I hope I don’t embarrass myself too thoroughly.
During "Cabin Time" on Monday night, the subject arose, “Let’s go around the circle and see who has a boyfriend!” One of my goals while at camp was to be more open and comfortable with who I am (not just sexuality-wise,) so when the question fell upon me, I candidly said that I had just broken up with my girlfriend a few weeks ago, and that this week is going to be a really nice escape from everything I was facing back home.
Suddenly, from sun-up on Tuesday, she began paying attention to me. We weren’t flirting or anything, but she barely said two words to me prior, and all of the sudden it was, “what kind of music do you like?” and “So you go to school with her, right?” or “Oh, you live downtown? Me too!” The attention felt nice after the break up, so I talked to her more and more. It was friendly and nice, and I liked talking with someone who wasn’t boy-crazy, to be honest (as were basically all of the other girls.)
So during this series of questioning on that Tuesday afternoon she asked me, “Do you have trouble sleeping?” and I was taken aback. "Yeah, how did you know?" She told me that she had heard me tossing and turning, and getting out of bed to get a book the night before, and that she had trouble sleeping too. She then suggested that we “not-sleep” together, and stay up talking if insomnia befell us over the course of the week. I thought it was harmless, and it did prove to be, at least that night.
After Cabin Time on Tuesday, everyone began to go to bed one by one. She, my best friend and I, however, stayed up talking until about 1 am. Apparently we were too loud, and our villa-mates exiled us to the “front porch” of our cabin. The girl layed out her towel and suddenly we were quiet. Our mutual friend said that it made her tired, and she went swiftly to bed. Marissa asked me if I was tired, and I wasn’t. I don’t think I have to describe to you the intensity of the romantic element to this scene. Lying alone at night, a sky overflowing with the kind of stars that can’t be found at home, the waves crashing onto the shore, the moon reflecting onto the water, and everyone else in our world sound asleep. The tension was palpable, but we ignored it.
You probably already know this, but at the time I did not. This girl, of course, has a girlfriend. To my knowledge, she and this girl had also broken up a few weeks before, which became a bonding topic for the two of us. If I remember correctly, she even referred to her as “My ex-girlfriend.” Still, although there were many “moments,” neither of us did anything about them. We both assumed, “She just got out of a relationship. This is a bad idea.”
When I say there were “moments” as well, I think one would underestimate just how close these calls really were. Basically, it was very very cold, so she lent me her sweatshirt (which, surprisingly, fit me despite her easily being 7 inches shorter and 15 pounds lighter than I am.) Still, the gesture seemed merely nice, friendly. As it got colder, the longer we layed there. Our hips touched. There would be a comment about how much warmer it was. Our knees touched, our elbows touched, and soon from ankle to shoulder, we were glued. Still, it wasn’t weird. It was just cold, right? No handholding. No anything. Friendly, friendly, friendly.
We layed there for hours, talking. Hours upon hours. Neither of us would fall asleep. After a while I commented on the fact that neither of us had even yawned. When the sky began to turn lighter, we realized suddenly that the moon was no longer over the water, but on the far side of the sky. The sun was rising and we were in disbelief. We finally began to feel tired, but we resolved to watch the sunrise. We’d made it this far, hadn’t we? We sat up. The sun deserved our full attention. I could feel her shivering against my side, even though she was wearing a sweatshirt. I offered her the one she’d lent me but she would not take it. She stopped shaking for a bit, and when she began again, and refused the sweatshirt once more, I put my arm around her. Again, it felt friendly. She was cold. That is, until she rested her hand on top of mine. We didn’t really look at each other, we just looked past the water, where the sun was running up into its sky.
Finally the sun had risen and we went back inside the Villa. I’m not sure if what happened next was a product of instance or excuse, but I climbed into my bed, and I looked over and saw Marissa pacing across the floor. I asked why she wasn’t going to bed herself (Coffeeshop was the next morning, so we luckily had about 3 hours to sleep after sunrise as opposed to one) and she told me that her bed was crawling with ants. You see, one of our cabin-mates had brought tons of candy to camp, and someone had apparently smushed a pack into her bed- yeah, gross.) So, of course, I offered to share my bed with her. Many of our other friends in the cabin were also sharing beds, so again, it felt okay. It felt friendly.
