Fear, fatigue and loathing

Okay, now was I a complete idiot about this whole thing? On Saturday night, KB was trashed, and we got into a completely ridiculous you-said-that, but-I-meant-this, well-I-thought-this, so-it-wasn't-that-after-all! kind of conversation, after which I was like, what the...? and he was probably even more confused. I seem to have achieved the dubious distinction of confusing him more than any other person he's slept with. Score! Not.

No, wait. The proper order of it is this: I was supposed to go to the farewell party with Maiko, but she was ill, so I forced myself to go alone, practically hyperventilating on the way there. Because you know, after you tell someone you like them? You feel kinda awkward. To say the least. Plus I really didn't want to feel all jealous and sad and shit.

Fortunately, a couple classmates were there, plus our teacher from last term, so it wasn't bad at all. I felt no more self-conscious around KB than normal (well, maybe just a wee bit), and the only part that was hard was when everyone said goodbye and, on the way out, asked, "But what about you, Helen? Aren't you coming?" and I had to say, somewhat embarrassed, "A little later." Cough, cough. But the big hug from KB after everyone left was a very worthwhile reward for the curious looks and dawning suspicions.

After the guests all left, I sat half an hour with KB's old housemate Curly, who told me (in Korean--always easier to say these things in a foreign language) about how hard it was to see his recent ex at the party, but that he bore it like a champ (and he really did) because his ex is a good friend of KB's. He actually wiped a couple tears away. I put a blanket over him when he seemed like he was about to fall asleep, and KB pulled me out of the room. Poor Curly.

Back at Mig's apartment, KB started the absurd conversation alluded to above by saying, "When I look at your face, I see my friend Helen." Um, so, okay. "And when I first met you, I never even considered sleeping with you -- the thought never crossed my mind." Okay, so I'm not your type, fine, thanks for letting me know, KB. "But now I know -- you're a total babe!" Again, uh, thanks. "What, did you want to sleep with me when you first saw me?" Well... "See? But when you jumped on top of me on Monday night -- "

"Wait a sec. I didn't jump on top of you. You grabbed my wrist and I fell on top of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I mean, I probably wouldn't have approached you if I hadn't been drunk, but it was definitely when you grabbed my wrist that I lost my balance and fell on you by accident."

"Oh. Well, I thought differently."

Christ. One should never, ever talk about stuff like this. Especially when your fling is going to be over in the next 36 hours.

After some more "I have no idea what or why you're saying this"es and "I'm trying to explain, but I can't!"s, we gave up and lay there in slightly irritable silence until we figured out something more worth doing.

The upset of that night was somewhat alleviated by last night, when I left my house at 10:30 pm in order to stay with KB on his last night in Korea. I suggested coming over, because I was pretty sure I wouldn't have the chance to see him on his last day (today, Monday), and had to fairly bolt out of my house to catch the metro before it closed. I told my grandmother that I "had somewhere to go." Sometimes that non-communicative communication that works so well in Asia really has its perks. Also, as well as being the source of all things confusing, apparently I have a heretofore unbeknownst deep, deep well of non-shame.

As I got into Shinchon (round midnight) and walked past school to Mig's apartment, I couldn't help but laugh. The length one goes to get some nookie. Intimacy. Whatever. It's just funny.

We didn't talk about anything stupid, thank god, and my natural instincts to overanalyze seem to have spent themselves on Saturday night. So it was actually a very nice, relaxed night. I only marginally felt like a loser.

In the morning, I told him (in Korean, of course) that I was very glad to have met him, and that I looked forward to the next time we'd meet. And, until then, to have a good life.

(It sounds a lot more poetic in Korean.)

He agreed. Told me to come visit. We hugged. And that was that.

KB is somewhere over the ocean now, heading back to his country. I don't feel as bad as I expected to, in part because my feelings are deadened by fatigue, in part because I'm battling suspicions that I was a total, dithering fool about the whole venture, and in part because I'm still feeling those endorphins. Anyway, it's not always a bad thing to come out having been the idiot. Seems like a good thing to've learned.