my short-lived colorado love life

i've always maintained a certain sense of privacy about my love life, or lack thereof, on my blog. it's true i like to point out how long it's been since i've been on a date and things like that, but details about specific boys i date are totally off-limits. i was in the shower this morning and thinking about that and wondering why i'm always so tight-lipped about that sort of thing, and the first thing that pops to mind is that talking or writing about something tends to jinx it. we all know how superstitious i am, and when good things are happening i try not to say anything lest it go sour. at the same time, this thing with this particular boy is jinxed right now anyhow, what with my impending move and all, so why not give you some details? besides, i'm kind of dying to talk about it. not literally, of course, but it's something i've been thinking about a lot and what the hell. it's not like i'm going to name him or anything, he doesn't know my blog exists, and this will give you the extremely rare glimpse into the part of my brain that deals with dating/boys/sex and love. (jeez, that was a long explanation. still reading?)

i met him five days ago. friends of the roommates had actually tried to set us up a few months ago, but the night we went out he was busy doing something else. these friends of friends are lovely people, and i thought it was sweet that they'd only met me once but liked me enough to want to set me up with their friend, but didn't think any more about it. last friday i got home in time to go out to dinner with my roommates, and on our way into town we called their friends and told them they should meet us. they brought tom* along.

we'd had a few drinks before meeting up with everyone for dinner, and at first i didn't pay much mind to him because they'd brought out the baby and i wanted to chew on her little cheeks and hold her tiny hands. he was cute, sure, but i wasn't looking, you know? i was wearing an old sweatshirt and my work pants still, i was moving in less than two weeks and didn't feel the need to impress him. dinner went on and on, we had all the courses and some more drinks and everyone very slyly sat us next to each other and one thing led to another and we were talking and talking and then kind of holding hands under the table and i can't even remember when it started. i think i was making a point and pushing on his knee and his hand just found mine and there it was. the friends with the baby had to take her home, and the rest of us continued going out. we went to this adorable pub named after my nephew (where my roommate and i conspired to steal a pint glass because it had his name on it. it's the perfect gift for a five month old, don't you think?), we went to this crazy karaoke/martini bar run by an old cowboy where i sang some bon jovi, we snuck kisses in when we thought no one was looking. i'd almost forgotten how fun it is to not be a third wheel.

i honestly just thought we'd make out and never see each other again. starting something so doomed seemed (seems) insane. i did stay the night at his house (i don't have a lot of time to play coy, and still don't), though, and the next morning instead of the awkward, "that was fun! see ya later!" he made breakfast, i called in sick to work, and we spent the rest of the day hanging out, napping on the couch and watching movies. he drove me home and made a date for the next day. since then, i've been trying to see as much of him as possible. i can't speak for him, but i get the same feeling from him.

even though i'm leaving soon, i feel like right now i just want to pack as much time with tom in as possible. i should be packing and labeling boxes, seeing the doctor one last time to use my insurance up, forwarding my mail, doing a million other things, but instead i like to make lists in my head of the things i like about him. i carry the phone with me from room to room in case he calls or sends me a text message, whereas before i ignored it and mildly resented it for reminding me of work. i worry if it's been a while between calls, and then feel stupidly elated when the phone rings and it's him on the caller id. of course, i don't call him because i am neurotic about the phone and don't call anyone, but i especially can't call him because everything i say is so impossibly stupid. there are gaps the conversation where you can only hear the hum of the phone, and the more i struggle for something witty or smart to say the longer the pauses last. i like to think of myself as independent and with enough self esteem not to worry too much about what other people think, but when he tells me i'm pretty i feel like i won some prize. the only people who've told me i'm cute in the past year have been people related to me, and hearing it come out of his face made me think, "really? you think so?" i like the way he holds my hand and opens up doors for me, i like stretching out in bed and pushing my foot up against his before falling back asleep, i like the spray of freckles he has on his collarbone and i even like his dog. he has dimples you could drive a truck into and for some reason i never realized how much i fucking love dimples, and his smile is wide and clear and he's not stingy with it. we talk about old horror movies and rob zombie, he tells me stories about the kids he works with (he's an elementary school teacher), and we talk about our families. we joke about our horrible timing, but not about the move itself. i can't say anything about it to him, it feels mean to me. i feel guilty about missing my people and home, and i don't want to know how he feels about it. either he's okay with it or he would rather i stay, and in both cases i'd end up feeling shitty. i want him to like me enough to want me to stay, but i can't expect it and shouldn't want it. it's a selfish thing, and let's assume he does want me to stay, what would i do about that? i can't even think about it, much less talk about it. ignoring it probably isn't the greatest strategy i've come up with, but it's the only one i have now.

this was the longest post ever. i hope it wasn't terribly boring for you. i promise the next time i talk about tom, i'll get to the point and won't spend so much time explaining every little detail. maybe. i'll try, anyhow.

*obviously, not his real name. oddly enough, i've never actually dated a tom, but my sister did in high school and i loved that boy.