I am staring at a blank page trying to figure out how to put him into words, or more accurately, how I'm going to put my feelings for him into words.

I never expected to feel this way. I never expected for any of this to happen. I keep wondering if I deserve more than this. It's not that he's mistreating me. I think I'm mistreating myself, by allowing myself to fall in love with someone who is beyond reach. He's the right person, and yet, he's also the wrong person. What is that? Irony? Paradox. He is both.

I weave my own web. The very fact that he's a flirt does not rid me of my duty to respect him and his girlfriend. I should not gloat from the attention he gives me. I am better than that, but I am as weak as they come. Another paradox.

On Friday night, we all went out dancing at Club CocoBongo in Elizabeth. Me, him, his sister, their cousins, and ofcourse his girlfriend. I still had to train with him for a few hours before we went out, and that time with him only aggravated my feelings for him. I don't know what was going through my mind. I was looking forward to going out with him to a club. I knew that I probably wouldn't dance with him. That was a fact. But I wanted to be part of his life outside the treadmills and the weights.

At first, I thought it wasn't going to happen. K called me and said the girls didn't want to go anymore. I had just gotten home from the gym and gotten out of the shower. 10 minutes later, she called back and told me to be ready by 11.
I rang the doorbell. My heart was beating like crazy when I heard him running down the stairs saying "I'm coming." He opened the door.

"Wow." First words out of his mouth. "You look really good."

I blushed, "Thank you."

He steps back to let me in and puts his hands on his waist. "So, this is the real me. Meet Y. You like?"

I wanted to say that I liked the Y at the gym. I wanted to say ofcourse I liked. I wanted to say a whole lot of other inappropriate things.

But all I said was that I only knew the Y I met at the gym, but that this was an improvement. I smiled and ran upstairs to join the rest of the girls. His girlfriend wasn't up there. She was most likely getting ready in his room. I was so glad that I didn't have to face her yet.

Everyone was getting ready in K's sister's room and I was sitting on the bed, practicing my Spanish with G. "Tu (umm) hair... es bonita." Y came into the room and asked me how my leg was doing. Earlier that night during training, he diagnosed me with shin splints. I started feeling the pain since Monday, but didn't say anything since I thought I was simply sore from the workout. Well, when I limped over to him, I got yelled at for not telling him sooner, because I could potentially get a fracture.

I told him I was fine, pointing my toes, explaining that I could even rock heels. Then he gave me THAT look, the half smirk, half raised eyebrows, half you're cute, half you're dumb LOOK. He got down on one knee. My heart skipped a beat. He started rolling up my jeans. I protested, "Y, what are you doing?!" I was afraid everyone could see my emotions straight away if he touched me, but he ignored my protests and started pressing down on my leg and massaging it.

This was not good. I didn't want him to stop, but I didn't want his girlfriend to walk in with him giving my leg a rubdown. Honestly, who does that? Perhaps it was an entirely innocent act for him. That's where boys are oblivious to rules of borders. That was crossing the line. We weren't at the gym. If we were, it would have been an entirely different story.

I'm pretty sure K's friend, who was sitting next to me, also thought Y's actions pretty strange and suspicious. I finally shook him off after a few minutes, and he only stopped with my promise that I would ice my leg in the car on the way to the club.

When G commented that I was losing weight, Y ofcourse took all the credit for it and called me his protege. I am so love with him.

We were finally on our way. I ended up sitting next to his girlfriend, but I stayed my sweet, friendly, charming Michelle self. The car ride was fun, UNTIL I saw Y reach back and hold his girlfriend's hand for a minute. I looked out the window. It happened twice. I felt myself closing in. I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate. What the hell was I doing? What was I thinking? How could I even think that I could handle witnessing them actually BE TOGETHER?

I vowed that this was going to be the last time. I would make it through the night. I just needed to breathe and ignore them.

We got to club. K's cousins passed around shots of aguardiente poured from 1 liter Aquafina bottles. I was ready to get wasted. After only 1 shot, I felt the alcohol surging through me. I was ready to get loose. I was in the zone. This club was exactly what I needed. It was crazy. In the middle of the dance floor, there was this bubble maker machine hanging from the ceiling... so people basically got soaked/soaped.

We started out on the outskirts of the dance floor, but everyone decided to move into the middle. I was following K, and Y was behind me followed by E, his gf. We started dancing. Our shoulders rubbed against one another. Our fingers grazed together. He was dancing closer and closer to me. I was moving further away. E got in front of him, dancing in between us. When E gave him some room on the dance floor, he would be right back next to me. This was the formula for the rest of the night.

I think I only looked at him maybe once or twice all night. I couldn't handle it, so I avoided it. I danced with a guy. But I knew exactly what I was doing. I saw him watching me. I wasn't going to allow him to ruin my night, but I knew that I was playing hard to get.

At one point, we were all in a circle, jumping up and down. E was standing next to me, so we were holding on to each other. Then Y moved her out of the way, and the two of us ended up holding hands instead. Every touch from him makes my heart beat uncontrollably. I thought I was going to pass out.

But I guess that's all I get. I don't get the whole thing. I get the small moments. The accidents. The leftovers? And I don't think I want that. But at the same time, I can't seem to get enough of it. That is the Y Paradox.

Labels: working out