/HoldHand
I let you touch me and the world didn’t fall apart.
Since Seis, I had been restricting my diet of men. Actually, I had seen no one. I stopped seeing men that viewed me as a woman (compared to say, a human, or a friend). Thus, I only had dinner with two guy friends (October), and a lunch & shopping date with an old friend (January), until last Friday.
Guys from my guild said they were coming to my city. Three of them live an hour and a half away, that middle distance which is close enough for a day trip but too far to travel frequently. Therefore, against my wishes, it was to be an occasion.
The day before, it was only the three of them, plus their friend in Seoul, plus our younger huntard. Then they invited me. So it was only six people. It could even have been five — the three didn’t know if it was going to be three or going to be two or less. We didn’t even know where we would be meeting. The station? Hongdae? The fish market? Ideas were thrown around, but nothing was certain.
That evening, it had grown to 8 people, and possibly more. An old-time paladin had invited himself, booked a venue, and galvanized others to attend. This was a problem.
I had known this guy for a long time. Since probably ever. He had always been nice enough. Consistent enough. He was set in his ways but that didn’t clash with the overall direction of the guild and he was helpful. I grew to accept him as an “oldie” and would respond to his messages on Katalk (my username is open to guildies). But I had always thought he was married. I vaguely remembered him talking about his wife, his mistress. So, two years ago, when I got a (very) late night message, I was surprised. The message was about how he cherished me, wanted to see me, wanted to hear my voice. By this time, I had grown too accustomed to dealing with older men in various stages of drunkenness. I (remotely) coddled him and put him to bed. Even though I felt disgust, a drunken verbal transgression was something I could brush off.
But this guy was now coming to a dinner I couldn’t back out of.
The day of, I got my chores ready. Dad is fifty-something and still can’t feed himself. I made bean sprouts (both kinds), zucchini, and his favorite radish dish, and defrosted the soup. Don’t forget the new rice. Then the beauty regimen: exfoliating soap, facial massage, pluck brows, etc. I don’t scrub up often, but when I do, I put some damn effort into it. Primer, concealer, foundation, powder, eye makeup (my favorite) and a blood red on my lips. For some reason, I wanted to impress these guys.
I ran a little late, but arrived at the station. Called him. He showed up a minute later, all angles and length. He welcomed me to the party, which was already in full swing. A round of drinks went around, and we got to the introductions. Everyone knew me because I was the only woman; no one quite knew anybody else. Idiots.
Another guy, a friend of the paladin, was there. He played a mage and we all knew that he was married. A kid that would pull him away at all times of the day. Another in the oven.
So I asked: “What did you tell your wife?”
He replied, “Nothing. I told her nothing.”
“What about you?” I turned to the paladin.
“What?”
“What did you tell your wife?”
“I don’t have one!”
It hit me. I didn’t have to be disgusted about him. In a second, all my inhibitions melted away. I was more relaxed and engaged. Then my old habits reared its head. I started laughing, then leaned into him. A slight touch. A few more drinks in, my hand found the top of his.
He clasped his other hand over mine.
By the end of the meal, I had my hand on his knee and his hand kept it there.
We moved to a bar for the second round. Everyone else mixed up, but he sat next to me. More drinks went around and I made plenty of conversation to both sides of the table, but he basically kept holding my hand and downed his drink. Which was trouble.
We had to leave because he was getting very drunk. Me and another druid led him up the stairs first; got a smoke to wake him up a bit. But he would not listen to the druid’s attempts to put him in a cab. So I had to put my arms around him and half drag him to the curb. His mage friend was trying to flag down a cab. He leaned into me and held my waist underneath my sweater.
“There’s more important things than drinking together,” he kept saying.
Finally we did put him in a cab and everybody got home safe.
I had avoided any kind of contact by men, for five months, of my own accord. I felt as if I let someone touch me, talk to me, get close to me, my carefully protected world would fall apart. The fragile peace that I had built for myself would shatter: “The sky comes down. The air turns cold. The buildings go crinkle and the people go crunch.” ¹
But it didn’t. In that moment, on that evening, I was okay with it. I liked it, even. The world didn’t fall apart. And I’m going to take it as a sign that I can be vulnerable again. Because I don’t know what else I can do.
¹ Excerpt from: Daniel Price. “The Flight of the Silvers.” Great read, fascinating characters and a new premise on time.