She climbed into my top bunk, overlooking the sunrise again. I sat up with her and we talked minimally for a few minutes. I don’t think either of us had enough energy left for actual substantial conversation. And finally I said, “I’m not going to sleep; I just want to lay down.” So we layed there in my bed, side by side, at approximately 6 in the morning, with the sun streaming onto our groggy faces.
I said, “I’m not going to sleep, the sun’s just too much for my eyes.” She said, “It’s okay to go to sleep, if you want,” but I was stubborn. “I will not go to sleep,” I’d tell her, laughter in my face. This is one of the moments that makes it feel most like a dream. Those dizzying tired moments, where I was smiling, and she was smiling, her eyes open and mine closed, bantering. Me, fake fighting a losing battle, and her, laughing at my false resolve.
Finally, I fell asleep on her shoulder, not thinking about how obvious it was that we were flirting, and not thinking about how nice it felt to be happy to just fall asleep and not be kissing her. To have had a night where someone stayed up and talked with me, and laughed with me and let me fall asleep on their shoulder, but did not need anything more from me. I don’t know if she fell asleep with me, or if she saw me drift off, but she was asleep when I awoke two hours later, with a content conscience and a slight sunburn.
We were zombies at coffeeshop. Everyone asked us why we were so tired, “We’d stayed up talking all night,” we’d tell them, and no one questioned us. After coffeeshop my best friend and I were walking back to the Villa and she asked, “You talked with her all night? What did you talk about?” and her every syllable was an accusation. “I don’t know, a ton of stuff,” I’d say. And I didn’t feel guilty, because her accusation, at that point, was wrong. Nothing had happened. We’d just had a nice night.
However, she and I spent the rest of the day in a flirty fog. At one point we resolved to take naps (understandably, since we hadn’t slept at all) and somehow ended up sharing my bed once again... until our friend popped back into the Villa, saying how she felt so lazy, that she had changed her mind, and she didn’t want to go kayaking with the group. As we encouraged her to go, (merely because she had expressed such keen interest in kayaking the day before,) she suddenly turned to us and said, “Why do you want to be alone so bad?” We both looked back at her blanky when she said, “Just kidding!” and left the Villa promptly.
It was joke, but it was obviously not a joke.
That day I spent with her was lovely. We spent it making bracelets and taking naps and joking and singing, and it was just as wonderful as could be. Still, nothing happened. (Again, I didn’t know that she was currently in a relationship, so that wasn’t holding me back, but I could feel some trepidation on her part, so things remained friendly.)
We had napped throughout the day, in bits, but come frontline we were both exhausted. Incidentally, this was also movie night, so we told everyone that we’d probably be passing out the moment campfire was over. Her sleeping bag, having been in her bed during the bug-invastion, was virtually unusable, so she asked if I would share with her. (Again, many girls from our cabin were sharing, and it felt perfectly reasonable.) They put on the movie and we layed on top of my sleeping bag. As it got colder, we decided to climb into the sleeping bag. As it got even colder, we decided to zip it up.
When you imagine two people in one sleeping bag, you imagine them being very close, I assume. However, until you have been in a sleeping bag with another person, (even someone as small as she was), you have no idea how close two people can physically be. Still, I tried to sleep.
I was attracted to her, yes. (which I hadn’t really expected.) and being that close to someone you’re attracted to can be distracting, especially when the stars are once again laid out above you, and you are forced to think about the way in which what you are actually seeing with your eyes right in that moment cannot be captured in a photograph, in the same way that you will never be able to capture in words just how close a sleeping bag makes two people, or how if feels to be that close to someone you find attractive, when you are wanting to kiss this person, and not quite sure if this person is wanting to kiss you.
