Doubt

Look at me dreaming of you
All I could hope is to have you
To have you walking with me
Laughing so in love, we two
Almost drunkenly
I did imbibe of this
Fantasy of you and me

Was I a fool to think?
The way you looked at me
I swear you did
But you looked away too quick
Was I a fool, was I a fool to think
That you would take me home
As if I was yours
Was I a fool to think at all?
--DMB

Checking flights to Seattle daily. Considering spending $300 that I don’t have. Texting sweet things while I should be working. Rush of blood to the face at every message. Whole nights spent thinking about how lovely it will be when we’re finally together. And then the doubt seeps in… am I fool? Am I a fool to think at all?

Oh The Possibilities

I told him on gchat that I loved chipwiches.

A couple days later, while in Chicago en route to a family wedding in Iowa, he sent me the photo at left signed "Chip-wichfully yours, P."

When I opened the email at work the next morning, I gasped, shook my head in disbelief, and laughed to myself. Could he be any more thoughtful? adorable? sweet?

He moves here in a week. I guess I will just have to wait and see.

A Lesson in Chemistry

The spark. The chemistry. The connection. It screws me every time. With E. it forced me to pretend his relationship with his ex-girlfriend didn’t bother me. With J.C. it pushed me into believing that he’d want a relationship eventually, even though he told me flat out he didn’t. With J. I overlooked his blatant lack of interest in my personal life because of it. How far am I willing to go for this apparent spark?

It is currently forcing me away from “real life” guys… the Long Distance Crush. When my phone rang on Tuesday night and my caller ID announced his name, my heart ‘duh-dunk’ed straight past my lungs and out through my rib cage. Texts, Facebook messages, yes. Phone calls? Never. For a millisecond I considered letting it go to voicemail. And then I answered. “Heeey,” I cooed happily. “What are you doing?”

We talked about the weekend, about his potential layoff, about moving to California, and about everything in between. After an hour he finally announced that he should probably go. “I’ll talk to you later, though,” he promised. I hung up and collapsed face first on my bed… grumbled out loud, “Oh God, this is bad.”

The spark. I felt it with the LDC two years ago and this weekend the spark turned into a tiny little flame. Birthday candle sized. With the phone call he fed the flame enough to turn it into a campfire. And now what? Was I supposed to continue on with this painful non-relationship and ignore the men in my life who could actually take me out to dinner and cuddle with me on the couch? These men who have all of the skills but none of the sparkle? I have never known how far to go for this feeling… maybe I never will.

Unanswered questions

"Oh, so it looks like you're serious huh? I must meet him! What's the point of it all if I don't meet him! Next time you must bring him, otherwise how can I approve of him and how can it work!"
"Haha, yea, I know, next time."
"Yea, without my approval no marrying any boys no matter how great they are!"
"Marrying?! Who said anything about marrying?"
"What?"
"Um. I'm thinking of asking him to come with me next time so he can meet my friends and family here, but..."
"So - you're not getting married?"
"No! I mean, I don't know, who knows. I haven't thought about it. We haven't thought about it. It's too soon. I mean, I don't want to think of it yet."
"Oh. But. But then?"
"What do you mean 'but then'?"
"Well no, I mean, I just thought...since you're meeting each other's families and stuff. You're thinking of bringing him half-way across the world to see your home, meet everyone. You're going on vacation with his family..."
"Yea but I mean..."
"No, I mean, I just wondered. I mean, I thought you guys were serious."
"Yes, we are, of course, but just. I mean. Well in any case who has the time to think of all these things, I can barely take responsibility for myself, let alone a whole marriage! Forget about it! Haha, let's get my sister married off first, and what about YOU, Miss-I-don't-like-anyone! Let's get you married off first!"

I laughed, we joked about how her uber-conservative slightly cross-eyed neighbor would be the perfect match. Swine flu is taking over the world, the rains weren't enough this year, her upcoming trip.

I have no answers to her questions. She doesn't see the point of dating if you're not going towards a goal: namely, marriage. I don't see how you can make that goal unless you're with someone for a while.

We never finished that conversation.

If It Kills Me, If It Kills Me, It Might Kill Me...

“I remember the first time I met you.” Few lines resonate in me the way this one does. He remembers. He remembers me. He remembers me before I thought twice about him.

The long distance crush. Six months later, only our second meeting. He put his hand on my lower back and it was like shouting out loud in an empty warehouse, “I like you!” The tiniest gesture that had the greatest meaning.

Three months later, a Facebook message. “I’m kinda upset we never hooked up.” Blunt, juvenile, intoxicated. And the follow up: “Hey, sorry about that drunken Facebook.” I shouldn’t have been flattered but I was. This unspoken attraction that had been going on for almost a year was now vocalized. Pinwheels spun inside my chest.

And then began the downward spiral. He sent messages every once in awhile, asking how I was and what I was doing. The next time I saw him was a year and a half after our initial meeting and his new girlfriend joined him at the New Year’s party. Despite the other woman, he sought me out to ask when I was moving to Seattle, to put his number in my phone (“for when I’m in New York next time”), to make it clear once more that he was interested. Cue pinwheels.

By the time I left Seattle, the first month of 2009, I knew this was someone who wouldn’t disappear from my life so easily. And then began the texts. Late at night, in the middle of the afternoon, first thing in the morning. To say hi, to ask about the New York weather, to tell me he was thinking about me. We started e-mailing so we could write in more detail about what we were going through in our jobs, in our families, in our lives. From physical attraction to sincere friendship. Then he planned his trip to New York and told me he couldn’t wait to see me. He started texting me every day to remind me that the day was getting closer.

He arrived in town, staying with our mutual friend. While everyone suspected she was in love with him, she denied it and denied it, over and over again. “Does it bother you that he and I keep in touch?” I asked her once. She assured me it didn’t. I was giddy to see him. I felt his eyes on me at the bar and caught his smile from across the table. Two years of waiting for this moment and it was closing in on me like a hurricane.

Friday night. At the bar. He kissed me. Finally. Two years in the making. It was perfect. He told her he wanted to leave with me, that he liked me. She started to cry. “What?” he asked. “Why?” “Because,” she answered. “I like you.”

And you know what they say about the best laid plans…

Perfect

c/o rockstar diaries

And it's you I hear, so loud and so clear

Waiting inside the cool shelter of the movie theater, two tickets in my shaky little hand. Should’ve washed my face. He walks in, smiles, goes in for the hug immediately. He always seems relieved to see me.

Slink down in sticky movie seats, gnoshing on popcorn, completely at ease when the kernels tumble down my shirt. He couldn’t care less.

With every reach for the popcorn tub my arm brushes his. Does he notice? He must notice. On purpose? On purpose. He makes no motion to move the tub closer to me. Skin on skin. The touch barrier broken. The second date.

“That was a great movie.”
“I know, I loved it.”
“Depressing.”
“I guess.”
“She was horrible. So selfish.”
“Eh… she was just being honest.”

The short walk home. He should go left but takes the right, walking alongside me without being asked. Face to face. Leaning in. The first kiss. Turning away, walking up the stairs, opening the door, and grinning all the way.