Sexit

         Sexit

         1.

         “Yeah, but she was a weirdo. She just kept on talking about some Japanese cartoon she liked watching and it was creepy. She was a lesie-nerd. It’s not exactly an ideal combination, you know? I wish you were there with me then. Why? Because...”

         My eyes were locked on his as I drank up my beer. About five minutes ago he started to talk about his limited experiences in the gay scene. Perhaps it was my own fault to ask him if he had been seeing anyone. I thought it would be nice to be polite and ask him about how his love life was, but who knew he would go on forever about how every queer he had met was all fucking difficult to talk to and strange. Okay, so he’s not getting laid on a regular basis, and he doesn’t have a boyfriend. That’s really all I wanted to know.

         “Wait, so, you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

         I poured some beer into my empty glass as I asked him. Then I looked him up like a puppy would, trying to decide if he was cute enough to date or not. I always knew how to pretend to be interested in something. People like to talk to me and open up about themselves, even though on the inside I rarely give a shit about them. Maybe I got this from my dad. Being a businessman his whole life, he always knew how to make people open up to him. I don’t know if he really cared about them—probably not. But I think it is a good skill to have. A useful one, at least.

         “No, I’ve dated a few guys. Until two weeks ago I was talking to this guy, actually. It really surprised me when I found out…”

         “Well, I think that sucks,” I cut him off before he was about to get into the pointless details again. “I think you should maybe put yourself out there more. I mean, look at you. You’re pretty cute.”

         He looked down, awkwardly tapping on the table for a few seconds as if he was embarrassed.

         “Well, anyways. I found out that he was a refugee from North Korea. Can you believe that? A gay guy from North Korea!” He continued, as if he was trying to shut me up before I could make him feel uncomfortable again.

         I honestly didn’t give a flying fuck about his boring stories, but I decided I should at least try to engage in a conversation with him. So I asked him, pretending to be in a shock: “Oh my God. You must be joking! He really grew up in North Korea?”



         2.

         I listened to my roommate’s soft snoring as I tried to concentrate on reading a biography. It was four in the morning already. I knew it wasn’t good for me: refusing to fall asleep until I was completely exhausted, then waking up around noon the next day to regret everything I did and did not do the night before. There wasn’t particularly any reason to this, I thought.¬ Pushing my book to the end of the desk to lay my head, I began to think about why I’ve been feeling so empty lately. Could it be because of my ex, who wasn’t man enough to at least tell me why we were breaking up?

         Thinking about what he said to me and the way he left me made me a little upset. I felt tired, so I sat on my bed to turn on my laptop.

         “Double-u double-u double-u dot facebook dot com,” I quietly recited as I typed. He seemed to be happy, still. Or maybe he was just trying to fake it, just as I was. I agreed when people told me that Facebook was an easy tool to check up on others’ lives. But at the same time, thanks to Facebook, you can easily fabricate how you feel about your life in this way and that, because it made your life so much more accessible. For instance if anyone wanted to get to know me but didn’t have enough drive to do it personally, they would just go on my Facebook profile and think I was happy about everything and anything in life.

         Scrolling down the endless pictures and babbles on my newsfeed, I remembered that I had in fact come back from a date. Maybe I should try and look him up on Facebook, I thought. I searched his name, and found out that he had many mutual friends with me. Well yeah, he did go to my school after all.

         It was interesting to see his posts about some IT awards he won. For some reason I always thought it was just a lame rumor. He was like an urban legend in my school. I went to one of the best schools in Korea, and it was almost impossible for a technical high school student to get into my school.

         Suddenly, I found myself more attracted to him. Maybe I will text him tomorrow morning. Maybe I would get to like him and get into a relationship again.



         3.

         He put one of his earphones into my right ear. Classical music was playing, and it was an enjoyable one, too. I was in a very good mood. The classes were okay. The weather was nice. I had Samgyupsal for dinner with this IT genius who insisted on paying for me, because he had gotten paid a couple days ago. I took a peek at my right and I saw that his eyes were closed. It was sort of surprising that he was into classic and New Age music. I usually only listened to electronic or hip-hop music, but I was beginning to feel like maybe it was because I just wasn’t exposed to other genres.

         The situation was almost poetic. We were sitting next to each other, all the way back in a loud bus. I was completely alone with him from the crowd, listening to the piano playing in my right ear. I turned my head to the left and looked through the window. I stared at the rainy streets for a brief while, until I saw the reflection of him behind me.

         I took a closer look at his face: his straight eyebrows that twitched a little as the bus came to a stop, his rather big nose for a Korean guy, and finally his lips. His lips were pretty nice, I must say. They were pink, and I bet they get soft and wet when he kisses—just the way I like it.

