Thursday, 12/03/09 - 10:12 am.
As it's been custommary lately, I went to JC's house after my drum lessons last night. We watched cartoons, talked and attempted to start a diary, like the one I kept during my university years about, well, the university years, just for laughs and fully illustrated. We have hilarious things to keep track of.
The good-bye hug was excruciating. When I stretched out my arms to hug him, he moved forward to kiss me but I had already turned my head. Dammit. I kept telling myself I was not going to leave without kissing him, but I wasn't making a move and neither was he. We spent about 10 minutes talking shit while hugging. I caressed and kissed his neck, because we were talking about tickling and I was pretending to have a scientific interest in his reactions. Nothing. Until we finally moved in a certain way and were face to face, too close, way too close. We hesitated for half a second and then...finally.
FINALLY, I say.
It wasn't that hard to believe, that I was finally kissing JC. I'd wanted it for so long and I even found it slightly familiar. He was leaned against my car and I was leaned against him; he's such a great kisser and there was a lot of passion involved. But then I heard a door open, I supposed his mom or dad had come out to tell him something, and I automatically pulled away and said goodbye. I don't know if the door was the one from his house, really.
So I got in my car but as I was closing the door he held it firmly, stuck half of his body in the car and kissed me again (eat this, chick flicks!). It was half a Spiderman-type of kiss because he was pretty much sideways. Then he stopped and said, "Hey". "Yeah?". "I like you". I said I liked him too, and it killed me. In the good sense. In a past conversation, he told me of the time he promised himself to always tell the girl he likes her, no matter what. I was hoping to hear it but I just never saw it coming.
Then he stopped again to recite a Facebook status: "[JC] is an epic win". Which is a total win in itself, because a few weeks ago he didn't know what that was. I laughed and said, "I beat the tigresses", that's the codename for students that drool over him and have tried to seduce him (LOL). He said, "I beat Little Massage", aka Skeleton Guy. Once I told JC that I was talking to Skeleton Guy online and I mentioned that I had a sore muscle, to which he replied "*little massage*". We used those colorful characters to channel our attraction for each other, actually. But they too were a source of amusement in their own right.
So, anyway. By the time I drove away, my lips were swollen, but don't take this as a complaint. I couldn't stop, I just couldn't. Also, it was great talking with his hand on mine, to be able to tell him he altered my heartbeat, and hear him say how he'd been dying to kiss me for so long. The first time I said goodbye I told him I should leave him so he could finish his patient report and graduate. While making out, he said "I don't want to graduate". I replied, wholeheartedly, "I don't want to go abroad to get my master's degree". I realize this is a statement in support of our academical mediocrity, but leave it alone right now.
In the car, I laughed hysterically. I came home and I was high. And I can't wait to see him again, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow. It was unbelievable, I can't get over this.
Later that night, I was checking FB and I saw that Joseph had uploaded some pictures. I suppose it's a tournament he attended. In location, he wrote "Rome". I saw the pictures (he's in only one of them, the rest is just tournament-related) and I couldn't stop laughing, because my mind was somewhere else and I didn't care. Well, I suppose a part of me is upset and hurt by seeing how cool his life after me is, but I'm ignoring it. Truthfully, my life is awesome, too, and I have better things to occupy my energy on. If the burden of the break-up with Joseph was the price to pay to come across JC, it was damn worth it.
God, I love December. I shall mark December 2nd on my calendar, there was full moon and stuff.
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