You stare at me all night in the bar and finally get the courage to stop my friend and ask her if I'm single. She, of course, whispers this in my ear, but I've already seen you staring at me for at least an hour and I'm amused and curious about your mixture of boldness and shyness. We have mutual friends. It's New Year's Eve. There's no better day of the year to meet someone than New Year's Eve. We've known each other for a while and there has always been this blistering sexual tension. It's always made me wonder. We meet and there's something there. Something about you strikes me. Something about me strikes you.
You say you will call and you call. Already a gigantic hurdle cleared. We go out. We meet for a walk. We go for coffee as we always have. We meet for lunch and you ask me what I am doing that night and do I want to go to a movie. (Really are you serious? We'll make a day of this?) You say you have a great time. That you want to see me again. And again. And again. That you can't wait to. We kiss. Likely. Because that's kinda how I am. Sometimes you kiss me first. Sometimes I kiss you first. I corner you on the front steps. Behind the bar. Sitting on the floor in the basement. Sometimes I wish I could kiss you first but I'm not allowed to. Not today.
You say: When are you planning on getting married? (What!?) How many kids do you want to have? (What! What! It's only been a week!). What kind of relationship do you want? You're amazing. Your beautiful. Hey good lookin'..... Have a great day. You independent intimidating intelligent woman you. (Ooh intimidating. Oh yeah, those were my words. You're teasing me with alliteration. You seem to know who I am.) Things are getting really comfortable between us. Light the candles around the room. I feel really comfortable with you. I want to hear what kind of music you listen to. (Really?) There is something I want to show you if you are willing to learn. I'm really looking forward to sharing this with you. Yeah I'll change my shift and come to that concert. Anything just to be with you. I want to say something but I'm not sure I should. I really feel like I could be falling in love with you (Really? It's only been a couple weeks. This is too soon.) Listen to this song, it is one of my favorites. I'll sing you a song. I have a story to tell you but not until November. (But it's September....??) You open the bag and there is a bottle of wine hidden. (No one has done anything like this for me before.) It's a heartbreaking story.
You grab my hand. (I'm not prepared. I'm sure it was hard for you to lose your father. It feels good that you could share that with me.) You call me twice a day just to say hello. (I like this and I'm starting to believe you could be for real.)
(I give in. I have feelings for you too. I love you. I want you.)
And it turns. Overnight.
You say: Maybe you shouldn't come over tonight. Sorry I was with my buddies. I didn't think you'd still be up. You know I lost $300 when I gave up that shift. (I'm upset and you know it) but you have to tell me about your road rage incident instead. (Hey I'm waiting here. How much longer are you going to be?) You're too insecure. Sorry I haven't talked to you today. I'm in a bit of a bad mood. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have said that. I think we need to back things off a bit. I had no idea you felt that way about me. It's very flattering. (Am I 12?) I don't need to talk to my girlfriend every day. I don't do the dating thing. I was with you but 30 minutes later I was thinking about someone else. I need some space. It's your fault. Of course I could f%$k you and have it mean nothing. (You are lying to yourself.) I didn't mean it like that. Why are you so needy? (Are you KIDDING me?)
You disappear. I don't hear from you at all. I corner you, at your work, on the phone when you can't duck my call, at the corner of two highways. (What is going on?!!!)
And which of the following constitutes an acceptable excuse for this treatment:
a) I'm not ready.
b) My ex-girlfriend called me and told me she's pregnant.
c) I'm still in love with my ex.
d) Any of the above are acceptable.
e) None of the above are acceptable. They are all Bull Sh&t.
I'm not 12 and neither are you. You are 16, 19, 20, 21, 25, 38, 43, 46, 55 and everything in between. I wonder what is wrong with you. How could you give this up? How could you give me up? I feel like I am impaling myself trying to save you. According to you the other one was lying, cheating, neurotic, manipulative, impossible, crazy, high maintenance, she wouldn't let you out of her sight and then she wanted you gone. So you say.
How is it, then, that I only get to be the consolation prize?
And this is how you write fiction. You write what you can't blog about and you make 10 sound like one.