         I was only on the third date with him. And I was almost sure that he was into me. He always texted me first. He would call me when he’s drunk and refuse to hang up for a long time. But did he know I was slowly starting to get attracted to him as well? Did he know, and should he know? The music ended, and I saw that we were coming close to our stop.

         “Did you like it?” he asked. But instead of answering him, I just watched him put his iPod and earphones back into his bag. He rubbed his nose with his finger when he saw the smile on my face.

         “Yeah, I really liked it.” I finally answered as I stood up from my seat.



         4.

         After a few seconds of awkward silence, he opened up his mouth to start a new conversation: “You know, I think I’m getting my first car pretty soon.”

         Being the insane person that I am, I was still having debates in my head whether I could become his boyfriend or not, should he ever ask. So even though I was never really interested in cars, I decided to ask him, “really, what kind?” because I wanted to get to know him better.

         He answered me, “I don’t know yet. But it should be a big one.” I asked him why he wanted a big one, even though I sensed that the answer may freak me out a little. “Because,” he said as he looked down on his knees, “that way I can put all the junk in the back seat and go to places with you.”



         5.

         I refused to admit that it was morning already, until my roommate shook me to wake me up. When I opened up my eyes, I could tell that he was annoyed at my alarm ringing. Apparently it was 11 A.M. already.

         As I turned off the alarm, I remembered what had already become an embarrassing memory. I got so drunk last night and danced with my friends on the street like a bunch of madmen. It was just painful to remember that kids who walked by were laughing at us the whole time. No, there’s no way I’m going to class today, fuck it.

         I fell back into my bed to stare at the ceiling. I turned on my phone to put on some quiet music. I recently realized how I always played music or watched TV shows when I was alone. I guess it was because I had to be alone a lot since I was 14. I used to feel less alone with music playing in the back ground. These days I just played it to avoid thinking too much.

         As I went through my playlists and looked for some Lana Del Rey songs, I thought about how I stopped talking to the IT genius guy. It sort of reminded of my ex-boyfriend. He had his ways of wanting something for his own, but when he felt like he didn’t want it anymore or wanted something else, he left. He hated the pressure, although it was often created inside his head. I was starting to feel less distant from him, and it made me want to jump off the window.



         6.

         “Hi, what’s up?” I said on the phone, trying not to bump into the walls as I made my way to the 8th floor. He sounded like he just woke up, and I could tell he was a bit surprised. I didn’t give a shit. “So,” I said as I opened the door to my room, “do you wanna fuck?” After a few seconds of silence, I asked him again. “Do you wanna fuck? I’m really drunk and horny.” Although he sounded shocked, he said yes, as it was expected. I hung up the phone to quickly wash my body and walked outside.

         When the elevator finally arrived and the doors opened, I could see my reflection on the wall. My face and neck were very red. It was so obvious that I was drunk, and there was this alcohol in my breath to top it off. I turned around and watched the number go down. “Eight, seven, six, five…” I counted out loud, trying not to think about whatever I was thinking about.

         I was excited, but each uneasy step towards the C building somehow made me feel guilty. I tried to think about all the attractive features of this guy. He’s alright, I thought to myself. He’s got a cute face, and he’s an IT genius which makes him an interesting person.  I was not exactly into him, but I thought that he’d do for a night. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that I needed this. I had not been on a single date since my ex-boyfriend left me. There was nothing wrong. It was clear that he was attracted to me, so it’s a win-win, it’s a win-win, it’s a fucking win-win…

         When I rang the bell of his room, I could hear his footsteps, almost running towards the door. “Kyle! Gosh, you seem drunk.” He said to me as he invited me in.

         I said, “I know… sorry,” and started to undress. I quickly took off my shirt, and then my socks. He was watching me—and I was watching him too. I could tell he didn’t know what to do, but I took my pants off anyway. “Come take a shower with me,” I told him, as if I had not just washed myself before I came here. “Oh, and don’t turn off the light.”

         I turned on the water and watched him take his clothes off. The water felt warm and nice by the time he joined me. I put him against the wall, and then started to caress his body: first his arms, his shoulders, and finally his neck. I rubbed his lips with my thumb, trying to make an eye contact. While he was looking down at my feet, I got my hands lower, all the way down to his chest. “Sorry, I will get used to it in a second,” he at last looked at me in the eyes and said, “it’s just… It’s my first time being with a guy.” I did not know what to do, so I took my hands off of him and kept my mouth shut for a while.

         I felt as if someone slapped me in the face. I could not handle the pressure of getting into a serious relationship, let alone having sex with a virgin. As much as I hated to admit it, I had become my ex-boyfriend.