Page 18 of Perfect
I’m too distracted thinking about what would have happened if I’d invited that guy home.
I’ve only ever slept with Danny, and I’veneverhad casual sex, so I don’t even know what that would be like. Thinking about being vulnerable like that with a stranger makes me nervous, but it’s also exciting. It feels more and more like there’s a real possibility that I could start dating someone at some point when I’m ready. Having someone be so openly interested in me and flirting without making a total fool out of myself felt nice, so maybe casual dating would be nice.
Maybe casual sex would be nice, too.
When I crawl into bed that night, I grab my vibrator and think about the guy from the bar.
God, I hope I see him again.
8
THEO
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9
I lean against the tree at the end of Alex’s block, keeping in the shadows as I watch her walk up towards the house from the opposite end of the street, her face lit up with a pretty smile.
I’m absolutely fucked.
I can tell my feelings about her are right.
I need to be methodical about getting to know her, and this was the first step. It wentsofucking well. I try to calm down on the walk home, but I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning, and every part of me is thrumming with energy. I head down to the basement the second I’m inside to work off some of the excitement, but it doesn’t help.
All I can do is think about her.
I can’t let myself get carried away here, so I go upstairs, pour myself a drink, and set a timer. There have to be limits, even if they’re arbitrary, so I’m giving myselfonehour to think about her as much as I want to, and that’s it.
Everything about her is so perfect. She’s got a beautiful smile and a cute laugh, and she blushessoeasily. She’s a little reserved, but very friendly. She’s also a shitty liar. I would’ve noticed that at some point, but knowing she was lying about her apartment showed me that she briefly skates her teeth over the innermost part of her bottom lip when she lies.
It’s adorable.
She’sadorable.
I imagine what would have happened if she’d invited me back to her place, and after coming to the thought of her on her knees blushing up at me, I pour myself another drink and go to my office to make several impulsive purchases.
Ineedto control myself, so once the timer goes off, I do my best not to think about her. It’s impossible, and I last all of five minutes before I give in and spend the rest of the night drinking and thinking about her, getting progressively more drunk and thinking about getting to know her the way I want to, the way Ihaveto. I spend time looking at everything I would need to do that, and then I lose complete control of myself and start buying things.
The drunker I get, the more ill-advised and impulsive the purchases get.
***
I wake up late the next morning in fucking agony. I haven’t been drunk in a decade, but I don’t remember hangovers being this excruciating. I spend the entire day nursing my hangover andgoing through every impulse management skill I’ve learned in the last ten years to keep from thinking about Alex.
Noneof it helps, and I dream about her when I sleep.
I’m eating breakfast the next day when a pile of packages gets delivered to my house. I stare down at them with trepidation, glancing at the shipping labels. Did I seriously pay for expedited overnight shipping? Oh, for fuck’s sake. I don’t need the things in these packages, and I’m going to return them. They were stupid, impulsive purchases I made because I was drunk, and I need to calm down.
Alex is a normal, ordinary woman. She’s just a normal, charming, gorgeous woman with huge, light brown eyes that I could get lost in and, the more I look into her, possibly a fake identity. She’s just a normal, intriguing, magnetic woman that I can’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard I try.
I need to trymuchharder.
I know I should return all the packages, that I shouldn’t even touch them, but I bring them inside and set them on the kitchen counter, my mind spinning as I stare at them. I should return them and keep running into her in person, like last night, and get to know her that way. It’ll take a long time to do that, but it’s what I should do.
It’s not what I want to do, though.
I leave the packages on the counter and go for a run, forcing myself not to pass by her office. I come home and make lunch, my eyes darting to the pile of packages every few minutes. I spend an hour cleaning the house, debating whether or not to pick someone up tonight. I haven’t answered any dating app messages or thought about fucking anyone lately because I’m no longer interested in the idea of anyone but Alex, but that’s a problem.
I should be interested in other women, interested in trying to get to know someone else in any way at all, even if it’s just sex. Itake all the packages and put them in the attic with all the boxes of things I have no interest in seeing or thinking about, resolving to go out tonight and talk to someone,anyone, just to prove to myself that I can think about women other than Alex.
