AYl Dream

I guess this needs some context.

Went on a second date with JKm, and we spent the night cuddling. He mentioned the future a few times. After that, we started acting like a couple. No label yet.

Seriously thinking about how to end things in the best way with AYl. What’s stopping me? I’m selfish. That’s it. AYl is just so good at making out, and part of me wants to have that when I go home. The other part of me wants to give a real relationship a chance. Because where could AYl and I go, really? An 11 year age difference, a 3000 mile geological distance for 3/4 of the year. I wouldn’t marry him – I know that. I’ve been texting him – I wanted to text him for no reason for a bit, so it didn’t just seem like I was only texting him to break up.

So my dream.

I was walking back from somewhere, on the right side of the sidewalk, when I notice a car following me. I recognize the profile, and I recognize the hair, and when I turn, it’s AYl, come to visit me from far away.

Sinking feeling.

He’e ebullient, energetic, excited, much more than he ever is in real life. He’s meeting all my friends here, he’s charming them, and he’s being great. He’s so…dad-like. He’s wearing a crew-neck sweatshirt in bright orange, with an 80’s sleeve cut. And faded jeans.

I act excited. I semi-ignore him and act blasé, like I tend do with guys whom I’m not sure about but don’t want to throw off completely. He doesn’t notice. He keeps talking about the future.

I find out that we have a kid. My kid. Somehow, she’s blonde, and she’s the same age as me. I’d met her as a fellow student at college. I’d hid her her entire life. Also, I’m Fergie somehow, and some people found out I had a hidden kid when I took her to a Jazzercise class for pregnant women / young mothers. (Not fucking with you here. And no, I don’t know what that means, either.)

So, yeah.

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Wow, AYl

I’m the one who initiates text conversations, and I’m the one who sends the last text.

So when, out of the blue, he texted me, I got pretty excited. Responded.

To which he did not bother to respond.

It’s petty, I know. But when that’s our only contact, and I’m having some trouble searching for a reason to stay with him, it’s kind of a big sign.

Oh, by the way, JKm

JKm. Quick recap, he was the friend of this sophomore with really questionable intentions (texting me at 2am, hey, are you free? is so not my thing). I remember vaguely meeting him at the first sports part of the year – I was on the couch, talking to the aforementioned friend, and he introduced me really quickly to JKm. I remember kind of wishing that JKm was the one talking to me.

And then I saw JKm at some other party – don’t quite remember which one, but it was the next weekend, after a week of his friend’s annoying texts. He danced with my friend at a party, but talked to me the rest of the night. We got each other’s numbers, super casually.

Danced with him at the club the next night. Super brief DFMO, but verrrry brief because man, I am spoiled with how good AYl is at making out. I mean, AYl’s got 10 years of experience on any guy here.

Anyway. We talked the rest of the night and meandered our way back to campus – he walked me back to my dorm. “I’ll text you,” he told me.

And he did. Snapchat, text, whatever. I kept seeing him around, saying hi. And then he finally asked me out.

We went out to dinner, which was largely uneventful. He’s easy to be around.

Why do I like him? Superficially, he has the build that I’m apparently attracted to – tall-ish, lightly muscled, but not in an obvious way. He’s a musician, and I’m apparently attracted to talent. Actually, yes, I’m very attracted to talent. And he’s damn good. Better than WB, I think.

He’s kind, and well-liked. I love seeing him interact with others.

He would be an amazing boyfriend, I’m sure.

But somehow I feel like it’s missing the spark. At the same time, I almost don’t care – I want to have a real relationship: one that I can tell people about, that we can publicly announce and go on actual dates and have no ambiguity about whether we’re a thing or a fling or a real, committed relationship.

We’ll see.

FF, Re-impression

I guess I was wrong about FF.

Not the facts. The facts were right. But the nuances – I was wrong.

Saw him show up to class today, but he sat in the back and left without us talking. I was kind of disappointed.

Dinner. I stop by the cafeteria on my way to my dorm, fully intending on taking out food and doing homework.

“Hey, [my name], right?”

I turn, see FF. I’m a bit caught off guard, so I semi-pretend to struggle to recognize him before I let recognition flash across my face. “FF!” I smile.

“Are you taking out?” He looks at the container in my hand.

“I…” I look at his plate. “I…yeah. I am.”

“You should eat here.”

“Should I?”

“Yeah. I’m sitting out there.”

Indecision, before my desire to get to know FF wins out.

“Fine, but only because the grass is wet outside.”

We sit, start talking. He talks, for the most part. He’s high. He directs the conversation towards me, but I deflect it right back. He’s the interesting one, here.

How was I wrong? I guess…he does go to class. He appreciates school. He’s very intellectual, and thoughtful, and kind. He remembers and values people. He references black 20th century black intellectuals and novelists.

I hang out at his place for 20 minutes or so before rushing off to class. He was planning on studying, but didn’t, I guess because he was entertaining me. We sit on his bed, comfortable, casual. He plays a few YouTube videos of said black intellectuals before I tear myself away for the sake of my grades.

“I think you should stay,” he says.

I want to stay. But I head out.