Status: Completed
Take A Picture (It'll Last Longer)
Seven Minutes in Heaven
So, there I was, on the couch, kissing Ben. Suddenly, it was like I was thirteen again and at Maria del Sol’s house, in the closet playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with Donny Frederickson. Donny was the resident hottie of our middle school, although none of us knew by the time we were all twenty he would be bald and in a committed relationship with Edmundo. It was so completely awkward, not the actual kissing part.
The actual kissing part was fantastic. Ben is an Olympic class kisser, though I’ve never found an appropriate moment to tell him so. No, the part that was awkward was the actual fact that I was kissing Ben. Ben. My best guy friend for the past five years. The guy I usually saw as an adopted older brother.
So, the entire time, I’m kissing him, my lips are think “Hells yeah!”, my heart is thinking “about time girlfriend”, my pants are thinking “take us off”, and my brain is screaming at me like crazy “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? THIS IS BEN! YOU’RE PHOTOGRAPHER! YOUR FRIEND! WHY ARE YOU KISSING THE ONLY GUY IN YOUR LIFE WHO YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY SCREWED UP A RELATIONSHIP WITH? WE ARE SO GOING TO A PSYCHIATRIST TOMORROW TO FIND OUT WHAT SORT OF CRAZY PERSON YOU ARE!”
Then my heart and my lips started telling my brain to shut up because it was interfering in everyone else’s good time and my pants were trying to figure out why I wasn’t taking them off yet. Then I realized that I was giving parts of my body human characteristics and wondered if my brain was right about me being totally and completely nutzo. I was about to concede to my brain and pull away from Ben, suggesting that everything we had just been doing, i.e. shoving our tongues down each other’s throats, was a big mistake because we were
a) bored
b) loosing it
c) starved for attention and affection from the opposite sex
d) in love but weren’t about to admit it or most likely
e) all of the above
Then Ben pulled away in a move that, needless to say, surprised me.
“Catt,” he said in a really strained voice, like he was, I don’t know, horny, “are you sure we should be doing this?” Then things started to change around and my brain started wondering when Ben became the girl in this relationship and why he all of a sudden was acting like he didn’t want inside my pants.
“Do you think we shouldn’t be doing this?” I asked him, not wanting to come out and say we shouldn’t because the whole should-we-or-shouldn’t-we-get-it-on-now-that-we’re-married question was starting to confuse me too.
“I don’t know,” Ben said, sounding a little bit more composed. “Do you?”
“We could go back and forth on this all day,” I pointed out.
“Why won’t you answer me?” Ben demanded to know.
“Why won’t you answer me?” I repeated in the same tone. Ben looked like he was about to get really angry with me and then just sighed a little. I thought he was going to get up from the couch, but he still had his arms around me.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked me, as if I had just told his most precious secret to half the world.
“What am I doing?” I asked him. I didn’t add that if my memory didn’t fail to serve me, I had just been full on making out with him on the couch a minute ago.
“Yeah,” Ben said, taking his hands off me completely. “One minute, you’re telling me that we shouldn’t screw up our friendship by making love and then you’re kissing me on the couch…”
“Ben…” I began, the realized I didn’t know what else to say after that.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, sinking back into the couch pillows.
“Well,” Ben said, getting up off the couch. “Tell me when you do.”
Ben got ready for bed and I was left there, sitting on the couch, having the biggest inner debate of my life. On one hand, I didn’t want to loose Ben by complicating our relationship but on the other hand, I might be complicating our relationship by not pursuing him. Not to mention that my pants were still wondering why I wasn’t taking them off. In addition to my fear of loosing Ben, this tiny voice in the back of my head was going on about “nothing venture, nothing gained” and how this might be my one chance at love and happiness and I was going to blow it by over-analyzing everything, like I always did.
Then the voice in the back of my head started to get louder. It was going on about how Ben had always been there for me, even when I least expected it or wanted it but always when I most needed it. And it was talking about how he was my best friend and if anything, I should be able to be happy with him. After all, every guy I’d ever gone out with before was a complete loser. Why, when the first decent guy I had ever befriended, was practically throwing himself at me was I so resistant to him? You’d think after all the heartbreak I’d actually want a safe guy that was good for me.
I was so confused that I realized I actually might need some outside help. I called up Elle, but she and Dirk were in the midst of the throes of passion, so she couldn’t talk long. I tried Cordelia, but she was out on a date with some guy her mother had set her up with, so she probably didn’t want to talk. I even tried calling Holly, but some guy named Larson answered and said that Holly was out and then started crying and tried to get me to help solve his relationship woes. Apparently, Holly is living and sleeping with this Larson fellow, but she’s currently dating some older dude named Roger who buys her things, and is sleeping with on the sly some accountant from Detroit when either Roger or Larson aren’t available or have done something small to piss her off.
Finally, I went to the last resort. I called up my mother. I was nervous about telling her that she was right and then listening to her go one for twenty minutes about how beautiful her grandchildren were going to look before she even got around to helping me solve my problem. Unfortunately, I forgot that my parents were at the local community club meeting that evening and then going dancing at the Moose Lodge afterward, so I got the lovely answering machine with its first thirty seconds of my dad asking if the machine recording device was on and then hung up.
I knew that I couldn’t go into the bedroom and just snuggle up to Ben in the bed without him thinking it was some sort of answer. We were married and we were supposed to be making it believable for Immigration, but now it was so believable, we were even starting to believe it. I sighed, thinking that either Ben and I were really good actors and never realized it or that we were just desperate for affection anywhere we could get it. After debating back and forth, I decided to stay in the living room for the night and watch some TV.
