The thing I can't say out loud
I've rewritten this intro like five times. This is the one I'm most nervous about posting, more than the fitting room, more than the lake. Those were things that happened. This one is just what goes on in my head. And somehow that feels way more naked.
Okay. Deep breath.
I think about threesomes. A lot.
Like a lot a lot. Not in a "haha wouldn't that be crazy" way. In a "I'm sitting in my 10am lecture and can't hear a single word the professor is saying" way.
It started sophomore year, I think. I don't remember a specific moment, it just kind of crept in. I'd be at a party and see two guys talking, laughing at something, and suddenly my brain would go: what if both of them. At the same time. And I'd have to go get another drink and stand in the kitchen and get it together.
Now it's constant.
There's two guys in my Wednesday seminar. Not using real names, so I'll call them Theo and Sam. They're roommates, they always sit together in the back row, and they have this whole thing where they finish each other's jokes. Theo is tall and quiet and has these forearms (I KNOW, I have a thing for arms and hands, I'm aware). Sam is shorter, louder, backwards hat every single day, and he's the type who looks you dead in the eye when he talks to you, like he's daring you to look away first.
Last Wednesday we got split into groups and I ended up with both of them. We pushed three desks together, Sam across from me and Theo next to me, and Theo's knee was touching mine under the desk the entire time. I don't think he even noticed. I noticed. I noticed for 50 straight minutes.
Sam was talking about the project and I was nodding like "mm, yeah, totally" and in my head I was somewhere completely different. In my head it was their apartment, late, after a party. Sam kissing me while Theo's hands were on my waist from behind. Not knowing whose hands were where. Just being... in between them. Being the center of all that attention.
"Hannah? You good with that?"
I blinked. Sam was looking right at me, eyebrows up.
"Yeah! Yes. Totally good."
I had no idea what I'd just agreed to. Turns out I'm doing all the slides. Fine. Worth it.
It's not just them. That's the part that makes me feel kind of crazy. Once my brain learned this trick, it does it with everyone.
My friend Kayla and her boyfriend Josh. They're the cutest couple, together since freshman year, and when we all hang out they're always draped over each other on the couch. And sometimes I catch myself watching his hand on her thigh and wondering what it would be like if I was there too. Not to steal him. Not to break anything. Just... to be included. To be wanted by both of them at once.
I would never. NEVER. Kayla's one of my favorite people on earth. But the thought shows up anyway, uninvited, at the worst times, like when she's literally handing me a slice of pizza.
And Dani. (If you read last week's post, you know.) Sometimes the fantasy is her and some guy without a face, and I'm in the middle, and I can't tell which one of them I'm looking at more.
I'm not proud of how often I think about this. I'm also not totally ashamed anymore. That part is new.
Here's why it took me so long to stop being ashamed.
My ex. I'll call him T. We dated almost a year and ended it in May. He was sweet in a lot of ways and I think I really loved him for a while. But there was one night in March that kind of broke something.
We were in his bed, after, just lying there talking. I was feeling brave and close to him, and I said, "Can I tell you something kind of weird?"
"Sure."
"Sometimes I think about... like, adding someone. Just in my head. Like a fantasy."
He laughed. He actually looked excited. "Wait, like another girl?"
And I should've just said yes. I know that now. That's what he wanted to hear and it would've been so easy.
But I said, "Or, like. Another guy."
The room got so quiet.
He sat up. "Are you serious?"
"It's just a fantasy, I'm not saying I actually want to..."
"So I'm not enough for you."
"That's not what I said."
"That's literally what you said." He was looking at me like he didn't know who I was. "That's kind of a slutty thing to want, Han. Like honestly. That's messed up."
I remember pulling the sheet up over my chest. Like I suddenly needed to cover up in front of the person I'd just been naked with for an hour.
"Forget it," I said. "I was kidding."
"Didn't sound like you were kidding."
He was weird for two weeks after that. Little comments. "Should I invite my roommate over?" in this mean joking voice. Checking my phone when he thought I wasn't looking. And the worst part is I apologized. I apologized for having a thought inside my own head.
We lasted two more months but honestly it was over that night.
For a long time I thought he was right. That something was wrong with me. That nice girls don't think about two guys at once, and if I did, I was a slut, or greedy, or broken somehow.
Then this summer happened (writing about it next week, it deserves its own post), and I came back kind of different. More okay with myself. And I started to realize the fantasy isn't actually about T not being enough. It isn't about anyone not being enough.
It's about being too much. In a good way. Wanting so much attention, so much touch, so much of being wanted, that one person physically can't hold all of it. It's about being overwhelmed. Letting go of control completely. Not having to think for once.
I don't know if I'd ever actually do it. Maybe the fantasy is better than the real thing. Maybe it'd be awkward and someone's elbow would end up in someone's face and we'd all crack up. I genuinely don't know.
But I think about it more then I think about almost anything else. In the shower. In class. At night with my hand under the covers and my eyes closed, building the whole scene from scratch, every detail. Theo's arms. Sam's eyes. The sound of a door locking.
Tuesday night I fell asleep thinking about it and woke up at 4am because I'd been dreaming about it, and I was so worked up I couldn't fall back asleep until I... took care of it. Twice. On a school night. With a 9am.
So yeah. That's me right now.
If you're reading this and someone ever made you feel gross for something that only existed in your head: it's not gross. It's yours. Nobody gets to decide what you think about at 4am.
And if you're T and somehow you found this... I hope you're doing well. Genuinely. But you were wrong.
Seminar's on Wednesday. I already know where I'm sitting.
xo, H