After a long sleepless night, I woke up to an answer:
Thank you for telling me, I really appreciate it.
Just so you know - could have kissed a girl tonight - but I didn't.
But we did say we were single, so I suppose I will have to live with it.
Love you
Which is not too bad, considering. However, coming from the Beautiful Boy I knew, usually so emotive and effusive with language and sharing, this was terribly brusque. I felt relieved, but still sad. Afraid that I’d broken the tenuous magic between us.
I faced the day head-on, trying to trust that all would work out as it should. We shared a few more messages, each one a little lighter and friendlier than the last. By the end of the day, I rushed home to answer his phone call.
He teased me about the Other Boy, calling me names and professing shock at my low moral stance. He carried on about how hot the French girls were and how they just loved his little accent.
And then he asked me out.
Like a schoolboy.
He said ‘I am crazy about you and I love you and I want you in my life and I don’t want you to kiss any more other boys. Won’t you please be my girlfriend?’
I remember vividly how I actually shrieked, like a schoolgirl, and said yes.
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
18. regret
On the Sunday after kissing the Other boy, I woke up hung-over, regretful, confused and racked with guilt. I spent the day on the couch with Carrie and the girls, trying to figure out what the night and my reaction to it meant for my prized single status.
I exchanged a harmless message or two with the Beautiful Boy, deciding that since we were officially single, I wouldn’t tell him anything until we were face to face again. It felt bad though. It felt like lying, like cheating.
By Sunday night I reached a low point. I couldn't do it, not like this. I wrote a long confessional e-mail, reminding the Boy that I found myself in completely uncharted territory. I was trying to be single while getting over something and at the same time I’d fallen in love with someone new who could not be there with me right then.
Not knowing when he would read it or what his reaction would be nearly drove me insane. I was just going to have to wait. I cried myself to sleep, tears of loss and fear.
What if I’d just given up the best man that I ever would meet?
What if he took this occurrence as a cue that my feelings for him were not as sincere as I’d professed?
What if he’s the jealous type who could never get over this?
What if he’d been kissing Other girls?
Would I want to know?
Could I accept it?
And what did any of these question matter as we were both “single”?!
I exchanged a harmless message or two with the Beautiful Boy, deciding that since we were officially single, I wouldn’t tell him anything until we were face to face again. It felt bad though. It felt like lying, like cheating.
By Sunday night I reached a low point. I couldn't do it, not like this. I wrote a long confessional e-mail, reminding the Boy that I found myself in completely uncharted territory. I was trying to be single while getting over something and at the same time I’d fallen in love with someone new who could not be there with me right then.
Not knowing when he would read it or what his reaction would be nearly drove me insane. I was just going to have to wait. I cried myself to sleep, tears of loss and fear.
What if I’d just given up the best man that I ever would meet?
What if he took this occurrence as a cue that my feelings for him were not as sincere as I’d professed?
What if he’s the jealous type who could never get over this?
What if he’d been kissing Other girls?
Would I want to know?
Could I accept it?
And what did any of these question matter as we were both “single”?!
Monday, September 15, 2008
16. fine
I call it my single life, but I’m pretty sure that a single life doesn’t usually include daily loving text messages back and forth between oneself and a certain Beautiful Boy?
But a single life might include kissing a random Other boy one night out on the town…
I couldn’t explain it to my own satisfaction then, and doubt whether I can make logical sense of it now. But it’s part of the story and therefore must be told.
One beautiful end-of-winter’s Saturday I went to an audition for a TV presenting job and it went great! Afterwards I met up with Careergirl to watch friends of hers playing club rugby. It was a gorgeous, bright day, filled with the hopeful sounds and smells of spring. Being outside on the balmy green fields, cheering and drinking with friends, following straight after the confidence boosting audition, I felt dizzy with joy.
The party continued post-match in the clubhouse and I was introduced to Careergirl’s friends. The room was packed with fit, charming boys and the girls who came to support and visit at the club. The whole atmosphere was loaded with flirtation.
Careergirl and I were both single, confident, bubbly girls new to the scene, so it’s fair to say that we received rather special attention all round. One boy stood out from the rest in that he refused to show particular interest. He would come over, crack a joke and disappear again. His strategy worked like a charm.
