It’s been a really long time since I’ve posted.
But I’m going to zero in on WB, because it’s late, and I’m tired, and I just want to get this down on paper (or on whatever blogspace).
So…WB. He’s perfect. I’ve told other people that, I’ve told myself that, and most recently I’ve told him that, after getting acquainted with him.
We never really talked all that much. I honestly don’t think he ever wanted to get to know me. This year, we sat next to each other in English, and we were both in leadership roles in band, and we talked for necessary reasons, like planning a sectional, or asking a homework question.
A while ago, we broke the ice over jazz. Our first non-obligatory conversation. And even that was only because i kept asking questions, and they needed a pianist to accompany their improving.
We still didn’t really talk.
Last week, he asked me for a flute, but only because I’m the flute section leader. I offered to lend him my flute. I told him to text me a reminder. And that is how I gave him my number. It was completely intentional, of course. I wanted to get to know perfect guy.
So I brought him the flute, and that was that. A bit later, we were talking (again, for practical reasons), and he mentioned that he could lend me his old saxophone. And that was that as well. That was yesterday.
Today, I got a string of texts and calls from him. I called him back.
He asked me to a dance. Why? Because his date flaked out on him. I was a backup, essentially, but I decided to go, because here was my chance to get to know perfect guy.
I was still just so confused – we barely knew each other. We barely spoke even for conversation. Why was he asking me?
He picked me up, and we drove there. It was comfortable, light conversation the way there. When we got out of the car, I asked a little question about his ex-girlfriend, and he answered right away, honestly, openly. I was actually taken aback by how open he was about…well, everything. All his feelings and whatnot. And that set the tone for the rest of the night, I think. Open and honest.
We sat and ate, and made conversation. We got to know each other. Then we did some fancy dancing (foxtrot, waltz, swing, cha cha cha), which was slightly (literally, barely even at all) awkward at first. We sort of both looked down and focused on getting the moves right. By the swing dancing, though, we were twirling, coming around, looking each other in the eyes, smiling, laughing, and honestly just having a good time.
We got some water and got talking. When the music started to play some pumping bass, we moved outside and just talked for the rest of the night.
And you know what? I really got to know him. It was so nice – just his openness and honesty. And he asked questions, serious question, and seemed to really want the answer. And he made observations – he makes so many observations – about people. About me, about others. He thinks before he speaks. He thinks a lot. That’s a good way to describe him.
He kept saying how he loved that I was so directly honest. Blunt. Genuine. Real. Bare bones, no fluff. I wasn’t sure how to take that.
But it wasn’t all down talk about feelings. We laughed and joked about light things.
After a bit of freezing, we skipped out and drove home, still talking. It was just so easy to talk. We were both so comfortable. We talked about relationships; how I didn’t want one, how he wanted one so badly.
When he parked in front of my house, he asked if I would want to go to prom with him. He didn’t ask me to prom, he asked if he should ask me to prom. I thought a bit. Then I said yes. He said he had a lot in common with me, and he was comfortable with me.
I think we’re friends, and I hope we’ll become close friends. I hope this wasn’t a one-night thing.