I met him in such an awkward way. Sitting at home at my desk, the light of the computer screen my only one at that hour. MySpace was a big deal then. I had just gotten off work, and was having a few beers with Johnny Walker on my own. And I was browsing some profiles when I saw his. His title was that of a 'he-man-woman-hating' type. So I messaged, just to be friendly, nothing else seeing as how I couldn't see his face in the picture he had. Just...an eye, really.
Back and forth for what seemed like minutes were hours.
It made me wonder if he was that way with everyone he'd talked to on there. Perhaps he wondered the same about me. I can't recall completely how long after we spoke. But he would throw out the 'dare' of a stalker that ought to be in the bushes outside the window of his room. So after finding out how his last gf. cheated on him and how he had the worst thoughts in the world about women, and that there were no good ones left, I found myself, unfortunately all but sober, at that bush, at some ungodly hour. Tapped on the window, and there he was. Tall, slender, most beautiful, penetrating blue eyes I ever saw. I don't even know if I knew his name, but I went in, meandered my way to his dimly lit room, and ...ah, the bed.
And that was it.
I passed out in this stranger's bed. Everything after that was....just...
Weeks went by..we'd seen each other every now and then and it didn't phase me when I hadn't. If he didn't call. I didn't mind. If he didn't text, didn't bother me.
But whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, he called. And I was there. Oh, yes, there was a great amount of attraction. I loved his voice. So calm. Almost soothing. Time had passed and I found myself on Christmas Eve of 04?...I was at my parents enjoying the celebrating that happens yearly for my Dad's birthday. But before the drinks, the food, the undoubted chaos that would come, I found myself on the driveway of that house, waiting for him to come outside. I had grown accustomed to that red truck of his. In my hand, a card and a rose.
As a female, I found myself completely smitten with the idea of giving a single rose to that 'special someone'. I've always loved it. I love getting flowers. It shows me, that at some point in that person's day, they found time to think of me. Not just a text, ... but a real thought. And they wanted to share with me that I was on their mind.
But I stood there as I watched him stroll outside, down the driveway and to the rear of his parked truck, I gave him a hug, and handed him the rose and the card and said I couldn't stay. I wish I had said it better. "I like you a lot..." but I didn't. The card didn't say it any simpler either. But I didn't know how to talk to the opposite sex yet. I didn't know I had to spell it out for them instead of the cloak-n-dagger deal.
Guys were simpler than I gave them credit for and I didn't know that yet. I...had my own fantasy of what people who chase people do when they want someone. To swoon. To woo them.
I like letting someone know they're appreciated, thought of.
That was possibly the last night I saw him...
Because I knew then...
But ..my secret was...I had moved on without actually 'moving on'...I didn't forget him.
That relationship was possibly 2 months in. Maybe less. The details of it all, maybe I'm too ashamed to remember them. But my heart wanted what I was looking at. I thought about him too frequently not to. Not sexually. But just ...Maybe it was infatuation. It wasn't the first time I looked at a man, not a boy, and had wonderous thoughts about him. I've done that with men, older than my parents, in all truth.
But I felt something for him. With him.
...Oh for me to dig out the books I have, the pages I've written to him, for him, about him.
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