January 6, 2013
I don’t even know where to begin at how fucked up this story is. I guess I could start off with the fact that this guy is really cute, has multiple degrees, has a great job, and is a complete gentleman, but if that was it then I guess I could just stop typing now. If that was the end of the story…well then it wouldn’t be my life.
A year and a half ago is when we became Facebook official friends (whatever that means). I’m not even sure why I added him. I didn’t know him. I had seen him out at the club once or twice and I thought he was cute, but I had never said a word to him. Fast forward to last week and it’s almost like we’re strangers. You know that app? The gay one? Grindr. Yeah, we all know what it is, and yes it’s used for many reasons, hooking up, dating, friends…etc. Well, last week we exchange our first words…on Grindr. Just a simple “Hey”, “How are you?”, “You’re cute.” kind of messages. That’s when we recognize each other. So the next night we make plans for me to come over, watch a movie, and have some dinner.
When I pulled into his driveway the next day I got this strange feeling like I had been there before. I cautiously walk up to the door and knock a few times. Between the time I knocked and time it took him to come to the door, in that 15 second window, it hit me -kind of like what concrete would feel like if someone threw me out of an actual window. Ihadbeen there before. Just once. About 7 months prior. I’m not completely proud of the reason I had been there before. It was for a hookup. We all have a past, we all want to have some fun, and we also have those moments that we feel alone. On that summer day I was meeting a guy, but the guy I met was not the same guy who was about to open his front door and greet me…
He opens the door and I push the thought to the back of my mind, because if that’s all I can think about I’ll probably be acting like a complete and total spazz the whole time. After a couple drinks and a bit of conversation I figured it out. The guy I had met over the summer was indeed his ex. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together because he mentioned his ex a couple times and mentioned why they broke up, because he was cheating on him.
He then gives me, the most indecisive person on the face of the planet, the task of picking out a movie. Luckily, his tiny collection of old DVDs made it much less difficult to choose. So I see Reese Witherspoon and Sarah Michelle Gellar on the cover an old 90’s movie and I’m SOLD. I mean what gay man doesn’t have a girl crush on Elle Woods and Buffy the Vampire Slayer?? Cruel Intentions, the name of film, never seen it before and it turns out it’s his favorite movie of all time (his favorite movie soundtrack, favorite actress, based in his favorite city, and it has his favorite car in it, a Jaguar XK140 Roadster). But let’s be honest, the title couldn’t be more spot on.
I can barely pay attention to the movie, partly because the guy sitting next to me is really cute, and yet all I can think about is how I had sex with his ex-boyfriend…in the same house. Again I decide that now isn’t the time to bring that up, I like the guy and I don’t want to scare him away by spilling my deepest, darkest secrets on the first date. I’m not sure we actually finished the movie, because by the end we were cuddled up next to each other in his bed, about to fall asleep, and I realize that 90% of our clothes were on the floor. At that point I suppose it was decided, I was spending the rest of my night and the next morning curled up next to him.
The morning comes, and no, I’m not curled up next to him like I envisioned. I’m at the edge of the bed with one arm over the side and my legs turned sideways diagonally across the bed, looking extra classy I’m sure. It’s 9 am on Sunday morning and we both kind of look at each other like, fuck this, I’m tired and I want to sleep in. So we squeeze back together and stay there until 12:49pm. 0 fucks were given.
Yeah, I know it’s lunch time, but he turns to me and asks, “How do you like your eggs?” I think about it for a second and go with what’s easy, “Scrambled I guess.” Then he smiles a crooked smile, “Good because that’s all I know how to make.” We laugh a little bit and finally get out of bed, but that goofy crooked smile is all I can see in the back of my mind.
I still wasn’t completely sure how to process my feelings when I left his house after breakfast, but somewhere on the drive home listening to some Lana, I decided I wanted to see this guy again, and again, and probably some more after that. And that’s what I did, I spent 3 more nights with him during the week and I finally built up the courage to tell him the truth about me and his ex. That’s a story within itself. I’ll save that for next week.
He seemed perfect, if it wasn’t for a few small details I left out. He’s almost a decade older than me, and this morning I drove 400 miles away, back to college. Winter break is over; it’s time to go back to the real world.
8 years and 400 miles separate us now, and I’m still not sure what to do.