Hours later the entire party had moved to a restaurant/bar/club on the beachfront and suffice it to say that everyone there was rather tipsy. The Other boy had plucked up the Dutch courage to pay considerably more attention to me and soon we were dancing, flirting, dancing, chatting and then dancing, kissing!
He was a cute, smart, respectful boy. He danced like a dream and the kisses were fine.
Wait a minute, I’d been starved of kissing random cute smart respectful boys for 10 years and now here was the opportunity and the kisses were FINE? I had always thought and imagined that late night kisses with Other boys would be fantastic, exhilarating, mind-blowing, perfect, unbelievable…
As they had indeed been with one Beautiful Boy…
At that thought the kissing was stopped, the dancing was over, the lights came on and Careergirl and I found our way home.
But a single life might include kissing a random Other boy one night out on the town…
I couldn’t explain it to my own satisfaction then, and doubt whether I can make logical sense of it now. But it’s part of the story and therefore must be told.
One beautiful end-of-winter’s Saturday I went to an audition for a TV presenting job and it went great! Afterwards I met up with Careergirl to watch friends of hers playing club rugby. It was a gorgeous, bright day, filled with the hopeful sounds and smells of spring. Being outside on the balmy green fields, cheering and drinking with friends, following straight after the confidence boosting audition, I felt dizzy with joy.
The party continued post-match in the clubhouse and I was introduced to Careergirl’s friends. The room was packed with fit, charming boys and the girls who came to support and visit at the club. The whole atmosphere was loaded with flirtation.
Careergirl and I were both single, confident, bubbly girls new to the scene, so it’s fair to say that we received rather special attention all round. One boy stood out from the rest in that he refused to show particular interest. He would come over, crack a joke and disappear again. His strategy worked like a charm.
Hours later the entire party had moved to a restaurant/bar/club on the beachfront and suffice it to say that everyone there was rather tipsy. The Other boy had plucked up the Dutch courage to pay considerably more attention to me and soon we were dancing, flirting, dancing, chatting and then dancing, kissing!
He was a cute, smart, respectful boy. He danced like a dream and the kisses were fine.
Wait a minute, I’d been starved of kissing random cute smart respectful boys for 10 years and now here was the opportunity and the kisses were FINE? I had always thought and imagined that late night kisses with Other boys would be fantastic, exhilarating, mind-blowing, perfect, unbelievable…
As they had indeed been with one Beautiful Boy…
At that thought the kissing was stopped, the dancing was over, the lights came on and Careergirl and I found our way home.
15. airport
The day Boy left, we were wide-eyed and nervous, but also giggly and excited. We held hands and kissed non-stop, wishing each other the best and happiest times. Our plan of action was to wave goodbye, keep in touch and live contented, joyful lives until our paths may cross again.
I urged him to give sexy Senoritas and flirty Mademoiselles a chance, as I was rather excited about my own single status, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY ADULT LIFE. The feeling was enormous. Daunting and delicious, empowering and tremendously scary all at the same time.
We kissed goodbye, one last time, smiled and waved and blew kisses at each other until he disappeared through the security gates.
I threw myself into an eventful new life, keeping endlessly busy. During the day there was work and admin, clearing out and redecorating my apartment, sorting out insurance and bills and changing everything back to my own name. I felt sure and strong, independent and capable.
After work I could surround myself with family and friends, or even more indulgently, just be home alone and do whatever the hell I wanted. It was enormously gratifying to pig out on pizza and watch Sex & The City box sets till 3 in the morning, just because I could. I embraced my single life and found immense happiness in it.
I urged him to give sexy Senoritas and flirty Mademoiselles a chance, as I was rather excited about my own single status, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY ADULT LIFE. The feeling was enormous. Daunting and delicious, empowering and tremendously scary all at the same time.
We kissed goodbye, one last time, smiled and waved and blew kisses at each other until he disappeared through the security gates.
I threw myself into an eventful new life, keeping endlessly busy. During the day there was work and admin, clearing out and redecorating my apartment, sorting out insurance and bills and changing everything back to my own name. I felt sure and strong, independent and capable.
After work I could surround myself with family and friends, or even more indulgently, just be home alone and do whatever the hell I wanted. It was enormously gratifying to pig out on pizza and watch Sex & The City box sets till 3 in the morning, just because I could. I embraced my single life and found immense happiness in it.
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