Dan felt because it was his birthday on the 20th, after we had a pleasant dinner at Black Angus and had gone the whole day with no squabbling, he deserved to know whose car I was in when I took the infamous 3:31 picture...
I sighed...I died a little...I told him...well, I lied a bunch. I said that I had met up with Edgar (which is true) but that we had just talked as friends...and I had decided I still had no feelings for him, despite whatever else he might have felt...
true-ish...I guess...about the closest I could get to the real story...
To my incredible surprise, Dan didn't blow up or scream at me or get violent...he was just upset I was being so blatantly dishonest...he did make mention that I could still be covering up more...but we both fell asleep annoyed and tired...I don't think he believed me all the way through, but I didn't care...I was glad I had made him at least stop asking...I changed the wallpaper on my phone...I figured the 3:31 picture was my way of insuring I would get caught...only I wouldn't fess up until I was ready...
With all that unpleasantness over and done with, Dan and I soldiered on the next morning happy and harmonious. Seven of us friends got together at Medieval Times in Buena Park and had ourselves a fun time celebrating Dan's 26th birthday...he and I were very cute and took pictures on my camera phone, wearing our paper crowns...Dan even bought the overpriced $20 glossy group photo of us posing with the princess of the castle...it felt cathartic to be with good food, good friends and good times...after the joust was over, we huddled in the parking lot and decided to get some drinks at the Anarchy Library in Downey, our new favorite bar...
En route to the bar, I was giddy and in good spirits...I figured Dan and I had reconciled, somewhat...he kept looking back at me and smiling, mouthing along to the words of the songs blaring out the car stereo...then I feel my phone vibrate at precisely the stroke of midnight...who else could it be?
Edgar is calling me. I reject the call hastily. I shoot him a text in the dark, praying Dan won't see me. This had to be about the most tense and nail-biting text conversation ever:
me: I'm out drinking with friends.
Edgar: Where at?
me: The Anarchy Library.
Edgar: See you in a few.
me: Nooooo...Danny is here.
Edgar: Ok
me: The music is whack, we might leave soon.
Edgar: Let me know.
The odds were stacked against me, as soon as I complained about the music out loud to my friends (who all agreed was quite rightly, whack as all shit)...the bouncer intervened and said he'd get it back to more 80s and less rap/hip hop....in a matter of minutes, my favorite band The Smiths was on and I was in new wave heaven...my friends secured a table and settled in for the night...I knew I could never get six grown people to leave...maybe just one round and we'd leave? Well, we ended up having two rounds...it was 1 am when I finally got the whole lot of us to leave...I prayed he'd still be up.
me: Leaving Downey now.
no answer...my drunk self was indignant and bleary-eyed...
me: Are you asleep already?
silence...
I knew it was over...no, no, no...please...I want him. I WANT HIM!
that's it....the window of opportunity has been slammed on my fingers...I wince...I retreat...I give it one last futile shot...I call him...it rings and rings and rings...goes to voicemail.
Hi, you've reached the cell phone of Edgar Cruz...
Hmm. I see he's switched back to his old voice mail message...good.
me: Guess it's too late for you. I am on way back to Whittier right now. I was gonna suck your dick...lick you like a motherfuckin' lollipop.
I was pretty drunk by then...not my best piece of literary flirtation, but I am not the Shakespeare of the sexting world.
And so I go to sleep, angry...horny...abandoned...wishing things were different...wishing I could stop it all, wishing I could have it all. Sometimes I feel like I could claw out my eyes, I want him so much...sometimes I wish it would all go away...I wish there'd just be peace inside my mind as I drift off to sleep with a thousand pounds of guilt on my head and my heart.
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