First Comes Love…pt 2

It’s been a minute guys. So sorry, but I’m back!

So, where did we leave off? Right, the curb kiss. They we were standing by his black, Honda Civic, in a total haze, wondering how the hell we were going to put a moratorium on this evening. I gave him a quick side hug, and semi-jogged to my car in fishnets and heels. I was known to be fairly conservative on my top half but slightly more adventurous on the bottom. On the way home I thought about just how ridiculous I was being. “The Guy” is 15 years older than me. What the heck could he possibly want with me? I’d later find out. We parted ways for the evening and on my 25 minute drive home, I could not get the thought of that kiss out of my head. So I whipped out my trustee Samsung Blackjack (It was 2007, people!!) and penned him the cutest text I could muster, “I seriously can only think about the next time you’ll kiss me so softly and sweetly.” It was perfect! Short, to-the-point and conveyed the message that I was all about more. I waited…and waited. And then I waited some more. And as any 23 year old would do, I began to panic. Is he mad? Is he freaking out? Will he speak to me tomorrow at work? OMG!!! I fucked up! Somehow I found it so easy to shoulder whatever blame I had manufactured in my head. And just like that, the return text came. “We probably shouldn’t have done that.” Ok. To use the word devastated would be putting it far too lightly. I had developed a hard core crush on someone who was 1. Emotionally unavailable, 2. New in town and new on the job and trying to navigate his way through the newness, and 3. Potentially uninterested in ole’ kissy face over here.

To use the word “devastated” was putting it far too lightly!”

I went to work the next day, shut my door and attempted to leave my feelings on the other side. But there he was; still smiling, still flirting at the microwave and still being the numb nuts I had a crush on. We navigated our way through the awkwardness with quiet hello’s and shortened glances in the hallways. But truth be told, I was exhausted. I wanted him and I wanted him to want me. I didn’t know how that would happen though.

“We had been actively drifting part for so long, why was it so painful now?”

Then came the 4th of July, 2007. I’ll make this short. My then boyfriend who I refused to let go of, came to my apartment, dropped a bag of my things, and told me it was over. And just like that he was back to his reclusive ways. I was markedly devastated, but I couldn’t really pin point why. We had been actively drifting apart for so long, why was it so painful now? Was it the pain of being twice rejected? 10 years later, I still don’t know. But what I do know is that I had to go back to work and act like I was fine. I wasn’t fine and That Guy noticed. I was randomly fighting back tears daily. I worked most of the days away with my door shut. Finally he came and asked if I was ok. Not, what happened, but are you ok? I told him I’d be fine and he invited me to dinner. I was fine. We started hanging out on a regular basis. Dinners, movies,  (we saw Hornton Hears a Who and fell asleep, but I digress), overnights at his place. Just lots of fun. I was having fun. I hadn’t had it in years. Then, one day he walked into my office, put a grocery store bag full of my random things left at his place in the chair in front of my desk, and said, “I can’t do this” and walked out.

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