Knee-deep in Oxytocin

Subtle, I am not. July 16, 2009

Let me tell you now: I am not a very subtle person.

Even if I wanted to be, my face shows every detail of emotion I may be trying to hide, and my personal energy is WIDE open (I have no psychic boundaries, nor do I have any clue how to create them; forgive me for departing from the realm of science, but psychic energy is I believe merely a manifestation of the electrical/chemical forces/communication between systems within and between bodies. I do not believe in “seeing the future” or things like that.)–good and bad in a way. I suppose this explains why I tend to be very approachable and personable, and why complete strangers too often pick me out of a crowd to ask for help or directions, or to tell their life’s story… or to say creepy things to. This can be somewhat of a detriment to my own health, however, because being so open causes me to be susceptible to others’ emotions, and my caring nature leads me to care and worry intensely upon sensing discontent. Not only that, but it is often the case that anything I am thinking or feeling is shown on my face, posture, and overall energetic vibe no matter how well I believe I may be hiding it. I am, quite literally, an open book.

Because of this, I will often do things purposely to counteract and contradict my feelings. I have never had good luck with boys, probably because in my fear of social interactivity I can come off as standoff-ish. Well, this I used to be. After my breakdown last summer I emerged a more outgoing, less afraid, less ashamed person. So open I am.

Going back to the night of my drunken laying on said sober friend, I had the “horny” vibe screaming from every fiber of my body. I wanted to (sloppily) move a hand towards his crotch, and he apparently caught that. He wanted to do me as well, but being the nice guy knowing I was drunk, he refrained. However, it was at this moment that the proximity had arisen.

Proximity. A word we both use to refer to the magnetism we feel when we’re within touching distance of one another. Standing several feet apart, we are in the so-called “friend zone”, but any closer and something interesting happens; the hairs on our arms and necks stand on end as if attracted by a staticked balloon, and a jolt of what one can only describe as electricity courses from the affected skin to the brain and back. It’s enough to cause us to stop what we’re doing and take a glance in each other’s direction. A very curious phenomena that neither of us is able to explain in any way other than simply stating, “It’s there,” and that the force is like a magnet tugging at our skin, saying, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, HEY! This person’s right next to you; DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

So, while nothing happened that first night, neither of us can deny that we felt the effects of Proximity. Was it the mixing of pheremones in a potent witch’s brew? The fact that both of us had been sex-less for so long? A combination? Or was it simply two people that happened to be in the right place at the right time? Either way, something was mutually felt that night, and the next day the feelings were stronger.

It was like a raging thunderstorm that neither of us wanted to admit existed. On the subway we looked in opposite directions so as not to let the other know what we were thinking. I could literally feel my aura burning and popping like a bright and violent bonfire, the static raising my armhairs into goosebumps and quickening my heart, causing me to take short, swift breaths and clench my jaw in defiance.

It took absolutely everything within me to ignore the Proximity that day. Out in public, it was easier; I could at least try to distract myself by focusing on something or someone else. Once alone, however… distraction became an impossibility. The Proximity was there, it was magnetic, and there was absolutely no denying its presence. It became further and further enhanced as the awkward silences lengthened, until my body started to tremble and the pheremones were being expelled in buckets.

He later told me I could not have been more obvious if I’d had a megaphone to his ear.

I did what any other girl would have done in that situation: I stared at the wall and stated, quite matter-of-factly, that I needed to go home and take a cold shower. I fidgeted. Clenched jaw. Bit fingernails. I looked at him; he was grinning. It was an interesting facial expression, actually. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but even as he knew this I could see the angel and devil in his mind wrestling for victory–should he or should he not? Was it really such a good idea to enter into a sexual relationship with a casual friend? He looked up at the ceiling and back at me again. Up, back. Several times this was repeated as his angel and devil wrestled. His eyes went glassy like a puppy-dog’s as his face contorted with the torment of decision-making. I stared at the wall. Silence. I looked again at the face.

The devil won.

In an instant he swooped in to kiss me. I hesitated–it was now my angel’s turn to fight… but the devil had her K.O.’d in about five seconds. I kissed him once again, paused, and said, “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

We bolted. I have never experienced such urgency in the act of sex. As soon as the door was shut, the clothes were off, foreplay be damned, intercourse had begun. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. Adventurous. Ferocious, like a tigress. It was entirely carnal, and that was exactly what both of us needed. I had never felt such rigorous, carnal, heat-of-the-moment passion before, and it was positively exhilarating.

The act itself didn’t last long, but neither of us was in it for the marathon. We wanted instant gratification, instant satisfaction, and that was exactly what we received. Clothes went back on and he went out to have a cigarette. I followed, and as I did so I could feel my entire body beaming with the satisfaction of finally, finally releasing itself of a year’s worth of tension and frustration.

I went home that night feeling refreshed and relaxed, grinning from ear to ear. We planned to meet again the next day…