I turned on VH1 Classic to watch some old videos. Usually they have on some classic Van Halen with David Lee Roth or one of those ultra-cool Madonna videos. At that point, I would have even settled for watching some crappy video by Tiffany or Debbie Gibson if it would only distract me from the fact that I was miserable. I should have guessed what the video would inevitably be when I turned on the station.
Total Eclipse of the Heart.
The actual kissing part was fantastic. Ben is an Olympic class kisser, though I’ve never found an appropriate moment to tell him so. No, the part that was awkward was the actual fact that I was kissing Ben. Ben. My best guy friend for the past five years. The guy I usually saw as an adopted older brother.
So, the entire time, I’m kissing him, my lips are think “Hells yeah!”, my heart is thinking “about time girlfriend”, my pants are thinking “take us off”, and my brain is screaming at me like crazy “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? THIS IS BEN! YOU’RE PHOTOGRAPHER! YOUR FRIEND! WHY ARE YOU KISSING THE ONLY GUY IN YOUR LIFE WHO YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY SCREWED UP A RELATIONSHIP WITH? WE ARE SO GOING TO A PSYCHIATRIST TOMORROW TO FIND OUT WHAT SORT OF CRAZY PERSON YOU ARE!”
Then my heart and my lips started telling my brain to shut up because it was interfering in everyone else’s good time and my pants were trying to figure out why I wasn’t taking them off yet. Then I realized that I was giving parts of my body human characteristics and wondered if my brain was right about me being totally and completely nutzo. I was about to concede to my brain and pull away from Ben, suggesting that everything we had just been doing, i.e. shoving our tongues down each other’s throats, was a big mistake because we were
a) bored
b) loosing it
c) starved for attention and affection from the opposite sex
d) in love but weren’t about to admit it or most likely
e) all of the above
Then Ben pulled away in a move that, needless to say, surprised me.
“Catt,” he said in a really strained voice, like he was, I don’t know, horny, “are you sure we should be doing this?” Then things started to change around and my brain started wondering when Ben became the girl in this relationship and why he all of a sudden was acting like he didn’t want inside my pants.
“Do you think we shouldn’t be doing this?” I asked him, not wanting to come out and say we shouldn’t because the whole should-we-or-shouldn’t-we-get-it-on-now-that-we’re-married question was starting to confuse me too.
“I don’t know,” Ben said, sounding a little bit more composed. “Do you?”
“We could go back and forth on this all day,” I pointed out.
“Why won’t you answer me?” Ben demanded to know.
“Why won’t you answer me?” I repeated in the same tone. Ben looked like he was about to get really angry with me and then just sighed a little. I thought he was going to get up from the couch, but he still had his arms around me.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked me, as if I had just told his most precious secret to half the world.
“What am I doing?” I asked him. I didn’t add that if my memory didn’t fail to serve me, I had just been full on making out with him on the couch a minute ago.
“Yeah,” Ben said, taking his hands off me completely. “One minute, you’re telling me that we shouldn’t screw up our friendship by making love and then you’re kissing me on the couch…”
“Ben…” I began, the realized I didn’t know what else to say after that.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, sinking back into the couch pillows.
“Well,” Ben said, getting up off the couch. “Tell me when you do.”
Ben got ready for bed and I was left there, sitting on the couch, having the biggest inner debate of my life. On one hand, I didn’t want to loose Ben by complicating our relationship but on the other hand, I might be complicating our relationship by not pursuing him. Not to mention that my pants were still wondering why I wasn’t taking them off. In addition to my fear of loosing Ben, this tiny voice in the back of my head was going on about “nothing venture, nothing gained” and how this might be my one chance at love and happiness and I was going to blow it by over-analyzing everything, like I always did.
Then the voice in the back of my head started to get louder. It was going on about how Ben had always been there for me, even when I least expected it or wanted it but always when I most needed it. And it was talking about how he was my best friend and if anything, I should be able to be happy with him. After all, every guy I’d ever gone out with before was a complete loser. Why, when the first decent guy I had ever befriended, was practically throwing himself at me was I so resistant to him? You’d think after all the heartbreak I’d actually want a safe guy that was good for me.
I was so confused that I realized I actually might need some outside help. I called up Elle, but she and Dirk were in the midst of the throes of passion, so she couldn’t talk long. I tried Cordelia, but she was out on a date with some guy her mother had set her up with, so she probably didn’t want to talk. I even tried calling Holly, but some guy named Larson answered and said that Holly was out and then started crying and tried to get me to help solve his relationship woes. Apparently, Holly is living and sleeping with this Larson fellow, but she’s currently dating some older dude named Roger who buys her things, and is sleeping with on the sly some accountant from Detroit when either Roger or Larson aren’t available or have done something small to piss her off.
Finally, I went to the last resort. I called up my mother. I was nervous about telling her that she was right and then listening to her go one for twenty minutes about how beautiful her grandchildren were going to look before she even got around to helping me solve my problem. Unfortunately, I forgot that my parents were at the local community club meeting that evening and then going dancing at the Moose Lodge afterward, so I got the lovely answering machine with its first thirty seconds of my dad asking if the machine recording device was on and then hung up.
I knew that I couldn’t go into the bedroom and just snuggle up to Ben in the bed without him thinking it was some sort of answer. We were married and we were supposed to be making it believable for Immigration, but now it was so believable, we were even starting to believe it. I sighed, thinking that either Ben and I were really good actors and never realized it or that we were just desperate for affection anywhere we could get it. After debating back and forth, I decided to stay in the living room for the night and watch some TV.
I turned on VH1 Classic to watch some old videos. Usually they have on some classic Van Halen with David Lee Roth or one of those ultra-cool Madonna videos. At that point, I would have even settled for watching some crappy video by Tiffany or Debbie Gibson if it would only distract me from the fact that I was miserable. I should have guessed what the video would inevitably be when I turned on the station.
Total Eclipse of the Heart.