On fascination.

So I’m on my first acid trip currently, but I suppose that’s not really what this is about. And this will probably resolve itself in a week anyways. This is more about the boy I dropped acid with tonight.

I’ve known him for a week, when we drunkenly met each other “for the first time” even though I knew that he had been asking our friends about me for a couple of weeks. We spent the next night at a party where when a drunk friend suggested that we “fuck and get it over with,” he turned to me and said “Please, don’t just sleep with me. With you that could fuck me up.” He then made out with every girl that walked up to him that night, but he ended up going home with me.

This week has just been a crazy blur of hanging out with him and his friends, and he is one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met. There are still other girls, but it’s been only a week and I’d be a totally weirded out if he just cut everyone else out right now.

Today/night we dropped acid together a couple of different times, and spent the day adventuring, introducing music to each other, talking about life, having sex, and rambling on. So what we’ve been doing together all week. When he dropped the second hit though, he did a line of coke with it. After that he left me in his room by myself to use the bathroom, and then disappeared for 45 minutes. When he came back he apologized and said he just needed to adventure and go where the night took him, and I totally understood. He walked me home and now the acid won’t let me sleep and my head won’t let me stop thinking about him.

I guess my question is, is a guy like him someone I should let into my life in a completely romantic way? Or should he be that experimental welcome-to-college head fuck that teaches me a little bit more about life that I think of fondly just for that? Or am I just dumbly asking you to predict the future here?

You’ve got a head full of acid, but what you’re high on is fascination. Don’t worry, it’ll wear off.

In the meantime, have fun, and never forget that the object of your fascination is less important than your capacity for it.

Sweet dreams, sugarplum.


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