything from him.

I send an email instead of a text. An email is still informal but I believe it's more serious than a text apology. I also like my gmail avatar picture. 

"I'm getting you on the horn right now to apologize for my wild behavior the other night. I shouldn't have been so mean to you in front of your friends.. It's pretty embarrassing and I feel badly for my antics. I mean, we barely know each other so I shouldn't have yelled at you. So, with that, I hope if we run into each other things can be light and fun."

A mutual friend of ours told me to keep it simple so I did. A big part of me didn't want to apologize because I still disagree with his wanting to "flirt without consequence" and I still really don't understand what that means among other things.. But I'm trying to change. And there are still things that I can apologize for.

I don't know how often he checks his email. I'm constantly checking mine. In that way I'm sure we are different. He hasn't written back. It's been 14 hours. Maybe he ever will. I have to accept it. I hate doing that.

The Artist — Part 3 continued, The Other Morning

I wake up. His body entangled into mine. My head is exploding with pain. I can still taste the whiskey. I remember the yelling and the crying from the night before.. But barely. I find my phone.. Screen shattered into microscopic pieces. It's 8 am–I go back to sleep.

He moved to get a sip of water. We embrace. But the mood is different. The morning light not shining quite like it did our first morning together. I can feel something is different. A lot of things happened the night before. He's probably over whelmed. Annoyed even. If he wasn't scared of me then he definitely thinks I'm crazy. We sleep.

Our phones both ringing in the background makes us shift. He starts to hold me tighter. Hands roaming. Exploring bodies that now feel familiar. He starts to kiss my neck. I press my body against his and I reach for him. These are my favorite types of mornings.

We kiss. We touch. I go down on him. I'm enjoying this. I'm prolonging it. I want him to be more forceful but he his gentle. Either he's not comfortable yet or it's just his nature. I want him to feel good. He touches my breast softly. He finishes and I climb up to his body to rest my head in the nook under his chin. I kiss his neck. He reaches down to the split of my legs and finds me. Unlike our first night together I let him touch me this time. With slow quiet moans–I express wanting to fuck him. He tells me he doesn't want to right now. He kisses my neck. I don't know how to feel. I fake finishing. We sleep.

It's noon now and I'm staring at his walls. They don't look as magical as they did a couple days ago. His room doesn't feel as welcoming. I feel like an intruder. He wakes up and asks if I want coffee. I can here him in the kitchen grinding the coffee beans.. He doesn't ask how I like my coffee–he brings it to me black. I ask for milk and he assumes I want sugar as well. He comes back in and we chat a bit. I can tell he wants to go outside to smoke so I tell him I won't think it's rude if he wants to go outside. I take that moment to gather my things and get dressed. I wash my face in the bathroom and try to make myself look decent. I look surprisingly refreshing.

He comes back in. We chat. He asks what my plans are for the day. To me this is saying.. When are are you leaving. We chat. We talk about families. We laugh a bit. Make little jokes. He's not trying to keep me here like last time. I'm texting a friend frantically to meet me at the Philz around the corner so I can leave and not wander around aimlessly. We go to the front porch. Somehow my boyfriend comes up again. I get up, we hug, and I leave. My ego wounded.

How was this so different? Did I fuck up? But I'm not the only who did. My feelings are crushed. I felt so differently about this person a week ago. I realize that if I'm going to be single and break up with my boyfriend this is what I'm going to have to deal with. I'd forgotten about the game. But I also thought he wasn't a participater of the game. His whole "thing" was about being genuine and honest and sincere. But he, in fact, is the same. I forgot that guys will be guys and people don't just meet amazingly interesting people by coincidence. I feel like Tom from 500 Days of Summer. I feel crushed.

The Artist — Part 3, The Bar

On Friday I go to the outer mission with my friend Paul. A gay San Francisco resident who I've grown close to. He's a mix of Janet Jackson and Blanch from The Golden Girls. We arrive in our Uber and the first person I see is the Artist.. Outside smoking his usual hand rolled cigarette talking to a girl. 

 I am not someone who will walk up to a guy to announce my arrival. And since he didn't notice me walking up to the bar my initial reaction is to be annoyed. And that is what set the tone of my mood for the rest of the night.

Paul and I go inside. We meet our friend T and her boyfriend who's also doing a DJ set. We drink, catch up and have our usual bitchy banter and laughs. The artist finally realizes I've arrived. We greet each other awkwardly because I'm already sitting down. Am I supposed to get up and hug him? He can come up to me. I can feel all the eyes of our company watching us interact. He tells me I look nice. He's so cute. Even though he's in his thirties he has this boyish charm about him. His smile is honest and real. He talks to someone else.

As the night goes on he barely pays any attention to me. I mean, I get it, all your friends are here to support you you have to talk to everyone. But I didn't come all the way out to the outer mission to some bar I never frequent to be ignored. I drink more, I get more annoyed and more sassy. He goes outside to smoke and I join him for air. This is the first time we chat privately of the night. He asks me how I am we have small talk. However, it feels forced and he looks nervous and intimidated. I can't tell if this is his way of showing he's nervous or if he feels scared. The first night we ever met I told him I thought he was scared of me. I can be intense and very straight forward when I want to be. He tells me no. I tell him I feel like he hasn't paid any attention to me. We also talk about how he doesn't like to text because he values actual communication. I can feel my eyes start to squint at him. He then says, "I mean, I'd like to flirt with out consequence." 


What the fuck does that mean I thought to myself. Flirt without consequence. Why flirt then? If he's using it in the normal context like I consider flirting. And does he mean flirting with me or does he mean he wants to flirt with everyone? Does flirting mean flirting to him or does it mean friendly chatting with friends. I feel like since he's an "artist" our lingo doesn't match one another and we're often lost in translation. He then tells me he wants things to be casual. I can feel the rejection coming on to me.. All I can hear is that he wants to flirt and mess around with me but he also wants to talk to other girls too.. 

So then I blurt it out before thinking.. "I AM keeping it casual I have a boyfriend."

I don't think I'll forget the way his face looked when I said that. The rest of the night at the bar is a blurry black memory with flashes of images and moments of arguing, laughing, yelling, and trying to get each others attention. It's last call and he asks if I'm going home with him with his cheeky smile. I agree. I don't know why he wants me to come over, everyone watched me be so mean to him. Yell at him. I don't know why I agreed.

We get to his place. We make out. He tells me I'm biting him too hard. I pull away irritated. We argue. I think we argued on the walk back. We lay in bed and argue more and talk about me having a boyfriend. He brings it up. I pore my feelings out about being stuck in a relationship with someone that I don't feel like I'm ready for. I get emotional. I explain to him that normally I wouldn't have told him about my boyfriend but I wanted to be honest with him because of this strange connection that I feel. I tell him he's one of the most interesting people I've met in a long time. I tell him how refreshing he is because everyone else is absolutely boring and he's not boring. I tell him that other men have wanted to spend time with me while my boyfriend has been away and how I've always declined and never thought about it because before him I'd never wanted to get to know someone more. I was a good girlfriend. He wraps his body around mine, brushing my hair out of my face and we fall asleep.