Wine With a Boy

I never thought I’d see you roll up like that
All sleek and slippery,
Nothing like the protection I had experienced from you before.

Wafting a pizza and wine in my face with the promise of a blanket spread out under the stars,
It was dark and I was unable to read you.

“In a non-innapropriate way,” you prefaced your proposition,
And I wondered if you wanted it to be the opposite of how you were pitching it.
So we walked past the baseball fields on our way to the look-out over the lake,
the stadium lights failing to light up your intentions.

The wine cork hit the lake like the red liquid hit your veins,
And before I knew it we were off on a whirlwind adventure I would never be able to get back.

Teasing comments about making out and getting ‘dirty’ tested the murky waters of the lake,
And of my mind.
It was still dark and I felt illiterate.

I was unnaturally cold and despondent just like the water,
yet I wasn’t sure how far your ‘In a non-inapropriate way’ would get us.
Continued jokes that seemed pretty inappropriate to me fell flat like the blanket spread out on the ground,
and when your thick fingers continued to graze my chin,
shivers for reasons other than the temperature wracked me,
As did the questions.
I swatted you away,
wishing I didn’t have to.

I would never let it happen between us,
A stance I had always attributed to you as well,
Although now you were laying on the blanket,
Instead of being the stand-up gentleman I had repeatedly defended you as being.

Lights brighter than the baseball fields’ ever could be went on in my mind,
And I squinted at the book you were trying to write for us,
Reading it but not wanting to.
I felt bad for feeling bad for you.
Our seven year gap was not as big as the percentage of the wine bottle you polished off,
but my concern for you when you then drove the hour home immediately afterwards was even bigger than that.

In one night, you became the equivalent of a condom in my mind.
Something marketed to girls as protection,
Yet it’s very presence evoking intimidation and an even stronger need for protection.
If you need it, you’re by default missing out on what you went to it thinking it would give to you in the first place.

No one forces my hand,
although you tried to force yours.

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In my opinion...

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