Friday, March 31, 2006
I have a crush.
It started about four months ago. I was a wreck after ending a relationship. I felt like a failure. I wanted to change my ways. I was despearate for answers. I went to the one place I never thought I would meet a man.
Alanon.
But there he was.
I didn't see him until he spoke, but when he spoke he sounded so healthy that it made me swoon.
I left feeling lifted.
Every week, I would see him. But seeing him was only a partial thrill. It was hearing him speak. He was so wise.
After class, a collection of women would gather around him. But not me. I walked away. Content with my fantasty of his perfection.
Then one day, we spoke.
I was like a thirteen year old. I said stupid things, my armpits sweat.
He rode the elevator down to the lobby with me and then he got off and we exchanged some stupid banter.
"I have to bring this book back upstairs."
"I have to go. "
"Well, ok. Listen, you mentioned you would be in DC for the next few months. I may be in DC in the next few months."
"Well if you are, you should call me and we can go for a coffee."
"I will."
We stood there. Awkwardly.
"Oh God." I rummaged through my bag searching for a card.
"Here." I thrust a dog eared card I found at the bottom of my purse into his hand.
"Okay. Well. Thanks."
That was it.
He turned, I turned. Gone.
I was sure that I would never hear from him again, but I skipped down the street outside anyways.
Two days after my arrival in DC I got an email from him.
"...just checking in on you."
I called my friend Carpe. She didn't answer. I tried to practice restraint of pen. It worked for about three minutes. I wrote him back. I looked up his profile on Friendster. He was still cute. Then I realized he was going to see that I had looked at him. Now I had to send him a message. So I did. But then I realized how stupid it was going to look that I just sent him two messages and basically cyber stalked him.
Carpe called back. She told me to chill the fuck out.
She said I probably blew it. I think so too.
Next day, no email. I blew it.
Next day, a page long e-mail filled with questions after question after question.
I have a crush.
Labels: Boy Stories, Internet Dating, Pop Culture Casualty, Sober
