definitely the worst/funniest eye contact experience I ever had was about nine years ago, on a roof in a foreign country, too drunk to stand up and trapped in the company of a guy I’d fought in the street earlier that day
I was convinced he was going to instigate a rematch that I was too compromised to win, but also I was very unwell and unafraid to die, so I gave him a piece of my mind and rattled off a detailed list of everything I’d ever thought was wrong with him.
he didn’t reply—just stared me down, wordless, expressionless, cold unblinking eyes in the darkness.
a thought surfaced from the depths of my brain, washing ashore like a globster: this is exactly like wolves. this is a dominance display. a challenge. hold his gaze; do not break eye contact. keep your eyes open and relaxed to show that you are not concerned with his threat… too wide will show fear and submission, too narrow will suggest violence.
he moved forward, stalking towards me across the roof.
just like wolves, I thought.
he approached slowly, like he was moving underwater, or through a dream.
this is literally exactly like wolves, I thought.
wolves, my brain insisted.
you’re handling this properly for sure.
only when the tip of his nose was physically pressed against mine like fucking Marty McFly and his school principal did my brain finally admit that maybe, just maybe, this was NOT like wolves, and that maybe half-remembered dubious information I’d read in a kind of racist book about wolves once when I was nine years old was not applicable to my current situation.
then his lips pressed against mine and I realized that there are, in fact, other reasons adults make prolonged eye contact that really have nothing to do with wolf dominance displays.
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
