lovefool

2011-01-30 11:22 p.m.

It's happening again. I'm developing feelings despite my best efforts not to and carefully maintained frigidity.

And again, it's the most absurd thing. I barely know the guy, though I suppose we've been talking for quite a few months now. Face to face contact/interaction has been minimal.

He's flaked on me before, and ahem, has a girlfriend. There have also been some other indicators that he might not be the best person. But oh hell.

I really wish I hadn't spent time with him. Then I wouldn't have ever experienced how fun it was to be with him, and how seemingly perfect he is. All these things he did struck at soft spots I have, and we just seemed to get along together so damn well. I couldn't stop thinking it was my damn bad luck that I didn't meet him sooner, live closer, etcetera (this is starting to sound uncomfortably similar to the Dumberg Debacle).

He picked me up from my old apartment in his adorable but mismatched mini cooper. I was nervous and didn't really make eye contact with him or hug him when I got in the car. We bumbled around trying to get the car through the security gate, and this will sound strange, but it was cute and I knew he was funny when he tried to run me over. I admitted it would sound strange! He parked and we wandered around the complex until I decided that I wanted to find a way to the rooftop to have a cigarette. We got to the top level of the parking garage and each had a cigarette. An unusual thing that really matters to me is if a guy judges me for smoking or not, and he didn't. We talked for a long time about everything from here to there: he was born in Frankfurt, I've taught my grandma how to use “fail”, some low points we've had in the past year, how many pairs of tights I have, scars we have, crazy uncles, etcetera.

We were interrupted by a lifted truck full of what I presume were bros blasting Eminem. He started dancing along jokingly, and they thought we were serious. They looked like they were about to come over to us, and I decided that was the time to leave. We went downstairs to grab some beers from the fridge, and then he just had to have some Del Taco. I warned that I would go only if he drove, which I regret now, because he is a terrible driver! He was about to make a left turn while the light was red, but I wouldn't let him, and he blew through stop signs without hesitating! He barely paid attention, but I'm pardoning that because he was busy singing Discovery, Andrew Bird, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Carla Bruni, and whatever else I put on. He has the best singing voice of any guy I've ever known, and I tried to hide my swoon when he did the orgasmic yelps along with Karen O in “Date With The Night”.

He tried to get me to eat a third dinner, and I'm usually not one to say no to free food and a gluttonous good time, but I've never been a fan of Del Taco. I only let him get me fried cheesecake bites, which were enough.

We thought about driving to an interesting spot in Irvine, but couldn't think of any place, and so returned to the rooftop. It was awkward because there was a couple in the car next to us apparently on a date, and it felt a bit like “Lovers' Lane”. We tried to ignore the awkwardness by making light of the situation, laughing about how we were probably cock-blocking them. We talked some more while he ate and both drank the beers I had gotten. We riffed a lot, which is amazing to me because I can count on one hand the number of friends who can successfully start, develop and carry inside jokes with me. He was equally impressed with my devil-may-care attitude about crude jokes and his teasing. I just dished it right back, and I hope I'm not being too self-indulgent by thinking he liked it.

I also don't know if I was imaging this, but he kept looking at me, in a particular way, like he was studying me, or couldn't stop looking. He had a small smile on his lips each time he looked at me. I've never noticed anyone looking at me with affection, if it's ever even happened in my life, so I'm not sure what it looks like, and if this was what that was.

It just about killed me when he started rapping Weezy for me.

I'm not going to lie. I really wanted to kiss him. I don't know how he felt, but it drove me crazy to be so close, grazing each other a hundred times, and to not do anything. He kept touching my legs, I kept touching his arm, etc. I didn't want to be that terrible person, that other girl, especially the conscious one. That's the worst, when you know and you commit the crime anyways. I will confess I invited him to sleep over - in an ambivalent tone though, not implying anything. Just in case he wasn't feeling up to driving, because we had been drinking – he longer and more than me, and it was past 3 am.

In the end, I sabotaged myself and the whole thing by very subtly bringing up his girlfriend. We ended the night on a hug, which I told him was kind of a big deal because I hate hugging people. I only hug when I really mean to express affection for the recipient. It's so rare that my ex-roommate Nima was actually scared whenever I hugged him. I finally got to bed at 4.30 am, but didn't sleep until 5.30 am. I was exhausted, but I couldn't stop turning the night over in my head, and wishing things could turn out differently.

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