Hen:Yeah, um, that was…I didn’t know what to think about that. If I did something to offend you that made you leave I want to apologize and say I didn’t mean to.
He thoughthe’ddone something wrong? Shiiit, I’d fucked this up.
Me:No no no! You didn’t do anything wrong, Hen! Shit, if I’d known that’s what you thought I would have said something a lot sooner. I left because I, uh.
Because Iwhat? How did I explain that I felt like I wouldn’t be welcome after pressuring him?
Me:Because I felt like I maybe kinda pressured you into doing what we did. And that you’d want some, like…time on your own? After I’d been there all day?
There was silence from the other end of the phone for a long couple of minutes before the dots started moving again.
Hen:You thought you pressured me into having sex?
How was I supposed to interpret that question? It was too neutral; he wasn’t giving me anything to read into! I swallowed and nibbled at my thumb nail.
Me:…Maybe? I mean I absolutely didn’tmeanto pressure you, and if you felt pressured at all I’m really really sorry about that and I swear I won’t make you take your pants off again, that was really inappropriate.
Me:The whole thing was probably really inappropriate, I basically invited myself over and then invited myself into your pants and then invited myself to have sex with you and we’d been drinking and…
I couldn’t stop the word vomit. I kept typing after sending the second message.
Me:And I swear I’m not that pushy usually and I won’t come on to you like that again I’m not even sure what possessed me to -
Before I could hitsendon that last one, a message from Hen popped up, interrupting my keyboard diarrhea.
Hen:Whoa. Dude. Stop.
I stopped, startled.
Hen:You didn’t pressure me into anything. I was into it. Ok I mean I wouldn’t have taken off my pants without you ordering me to, but I don’t think you did that so you could fuck me or anything. I think you genuinely were thinking about fixing the hole in my pants and then we just got caught up in the moment.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
Me:You’re not mad? Or…like, hurt, or victimized or anything?
Hen:I think I’m a little offended that you think I couldn’t make my own sex choices, to be honest. And I was definitely hurt and confused when you ran out like your ass was on fire. But was I, like, traumatized by a frotting session with you? No.
Hen:I can’t believe I just texted the word ‘frotting’ with a straight face and no hard-on. This is the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a long time. I didn’t expect to have to makeyoufeel better.
Me:…because I was the one who was the dick. Yeah, I get that. Sorry.
A new pop-up floated up over my text thread. A text from Charlie. I flipped to her thread.
Charlie:Did you text him? What did he say?
I bit my lip. This was going to be embarrassing and she wasn’t going to let me live it down for a long time, I already knew.
Me [to Charlie]:He didn’t feel pressured, but he’s pissed about me walking out on him afterward.
Charlie:Hah. Told you. You’re an idiot.
Me [to Charlie]:Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m talking to him now, I’ll ttyl.
Charlie:I expect a debrief when you’re done.
I rolled my eyes and flipped back to my conversation with Hen, who hadn’t replied to my latest. So I kept talking.
Me [to Hen]:Anyway, yeah, I just wanted to apologize for, well, everything I owe an apology for. Running away. Not texting you. Being weird about the whole thing.
