Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Just Another Tuesday Night


*ahem* You see, w'ha'happen wuz...

Mostly I'm just retarded. I was in a really good mood while texting a guy last week, and I agreed to have dinner with him at his apartment. I think I was maybe annoyed at someone and made the plan on purpose. {I swear, I have actually got to stop doing that.}

Honestly, though, I don't know why I said yes. I can't come up with a real explanation at all.

I'd been worried about the "dinner date" since this weekend. What if we were all alone? What if he came on to me? What if he was an actual creep? What if I was in danger? What if the food was disgusting? What if I got lost trying to find the place? What if it was awkward and I couldn't figure out how to leave?


I'd been stressing/whining to Gerard about it all day. He told me that it was probably going to be fun, but that if I felt uncomfortable or something went wrong, I just had to call him.

I was grudgingly moved by that gesture of reassurance.

I did have trouble finding the place {big surprise there}, and dinner was kinda awkward. We made fettuccine alfredo and cheese biscuits. He talks way too quietly to be heard by human ears, and is not a huge conversationalist anyway. I talked enough and was easy-going and not awkward, if I do say so myself.

He suggested we go upstairs and watch a movie while we ate. I sighed inwardly and agreed, because there was no good way around it.

We settled on The Fox and the Hound. I was glad because it was only like an hour and a half long and I still had studying to do and a lab write-up to finish.

At about 45 minutes into it, I felt arm touching my shoulder.


I actually don't know the right way to handle that. When I was thirteen I would just get up and move XD Tonight I just leaned forward, which worked for a little while, until he put his arm right around my waist and I realized I would have been better off leaning back, confining his reach to my shoulders.

Oh well. You live and learn.

Finally the movie ended at 10pm, and I heard the hallelujah chorus in my head.

I got my coat, thanked him for dinner, and headed out to the car. He said he'd walk me out. That was fine. I mean, you could literally have reached out and touched the Kia from the porch, but I appreciated the gesture.

I opened the car door and turned to hug him. We hugged, and though I didn't necessarily have reason to be wary, I kept my face turned carefully to the left, just in case...

Yeah. There were lips on my cheek.

Before I'd decided what to say, I had my hand planted gently on his chest and the sound "Uhn-uh" came out of my mouth.

"What?" he said.

I repeated the sound.

"Can I get a cheek kiss?" he asked.


"You got a boyfriend?"

"...no, but close enough that it'd be weird."

"Alright," he said. "Well, we should still do this again sometime."

"Okay," I said. "It was fun."

And after that scene, I honestly believed the statement. Now that he'd come onto me and I'd rejected him, what else was there to fear?

Sometimes, the worst that can happen is also the best.

It wasn't until I was almost back at the dorm that my statement came flashing back into my mind:  "close enough that it'd be weird."

And I couldn't for the life of me decide what I had meant.


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