It all started with a dream. Sort of vivid, sort of sexual. Won’t go into details. The two of us. After this, I woke up thinking, Eeeewww yaaaaak. And then a week later, kaboom. Damn he’s hot. Which is funny. Because really, he’s not. I just think he is. Something in my brain just decided one day that I was going to keep thinking he’s hot every time I see him. That I was going to notice everything: his broad back, his walk, his stance, his belt, his fingers, his shoes.

When this bad crush passes, I tell a friend, I know I’ll regret saying I think he’s hot. Friend looked at me with a WTF expression when I told her I had a crush on him. Something tells me that she’s never going to let me live it down, even years from now.

Here’s the thing: I’ve never been this instantly attracted to anyone before. I’ve had friendships turn into crushes, friends turn into lust objects, crushes turn into boyfriends and lust objects turning into enemies, but never this thing, this invisible kid I don’t pay attention to one day suddenly becomes this white hot object for me. I mean, sure I knew he existed. But never, not even once, since that fateful day I woke up with that attraction in my blood, did I ever think he was cuuute.

Define “hot”. What does it mean when I say, “I think he’s hot”? Does it mean I’m horny? Does it mean I want to lure him into the bathroom and seduce him? I don’t know. I just feel like running my hands through his hair and putting my hands on his hips. Damn he’s hot.

Oh boy. A few months from now I’m going to reread this and be really, really embarrassed. Sheesh. Disclaimer: this too shall pass. I know.

Here’s a possible explanation for this aberration: he reminds me a lot of my horrible-turned-amicable ex (not the amicable-turned-horrible ex). I don’t know. I remember mentioning this to my ex back when he wasn’t my ex yet. I said something like, “So-and-so reminds me a lot of you” and he had made a face and said, “What made you say that?” and at the time I couldn’t place my finger on it. There was just something. Even the dream I had about him was reminiscent of my ex. This is weird. Like déjà vu only with a different person.

But it’s strange that when I think about him I don’t think he is relationship material at all. So I know that this is pure, undisputed lust. (Should I be embarrassed to admit this?) I don’t want him to be my boyfriend; I want him to… well… make my dream come true? That’s a laugh.

Even the mere sight of his boxers is, well, a turn-on. Gawd this is bound to be my undoing.

BUT!

I have no plans to seduce him or some on to him or whatever. I don’t know. I’m just not the fling type. Never tried it, never plan to. I made a pact with myself: just sleep with past or present boyfriends. Just to comply as much as I can with my Catholic-schoolgirl upbringing. As if sex is compliance at all, but you have to give me that much. At least I have standards. Hahaha.

Anyway.

Plus he seems to be scared of me. I think he’s intimidated. Probably because I’m not like most girls. Because I can be bastos, and he seems to be attracted to good, sweet girls. Which I am most definitely not.

So. There is goes. This lust-o-rama will fade, sooner or later. And then he’ll be back to just being this guy I see from time to time. And this article will just be some kind of embarrassing reminder.

In the meantime, at least I can be confident that I am capable once more of finding men attractive. I guess I’ll have to content myself with glimpses of the back of his head, his askew legs, his broad shoulders, his menacing looks. Oh well. It’s hard to have to reconcile one’s sexuality with one’s sensibilities.



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Postscript: to the people who know me, nope, you don't know who this is. Except for the members of the ginpom yahoogroups who have had to bear the brunt of my lust-o-rama. Hehehe.