Somewhere in between those thoughts she slipped her hand into mine. Let me just paint you our less-than romantic circumstance at this point. Below the step in which we lay in our sleeping bag, (near the back of the stadium stone seating,) nearly all the girls in our cabin sat with their backs to us. Literally, our friend's shoulder was touching Marissa’s leg, with only a sleeping bag separating the two. After about 30 minutes, I think we realized how very odd it was that neither of us were sleeping. Neither of us were watching the movie either... but if we’re so tired, why aren’t we sleeping? We each knew our individual answers, of course, but then she looked at me, (as she had multiple times. However, every other time I had pretended not to notice,) and this time I looked back at her, and this time she kissed me.
We kissed the movie away, and I was paranoid (a counselor would see us, our friends would would hear us and turn around, something something something would go wrong.) But nothing did go wrong. The movie ended. I turned to her silently, and lifted my finger to my lips. She nodded.
When anyone asked us about the movie, we told them we had fallen asleep.
I felt strange. When I tell this story in my head I always say, "I’ve never kissed anyone who I wasn’t dating at the time," but truthfully, I’ve never really kissed anyone aside from my ex-girlfriend. I just didn’t feel like myself. I don’t hook up with people, or I hadn't, at that point. I don’t have anything against it or people who prefer it, I’d just never done so in my life. But I really do like her as a person, I’d think. It’s not a hook-up then, is it? and then, But we definitely are not dating, and I really am not ready for a relationship. Even though I really like her, does that mean it’s just a hook-up? A one time thing?
We had already decided that we could not stay up again that night. When we returned to the villa, everyone was so tired that we skipped cabin time altogether. She climbed into my bed once more, and we were getting ready to go to sleep when I heard someone shift below us. Everyone was asleep, so I leaned over the side of my bunk, and there was our villa-mate, getting ready to leave. She can’t be sneaking out, I thought, she’s a counselor. So I whispered into the semi-dark, and she answered. Apparently we weren’t supposed to know, but there was a kind of initiation for new counselors being held that night. She would be back in an hour or two, she told us. Suddenly, although we should have been, I looked at the girl and she looked at me, and neither of us were tired. We spent the night together, quietly, in my bed, fully clothed, obviously, (I mean, there were 8 other girls asleep in the room,) and then I remember barely anything because again the tiredness crept in, and it felt like a dream once more.
In my memory, we became tired at the same time; we mutually pulled apart. I doubt this was really the case, but my sleepy conscious likes to remember it this way.
We gave little good night kisses. I kissed her once on the nose, and I laid my head down on the pillow next to hers, closing my eyes. After about 30 seconds, just long enough for it to be unexpected, I felt a peck on my own nose and I smiled, and that was the last thing I can remember before falling swiftly to sleep.
The next day was a dream. Things were tense at breakfast, but the discomfort quickly dissipated as the day wore on. No one was suspicious. My whole day was tainted by rosy-colored glass, and I was in amazed disbelief. We had been planning since Tuesday to stay up again. Then, we had planned it as friends, but now things had changed, and so had our unspoken intentions. Again, there was the wondering. Was this just a one night thing? Does she want to kiss me again? Again, after cabin time, she, our friend, and I found ourselves right outside the cabin, sitting on a towel, overlooking the ocean, covered in stars. It was obvious that she and I were impatient in waiting for our friend to go to bed. At one point, we were actually, physically holding hands behind our friend’s back as she sat between us.
Finally our friend grew tired. We laid down in the moonlight and listened to her whispering to our cabin-mate, then to our counselor, waiting until there were no more whispers. I told Marissa that I wanted to be sure everyone was asleep. We could not get caught.
We waited for what seemed like an eternity, exchanging quiet comments like, “Are you as impatient as I am?” and “I think they literally need to create a new word that essentially means impatience, but is much much stronger, much more intense. Like strongly dislike vs. hate.” We passed the time silently until we were sure that everyone was asleep once more.
