That Girl

I am pretty happily relationship-ed. I ran into this guy I sort of know the other night, who The Boyfriend and I both sort of know, and he invited me to have a drink with all of his friends. I agreed, and then it gets fuzzy. I kept talking about The Boyfriend, about safe topics, but I knew it wasn't safe.

All these words were saying one thing but I kept thinking that maybe they weren't.

We were in a public place. His friends were there. We were talking about my boyfriend. We were talking about his ex-girlfriend (who I sort of know, too.). We were talking about sportswear.

I don't have many friends in Chicago. I was excited someone wanted to be my friend.

But I should know that no man ever wants to be my friend. Can men and women be just friends? Do I never set clear boundaries? Is something innately wrong with me?

He was drunk. And he tried to kiss me.

I was incredulous. But not really.

Because I should have seen it coming. I feel culpable. I can't help but wonder if I let it happen. If I could have stopped it. If my words, all that talk, it was me saying one thing, but it never meant a thing. My words weren't enough.

The secret is this: part of me got a thrill. I remembered how it used to be. How I used to be. I'd meet a man, I'd kiss a man, I'd obsess for a few days until I met another new man. I thought about how, yeah, I could kiss this guy. We were standing there and he got too close and I realized he was really trying to kiss me, that I wasn't imagining it, and I thought about it. I thought about kissing him. And the very next thing I thought about was being pressed against The Boyfriend later that night while falling asleep.

That emotional turmoil I used to purposely put myself through? Apparently, I still crave it. But I couldn't do that to The Boyfriend. The thrill isn't worth it. It's The Boyfriend I want. Waking up next to The Boyfriend, cooking breakfast with him, bickering about music preferences, talking about the grocery list - that's what I want. That's who I am.

I am not That Girl anymore.

How long do I have to remind myself?