Breaking Strain - CL Post

I've never done anything with another girl before. I've wanted to since at least puberty. It's amazing what you can put off.

I've had happy relationships with guys. One of them I envisioned going the distance. I could see us together down the whole corridor of years. I could see us with kids. Christmas mornings and hot cocoa and summers at a lake somewhere. I could see myself kissing skinned little knees and making them better. Yeah yeah, I know it's the 21st century and you don't actually need a guy for those things anymore, but it was easy enough to picture my life playing out with one anyway. I could have done that. And all these other things I wanted would've just stayed packed away in their little box, labeled with masking tape: wouldn't it be nice?

I came across a metaphor in some self-help book, years ago, about how elephants can be kept on leashes made of twine, which they could break with about a twentieth of their strength if they ever tried. The way it works is, when the elephant is very young, its handlers secure it with a heavy chain it can't break. The elephant gets used to that. Over time they downgrade the chain, even as the elephant grows. By the time it's an adult, and weighs three or four times as much as a Cadillac Escalade, they've got it tied up with a rope you couldn't use to tow a water-skier. It's not that the elephant doesn't want to break free. Of course it wants to. It just doesn't occur to the elephant that it can.

I probably read that three years ago. Why I didn't make the jump right then, I don't know. I really don't. I was here in the city, in school. I could've put an ad on craigslist and had my face buried between a girl's thighs that night.

Just didn't occur to me that I could. As badly as I wanted it.

Why am I making the jump now?

I don't really know that, either. I guess the twine just finally broke. I woke up this morning and stared at my ceiling for about five minutes, and realized I could picture all the fantasies as actual events. That it was all waiting to be real, as soon as I decided.

So I just did. Ahhh. Huge sigh, right? I put this ad on CL fifteen minutes ago:

looking to finally try it - 24 - Near North

24, white, 5-foot-1, skinny. Brown hair, big brown eyes. Very nervous but definitely sure I want to try it with a girl. Write back, tell me about yourself, will share a pic after we trade a few e-mails. Happy to voice verify.

So now I've got gmail open in the taskbar, and I'm staring at the word inbox, waiting for a little (1) to appear beside it, while I write this.

I am absolutely sure I've never been this anxious or excited about anything. My teeth are literally chattering--what the hell is that about? Wasn't expecting it. I put on a big sweater and cranked up the heat.

Will update when there's a reply.

UPDATE:

First reply came in twenty-five minutes after I put up the post. I bounced up and down in my chair a few times and then clicked on it.

It was written in halting English, and everything about it sent up flags. I've read all about spam replies. This had to be one. Shit...

Another reply came two minutes later.

Not spam. Definitely real. There was a picture with it, and the message seemed very authentic. But... ahh... I just didn't respond to her looks. I feel bad about that, but what am I supposed to do? I have to be comfortable with someone.

I didn't reply to her. I hope that's okay. Shit. That was probably five minutes ago now. Inbox clear. Watching for the (1) again. Will update.

UPDATE 2:

Two replies at the same time, just now. Another spam message, and another one that I'm sure is real. No pic, but her description more or less matches mine. She's 21, and describes herself as "very feminine." Well... that's what I've always fantasized about. I sent her a pic, and now I'm waiting for her to reply. I'll just keep this post open until she does.

...

Just got her reply, with her picture. Holy shit. holy shit, I'm really going to do this. I'm seriously, actually going to do this. It's going to happen.

So... fucking... cute. And it's not some insane, airbrushed, glamor shot that screams fake. Very real, very random picture of her smiling somewhere, other people cropped out. She looks a little like a girl from my high school, named Seana (SHAW-NA). I'll use that name instead of her real name, here.

She gave me her number. I'm going to call her right now.

UPDATE 3:

:) :) :) She lives five blocks away. We're meeting for coffee. Right now!!!

Gah!!!!!!! Really, really doing this!!!