Cigarettes and Coffee

One of my all time favorite love songs is "Cigarettes and Coffee" by Otis Redding. It isn't particularly noteworthy, which is what makes it so special. He doesn't sing of her beauty, or her brains, or her charm. The song is about how wonderful it is to be able to just sit with someone you love, doing nothing.

I have been thinking a lot about love lately. I suppose I always do. While I think I (and everyone, really) am constantly on the lookout for a partner, this is the first time in a long time that I feel like I could actually have one. The problem is, I don't know if I deserve one.

Allow me to explain.

I am difficult to be with. I do not open up willingly. I take coaxing, cajoling, pleading, and any manner of reassurance in order to actually let down my guard. Until then, it's all self-deprecating jokes, deflective questions. I have spent time on these walls. They are good walls. And in the past, when they have been breached, the carnage has been total. I need to find someone who is willing to take some time and deconstruct, brick by brick, that which I have built. I have found that people are not so willing.

I wonder sometimes if maybe I have changed so dramatically in the last 7 years. Because it seems like people are less interested in getting to know you anymore. Of course, it doesn't help that my sexual proclivity seems to hamper any attempt at communication on a deeper level.

Last week my neighbor (and the closest thing I have to a friend here) invited me to an all day punk rock show at a seedy little bar downtown (think the Buffet. It was a neat place). He was doing the sound, and was able to get me in for free. I rolled in about ten-ish. I sat making random conversation with people both in and outside. Mostly I was being shy. I had one drink, but it was a comp and I didn't feel like spending any of my neighbor's money, even though he offered. I ended up spending most of the evening talking to some guys from Boston, who's band had played the show (I missed it. Don't know if they're any good. I'd assume so). There was one in particular who was very sweet, and as the night wound down I was invited back to the house where they were staying for drinks and conversation. Long story short (too late, I know), I ended up making out with the sweet one later that night. I specifically said, "I can't have sex with you, I have to stop sleeping with strange men." We agreed not to have sex.

We had sex.

I'm an idiot.


This time was a bit different though. I wasn't completely wasted, and I didn't do it because I thought I had to, but because I wanted to.
Still, it was the wrong decision.

I have spoken to him once or twice via the internet, but I'm really no good over the internet. I'm all wild hand gestures and silly faces. I am an in-person person. Internet communication is not my forte, unless you already know me pretty well.
  I would say "shy," but that's really the wrong word. Self-conscious is more like it.

I was talking to my therapist about another hookup I had a few weeks ago (ugh, I know. Old habits die hard. But I'm working on it!). This one I left while he was asleep, without leaving my number. She suggested I leave a note for him with my number, apologizing. Last week, she asked me if I had done just that.

"No," I said.

"But what if he liked you?" she responded.

"They usually...don't."

But I don't know that, because I am too afraid to find out. I just assume that I was fun for a bit and life returns to normal the next day. I could not possibly hold any interest for anyone. Short, chubby, overly long faced, know-it-all.

These are the things that go through my head.

(In an interesting twist of fate, the next guy I slept with left in the middle of the night without telling me. Instant karma. Total suckerpunch. I will never do that to someone again.)
(If you're keeping count that is three (3) people I have had sex with in the last four weeks. :/)

I am afraid that I will never find someone who wants to tear down the walls if I just keep having sex with people. Because what is the point of getting to know me after that? Right?

But that isn't even important. Not right now, at least.

I just want someone to have cigarettes and coffee with.

(Well, I'll have chamomile tea. Not coffee.)





 All this relates back to some work I've been doing recently. Elaboration later.



Personal enough for you? I've decided I don't care. I am going to let it all out.