19/09/26 - DON'T COME IN

kinda feels like a high, i don't know. it's 2:00AM, i've been trying to sleep to no avail. you were at my doorstep like an hour ago. to collect your camera, you'd left with B. my mother and father are fast asleep in their bedroom. i went outside to throw something away, and you came up the elevator. you saw me in my leopard print pyjamas, post-facemask glow, cocoa butter slathered on my limbs. you followed behind me, probably saw how the shorts barely covered my ass. how i wasn't wearing a bra. if you're on my turf, i decide how you perceive me. i'm walking sex at all times, and just don't know what to do about it.

you look at me, waiting at the threshold of my flat, in the corridor where my mother's garden coils all over the concrete. "nice house," you say, peering inside, "i like the lights." there's the gate between us, and i hand you the camera, and a ziplock bag with two cookies i had made a while back. you grasp my hand through the grate to get your stuff. just something for the trouble, for the journey home. you drove all this way, alone, for a glimpse of me. you looked like you wanted me to ask you to stay longer, but i was guarded and a little afraid. the thrill of possibly getting caught is a post-experiencial reaction. you smile and say, "yes!" when i give them to you. "when are you going to invite me inside?" i smile, and i say: "sunday, if you want." you nod.

"good luck for your game tomorrow." i tell you, to end the conversation even though i want you to stay. you shift, imperceptibly as though you're going to give me a hug, but theres the gate between us. you smile and leave. i watch through the window of my living room as you walk to your car, and drive off. three minutes. three minutes, an hour ago. and my sleep is gone.

i told B, i told him immediately and i texted him about how i remembered: i was in this situation once. you'd brought me to your condominium estate, to get me a gift. it was a pack of cigarettes that same day we climbed the tree. you didn't want your family to see me, so we wandered around the estate with thumping hearts at the prospect of being caught. we are always so close to coming inside (haha). but we never do. you know me so intimately, have seen me so intimately and yet there is this distance. you saw me with sleep-tousled-yet-sexy hair, playing stardew valley on my living room tv without even going inside. i saw where you swim, where you gym, where you sit and read, wearing the shorts and shirt you lounge around in.

film camera, seven star cigarettes, cookies. it doesn't fucking matter. we chew meat and pass it back and forth but we can never give each other what we swallow. you may not come to my house on sunday. you may not enter ever, maybe. i don't know. you invite me over to your house to watch mullholland drive when no ones at home and i keep declining because i'm hot for this movie and what if your mother walks into my hand in your pants on her couch? on sunday, if you do come, you will meet my mother, who is less than impressed by your presence. i don't know. no point. just wanted to say that.