We kissed shamelessly, until there were footsteps, and we felt it was best to go back inside. We climbed back into my bunk, (her bed was actually alright now, but well, yeah.) After a while it felt like sleep was upon us, and then she told me that she thought she should go back to her own bed. I asked her why that was and she told me that she was afraid our counselor would suspect something, or our friend. I told her it was okay, that everyone else was sharing beds, that it really wouldn’t look that weird.
She insisted that she had to go. She looked as if she was going to cry. Finally, I asked her what was wrong and she told me that she just had to go. So I let her. She climbed to the floor and told me not to fall asleep. She wanted to kiss my goodnight. I waited up a few minutes while she got ready for bed, and then she came back, and climbed onto the ledge of our counselor's bed, and she kissed me goodnight. I could barely see her face, as mine was the one lit by moonlight, but as she pulled away, she said, “Wow” and I whispered “What?” and she replied, “Your eyes” and I laughed. “Are they brown or green?” she said. “Hazel,” I answered. "Wow," she said once more, and again I let out a small laugh. Still, I couldn’t see her face, but I knew now that she could see mine. I don’t remember her exact words, and now I really wish that I did, but the tiredness was setting in again. She said something like, “This will not be our last kiss,” and she climbed into her own bunk, and we both fell asleep.
She said that it would not be our last kiss, but, in fact, it was.
I woke up confused the next morning. She was standoffish, and I tried to ignore it and simply have fun with the other friends I had made at camp. It was still a nice day, I suppose, but this unknown issue was itching in the back of my mind.
I spent a little time (while everyone was showering,) just walking around the entire camp a few times. I walked along the fire road and stumbled upon her, fresh out of the shower, sitting alone. I sat down next to her, and we were quiet for a few minutes. She turned to me and smiled and said, “About these past few nights," she hesitated, "how do you feel about what happened?” and I knew she was asking me about the good things that had happened and not the confusing things. I laughed. “I’m not sure what you mean. Good, obviously.” She laughed. “Well, how would you answer that question?” I added. She paused for a few moments, “Good.” We both laughed. “Listen,” she tells me, “I’m really not good at these kinds of things, but," she struggles for words, "I’d like to date you when we get home.” She said it in a tone that made me feel like this was an impossibility, but I did not know why. Also, I did not have the heart to tell her that I really was not ready for a relationship at that moment, nor would be soon.
This is when she chose to tell me about Ashleigh. About their on-and-off relationship, about how terrible she felt in that relationship, and how guilty she felt for cheating, so guilty that she wanted to die. She began to cry. I knew I was such a big part of the problem that reaching out to her could simply make her feel worse. I wanted to comfort her, but I did not know how. We talked through a lot, about how much she had wanted to break up with Ashleigh, about how unhealthy their relationship was. We talked about the fact that what happened between the two of us was not a mistake. It was not a moment of weakness. She told me that she did not regret it. She did not kiss me because I was there. She liked me, very very much, she said. Then she told me that she was very conflicted and confused, and that she was sorry she didn’t tell me. Apparently they had gotten back together two days before our leaving for camp. She told me that she was sorry, but that she would need time to be single, that although she liked me very much, she needed time to figure things out. Obviously, I was very relieved, although I think she may have not believed me when I said this is what I wanted as well. She said she was planning on breaking up with Ashleigh, that we could be friends, that we could see where things lead in the future. She was crying, but she was hopeful.
The next day was awkward and sad. We both were thinking of home, and the impending arrival of everything we had tried to escape here. We danced together friday night, but we did not kiss, and I did not hold her hand, and we may have looked at each other fondly for a little too long, but that was all. We barely spoke Saturday. We didn’t speak at all on the boat ride home. That is, until we saw the shore. Everyone was saying goodbye, and she gave me the biggest hug of all. I slipped my phone number into her hand and she smiled at me. We said goodbye, and went off onto our separate shores.
Roughly 10 minutes later, we saw each other once more, getting our bags, and she ran over to me and hugged me yet again, even tighter. I told her I would see her soon. We went home. She is still in a relationship, according to her Facebook. I have not heard from her since.
dededos
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
baratheonpilled
izzy806
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass