Highway to the Danger Zone?

So, there’s this guy. I’ve been meaning to write about him for ages, but am somehow just getting around to it. So here’s the story. Every fall with the cooling of the air comes the heating up of the anticipation of new guys moving in. This year was no different, except that this time my anticipation was rewarded with Maverick, a tall, handsome, Air Force Academy graduate who has come to Oxford to study for his Master’s degree. He is spectacular. I met him at Institute one day and was immediately smitten. I heard him say one thing in his American accent and set my sights on him. I chatted with him for a few minutes after institute and got to see up close just how attractive he is. He’s got perfectly white teeth, and lovely strong arms. I didn’t see him again until he came to one of the Reading dances. He was terribly awkward, but so handsome that I was able to overlook his lack of dancing skill. We had the chance to chat outside in the foyer for a few minutes and found him to be interesting as well as handsome. He’s getting his Master’s in African studies and is just plain fantastic. After that night, the full on obsession began. I found him on facebook and looked through all of his pictures. We even googled him and found out some pretty interesting things about him. He graduated number one in his class and got a scholarship to study at Oxford. So besides being extremely good looking, he’s also very clever. To add to the attraction is the fact that even though he has every reason to be cocky, he’s very humble.

Well, the plans then revolved around how to see him again. They started holding Institute in Oxford so he and the other Oxford-ians have stopped coming to our class, which meant that Maverick sightings diminished. So the deception began. Luckily I do have friends in Oxford so I was able to finagle a few outings to Oxford. Unfortunately, they didn’t always go that well. I was quite disappointed in our first adventure there. We went up for Guy Fawkes Day, which is just an excuse to burn things and shoot off fireworks. When we got to Maverick’s house it was pouring rain so the fireworks things wasn’t particularly interesting. Also, there was this girl there. She almost immediately made it clear that we were not to get any ideas about Maverick. It was apparent that she had made a claim and was not entirely pleased with other girls being there. She monopolized every conversation with her not-so-subtle attempts to make herself look fantastic. I immediately disliked her and her transparent friendliness. I was sure that Maverick wouldn’t fall to her womanly charms so I maintained hope.

The plan that followed was to have our Oxford friends over dinner, excluding ‘the other girl.’ The plan went great except that none of the guys we invited came. We ended up having a really lovely time and some interesting details were revealed. The other girl’s roommate was one of our dinner guests and gave me a little insight into how things were going up there. She informed me that I should perhaps take my sights off Maverick. She said Maverick and the other girl spent a lot of time together, at night, at his apartment. I was shocked. I thought everyone else was similarly disgusted by her, so imagine my surprise when I found out that the other girl and Maverick were snogging. I know! How horrible!?!?! I immediately lost a little respect for him. How could he not see that she was vacuous, insecure, and fake like the rest of us did? Anyway, I decided to concede Maverick to her. If that was the kind of girl he was interested in, then he clearly would never give me a second look. So I pretty much gave up on him. Of course I still talked to him when I got the chance, but I decided he wasn’t worth my time.

I ended up spending Thanksgiving up there and learned a lot more about Maverick and the other girl’s relationship. Apparently their relationship consisted of snogging only and not actual dating. As much as the other girl wanted them to be boyfriend and girlfriend, Maverick wasn’t into it. I actually felt a little bit sorry for her, having been the delusional girl who thinks that a kiss is equivalent to interest. I also realized that maybe Maverick did realize that she was vacuous and fake, but couldn’t resist the prospect of a pretty girl who was willing to snog. Having also been that person, I decided to cut him a break. We’ve all been there. Sometime you just have to snog a bit. Well, since I’ve been back from Christmas, one of my friends from Oxford told me to get in there. She informed me that Maverick is ‘single.’ Since they were never actually dating, I don’t know how they could break up, but I’ll take it. Anyway, she told me that Maverick is trying to spend less time with the other girl, as he has realized that she’s not for him. I still haven’t decided where this leaves me, but I’d probably snog him, so we'll see what happens.

What Might Have Been

It is with heavy heart that I report that Prince William has chosen someone else. Unfortunately I never actually met him. I'm sure if I had, he would have picked me. I hung around Windsor Castle all the time on the off chance that he'd be there visiting Granny Liz and happen to notice me casually strolling the grounds or leaning seductively against a wall or something, but to no avail. I just feel bad for the British public. They would have loved me. Oh well, there's always the ginger Harry.

The Next Installment

Well, there is good news and bad. Jasper has continued to drive me insane. After the shenanigans of last week, and in discussing the situation with many, many friends, I made the decision that I couldn’t continue to live this way. I determined to cut him off. I’ve concluded that I will explain to him why we can’t continue the way things have been going, but am going to wait until I’m done with the dissertation, so as to avoid unnecessary distraction and preoccupation. As a stop-gap measure, I didn’t respond to his texts or attempts to chat on facebook for three whole days. Then on Thursday, I decided to chat with him for a few minutes on facebook. In the course of the conversation, he said that his feelings were hurt since I hadn’t talked to him for so long. I blamed my avoidance on the dissertation writing, but it was really just to make him mad. There was a bit of satisfaction in knowing that I had succeeded in creating some sort of anxiety. I foolishly thought that I could allow him to chat with me again on Friday without any negative consequences. I was wrong. Here is a transcript of the conversation.

Jasper: So I haven’t seen you in ages!

Me: 5 days! New record. J

Jasper: it’s terrible…if feel so empty

Me: hahaha, what to do, what to do

Jasper: don’t know...probably just make out with you and get it over and done with and then move on... (yep, he actually said that)

Me: that’s one idea…

Jasper: any others?

Me: no, just didn’t know what to say

Jasper: haha, I do that a lot to you, huh?

Me: yep

Jasper: it’s because our mutual carnal desires ;)

Me: could be

Jasper: :p

Me: what are you sticking your tongue out at me for?

Jasper: hoping you will get the idea and meet it with yours. ;)

Me: you wish

Jasper: you’re right there

Me: again, I’m stuck (mostly I was just shocked at his brazenness)

So, there you go. I just don’t know. Nearly every time I chat with him, he says something totally inappropriate that makes me wonder what he’s thinking. He’s insane. How can he possibly think that I would actually take him at this point? The unfortunate problem is that I actually do have ‘carnal desire’ for him. Part of me does think it might be better to just kiss him and get it over with and clear the sexual tension. The other problem is that I have prided myself on not being ‘that girl’ who kisses boys who have girlfriends. So that’s the pickle I’m in. One thing is for certain; I will no longer cuddle with him, either on my couch or bed. That’s where things began to go bad. I should have stopped him the first time, but gosh darn it, he smelled so good. Anyway, I will keep you posted as to the results of the important discussion that will be coming sometime next week.

In happier news, I met someone new who is nice. I went to a friend’s wedding a few weeks ago and ended up seated next to a cute guy at the luncheon whom we’ll call FOG (friend of groom). I had seen him come in and thought he was good looking and determined to meet him. As chance would have it, we ended up next to each other and chatted all through the luncheon. He was a bit shy and I had to do the actual initiation of the conversation. In the course of the discussion I found out that he just finished his undergraduate degree in economics and is starting his Master’s this autumn. So, he’s a clever one. He served his mission French speaking in Montreal. So, he likes France. He has dark hair and dark eyes. So, he isn’t as strange looking as some of the English guys I’ve met. All of these are good things. Did I mention he’s nice and doesn’t have another girlfriend?

After lunch, I got distracted and then it was time to leave, so I didn’t chat with him again. In retrospect it was probably good, but I was a little sad that I hadn’t given him a bit more encouragement to stay in touch. Well, imagine my surprise when I checked facebook on Monday and FOG had requested my friendship. I was quite pleased. He had sought me out. Truth be told, I had tried to find him, but couldn’t figure him out from the pictures. Well, I figured I had nothing to lose so I posted something on his wall and thus began my facebook flirting campaign. We went back and forth every day or so. I of course, made sure that each of my posts had a question in it so he’d have to respond and he followed in kind. I also made it clear that I would like to see him again sometime. He said he’d probably be down this way again sometime, so we’ll see what happens. Even if nothing comes of it, it was really nice to have something new and exciting. After trading wall posts for a week or so, I decided it was time to take things up a notch and sent him an actual message. He answered back that he’d be going to France on holiday for a while. I responded that I was jealous and asked about where he was going and so on. Well, he didn’t respond for a long time, and I figured he wasn’t going to. I shouldn’t have given up so easily. He must have just been in France longer than I’d thought. So, that’s my story. I’m hoping to figure out a way to ‘bump’ into him somewhere again. I’ve enlisted the friends at whose wedding we met, and they said they’d do what they could. I’ll keep you posted.

My Own Personal "Holiday"

I know this post has been long awaited, but it’s just such a long story and things keep happening that should be mentioned. So without further ado, the long, sad, stupid story of Jasper and Andrea. To begin, I met Jasper the first weekend after I came to England. He was friendly to me and I was impressed by his willingness to talk to someone who was clearly new and alone. I also thought he was reasonably good-looking, though extremely young. I later figured out that he was actually dating someone, and we became good friends. Over the course of the next few months, we got to be very close and I would consider him to be my best friend in England. He eventually broke up with his girlfriend, with whom I had been friends, but he and I remained better friends than she and I. We spent most weekends together and had a comfortable and easy friendship. We often times lamented the fact that things would never work out between us because of our ages and my nationality (his previous girlfriend had been American and he had sworn us off.) We showed up together at nearly everything and people began to talk. We thought it was funny and laughed about tricking everyone.

Anyway, then the weekend before I returned to America to do research, we got a group of friends together for dinner and then to watch a movie at my house. The defendant and I ended up next to each other on my housemate’s bed and in jest I said I may just let him hold my hand and he said he might just try to put his arm around me. I thought he was kidding until he actually did put his arm around me and hold my hand. I was completely caught off guard and perhaps didn’t handle it as well as I should have. I let go of his hand after a few minutes because I wasn’t sure what to do. Anyway, I flew back to the States a couple of days later without actually speaking to him again. After things had settled down a bit, we began chatting and emailing and I noticed a change in his behavior. He was much flirtier than he had been before and the tone of his emails and chats was quite blatantly one of interest. He told me that he couldn’t wait for me to come home and that he had marked the day on his calendar. It got to the point where we were chatting every day and were quite open with the things we said. Just to give a clearer picture of the situation, some of his more confusing comments have been recorded here.

“I’m not a fan of you being in America.” (this was written just days after I got to the States, early on in our new ‘friendship.’) A few days later, “I’m just plodding along trying to enjoy life without you.”

Since then and now that I’m back in England we have continued to converse on a fairly daily basis. Sometimes things are said that lead me to believe that he can’t bear to be without me. Other times, though, he’ll say something that makes me think he doesn’t have feelings for me at all. I’ll try to record them as near the truth as I can, but there will surely be some slight inaccuracies.

“I’m invincible. Well, to everyone but you.”

“You’re irresistible.”

“When you get home, we’ll…” (This was said many times and ended with things like, going to the movies, snuggling on his bed, going to dinner, and other date-y things.)

“I’m carnally attracted to you.”

“We would never work together because we’d get in trouble and you’d end up pregnant.”

(Upon the topic of making out.) “It will happen. Before you go back to America. I’ll break up with whoever I’m dating and we’ll go at it.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“I could spend hours with you and still not get tired of you.”

As things got more and more intense, I began to think that he was interested in me and that upon returning to the UK, we would start dating. I was still confused, though, because of comments he would make referring to me going out with other guys and how he would encourage that. So I had determined to talk to him about the situation when I saw him again. Now those of you who know me, even a little bit, know that I am dreadful at talking to guys about how I feel about them. In fact, I think I’ve only ever done it once, and that was because I was moving to England in two days. Anyway, I got back to England and he didn’t contact me until the second day I’d been back. Needless to say, I was hurt. He had told me he was counting down the days until I returned and then didn’t even acknowledge it. Well, then he finally called and we worked out a time to see each other that weekend. I was nervous because I had decided that we needed to have ‘the talk’ and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go.

When he arrived that evening, he was wearing the clothes that he had gotten when we went shopping together once. He was also wearing the cologne that I had mentioned was my favorite. He smelled fantastic and looked pretty irresistible. When he first came in, he gave me huge hug and we just stood in the hallway and held each other. He had never hugged me before, so this was new. It was amazing. As the evening progressed it became apparent that things were going to be different between us. We ended up on the sofa with my friend watching a movie. He put his head on my shoulder and hand on my leg. In my thinking, that meant that we didn’t need to have ‘the talk.’ I figured actions spoke louder than words in this case. Then, as pre-arranged, my friend left to ‘check something on the computer.’ Not long after that, he put his arms around me and we cuddled on the couch for the rest of the evening. It was wonderful and I thought we were on the same page. Then, I headed off to Spain for a week. We didn’t have much contact, but it was decided by my friend and I that there needed to be some communication when I got home. I spent the week worried about what to say and how things were going to end up. When I got home that weekend, he was waiting at my house and we ended up cuddling on my bed, and I neglected to talk to him again. I just figured that if he weren’t interested in me, he wouldn’t be so desirous of my company. He did all of the things that I would think a boyfriend would do. He was attentive, remembered things about me and our conversations, and liked to hold my hand. We ended up spending the next day together as well and he began talking to me about a girl that he’d gone out with. I thought it was a little weird, but couldn’t ignore the fact that he was acting like my boyfriend.

The next couple of days took a different course. As we were chatting on facebook, as we did every day, he said something about us dating and how he considered me his best friend and big sister. I was a little caught off guard. I wasn’t sure what to think and how to act, so I sort of pretended that I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then a couple of days later we were talking about kissing and he said, “You don’t actually want to kiss me do you?” I didn’t know how to answer so I said, “Well you don’t randomly make out and you don’t want to date me so, I guess not.” To which he responded, “I would, but you’re just too much my best friend and like my sister.” He then added, “I do fancy you a bit, though.” So, there you go. At least he does fancy me. That makes all his behavior completely justified.

So since then, our relationship has taken a decidedly different turn. We continue to hang out ALL the time, and cuddle on the couch, and talk about making out with each other, and all sorts of things we probably shouldn’t, since he has a girlfriend. Yep, he’s dating someone. Which makes the fact that he talks to me everyday, often about fairly romantic topics, a bit inappropriate. He should probably also not hold my hand, snuggle with me on the couch, or give me pats on the bum, but he does. The terrible thing is that I let him and I don’t know why. He seems to have a strange power over me, which I am unable to break. As much as I try, I can’t resist his offers to hang out and sit together on the couch and hold hands. I guess there’s still a glimmer of hope that he’ll ditch his girlfriend and pick me, even though past history has taught us all that this is unlikely. I’m very aware of the fact that our relationship is dysfunctional and that at some point I need to have a conversation about it, but I’m just not able to summon the gumption. I’ll keep you all posted though. Hopefully this will end well, by which I mean that I’ll finally be courageous enough to tell him how I feel and suffer the consequences. I’m sure there are parts that have been missed so I may have to fill in gaps here and there. That’s the story thus far. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.

As If!

I know I’ve been horrible lately. When I first got here, it seemed like I was meeting guys all the time and having so many adventures. Now I forget to write about the funny things that happen. It isn’t just about the snogging, you know. I will try to be better about updating more regularly throughout the summer.

On that note, I had a pretty hilarious conversation with the Cheetah a couple of weeks ago. I hadn’t heard from him since the ‘incident’ (as I’m calling it.) He had requested my friendship on Facebook after that first day I met him and I had chosen to hide him after I got home. Suffice it to say, I hadn’t really thought about him much. Well, I was online and he popped on to say hi. The subsequent conversation was one of the strangest I’ve ever had. I wish I had been able to copy and paste it in its entirety because I don’t think I’ll do it justice, but here is the gist of it.

He started by making small talk about how things were going with my studies and such. Then asked about my family and if I was planning on living in America ultimately. Weird. Anyway, then he told me he was ‘watching’ pictures of me. I’ll give him a pass on the mistranslation from the French, but not for the creepiness of looking at my pictures. He then said something to the effect of, “You are so beautiful. And I don’t mean just pretty. There is a light that shines out of your countenance. We both know where this comes from. So thank you for being virtuous.” Yep, the guy I made out with after a grand total of 4 hours of actual interaction thanked me for being virtuous.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Well, everyone, it is with great excitement that I inform you all that what we have all been waiting for has finally taken place. I have finally had my first Europe snog. What’s more, it took place on my birthday, in France, with a Frenchman. I could barely have invented a better premise. So here’s how it happened, since I’m sure you want all the details. I must warn you that it’s a long story because I wanted to be thorough, so make sure you have plenty of time to read it in its entirety. My friend Austin needed to go to France to do some research for an essay he’s writing. Naturally, I invited myself along because I love France, and it was my birthday weekend. I couldn’t imagine a better way to face the reality of being too old to be called a young single adult anymore than by getting some hot French action, even though at that point I didn’t expect it to actually happen.

Another of Austin’s friends, Maggie, came along as well and we began our adventure in the early hours of Thursday morning. By the time we got to our hotel, I looked like death, but I tried to make myself look presentable because part of the plan was to stop by Institute for a little while. Unfortunately, there’s only so much you can do when you’ve been up since 2:30 in the morning, but I did my best. Since Maggie doesn’t understand French and had never been to Paris before, I figured Institute would be a waste of time so we wandered around town for a while.

When we got back everyone was headed to get something to eat, so we tagged along to…McDonald’s, which is not on the top of my list of places to eat in France. Well, all’s well that ends well, though, because our time at Chez McDo (as they call it in France) made it possible for me to meet…the Cheetah, so named because of his speed and stealth. We were on our way back to the hotel when we met up with a group of the YSA who had gone to Subway instead. They were traveling to the same area of town so we tagged along. As Maggie and I weren’t competent French speakers, most of the group ignored us, except for one young man. At first I thought he was just being friendly and chatty, in the way Church members are. He served his mission in Provo so we had a lot to talk about. In the course of our discussion I mentioned that it was my birthday and he asked how I was going to celebrate. Still thinking he was just being nice, I mentioned that we hadn’t really made plans, to which he responded that perhaps he could put something together. I assumed that he meant for the whole group of us, but realized by the time we got off the train that I had essentially made a date with a Frenchman. I was caught totally off guard by the whole thing. He was very slick. More on that later. I didn’t hear from him on Friday like I was supposed to, so I wrote him off as a flake and decided he must have changed his mind. Then he called on Saturday afternoon. He told me something had come up and that he probably wasn’t going to be able to get together that night, but that he would call me later if he had time because he really wanted to do something with just me. He never called. So again, I chalked it up to lame boy-ness and moved on.

We went to Church the next morning at his ward. I was looking as hot as I could while living out of a suitcase just to let him know what he had missed out on. Well, we went to Sunday School where the Cheetah shockingly and not so sneakily pulled the old sharing-scriptures-hand-hold. I was a bit surprised by his utter ballsy-ness to just go for it in front of everyone else in the class. Meanwhile, I decided there was really nothing for me to lose. I wasn’t going to see any of them again and if they thought I was a tramp, oh well. So, I flirted shamelessly throughout Sunday School and was feeling pretty sure he was into me. Then we went to Sacrament meeting where he sat next to me and luckily didn’t try anything sneaky. Sunday School is one thing, but I’m no Sacrament meeting hussy. The Cheetah asked what the plan was for the rest of the day and invited himself to come along to spend the afternoon in Paris, which I was totally okay with.

After Church I hung around waiting for him to give me some sort of clue as to where we stood and got nothing. Eventually, I asked him if he still wanted to come to Paris and he said he couldn’t because of some activity they were having that night. Luckily I didn’t really care too much at this point. I was moderately attracted to him and wanted to make out with him, but there was no real long-term interest. If there had been, I would have been crushed by his aloofness and seeming indifference. As it was, I was just confused. Anyway, it finally came time to actually leave and he walked me to the car. I mentioned that we were going to have to probably settle for McDonald’s for dinner whereupon he suggested that we could come to his house for dinner, which is what I had sort of been trying to finagle all along. Since he conveniently had no ride home, he had to come with us. Maggie had already crawled into the back seat, which was full of our stuff. He not so subtly suggested that she sit up front and he would share the back seat with me, even though logically it should have been Maggie since she’s at least half my size. Maggie graciously took one for the team. I climbed into the back seat where I was basically forced to sit in his lap, which made the Cheetah’s next move much more convenient. We had been in the car all of two minutes when his had found it’s way onto my upper thigh. Again, I was shocked by his brazenness but didn’t care at all. He then cleverly placed his suit jacket over his lap so we could hold hands undetected.

Once we reached the house he busied himself with helping to make dinner and once we were called to the table, made his brother’s fiancée switch places with him so he could be next to me for some more clandestine hand holding, which I’m sure everyone detected. After dinner, we were preparing to leave and Austin and Maggie had already gone outside. Meanwhile, the Cheetah and I were having a fairly awkward “I’m pretty sure you want to kiss me and I’m all for it, but you’re not doing it so I’ll just make small talk” conversations. I eventually just gave him the customary French cheek kisses and started to leave. That’s when the Cheetah pounced and lost no time in getting down to business. Unfortunately one of the other dinner guests chose that time to walk around the corner. To be fair we were standing right inside the front door, so the chances of being caught were pretty high. I was slightly embarrassed, but the (for me) dangerous phrase “What have I got to lose?” struck again. I have realized that phrase should probably be removed from my usage. It gets me into a lot of trouble.

Anyway, we kept kissing until the brother’s fiancée walked out of the kitchen and I decided we needed a different location. So we went down the hall where there was a little more privacy for the Cheetah’s next move, which I will not go into here, as this is still a family friendly website. After several minutes of good solid snogging in the hall, we went to his bedroom, which is probably where I should have stopped him. Unfortunately that little voice in my head said “What have I got to lose?” again and [edited by the writer for inappropriate content]. We made out there for a few minutes and then it was time for me to go. He walked me to the door for the second time and we kissed goodbye. I went out to the car where my poor friends had been waiting for what I’m sure seemed like ages and recounted the story to them as we drove off. I doubt I’ll ever see him again, but that’s kind of how I like it and it sure did make for a great birthday.

The End?

I realize that it has been too long since I updated the ongoing saga, but I wanted to wait until there was really something to be said. So, without further ado, the conclusion of what might be the most frustrating guy experience I have ever had. So, I spent the couple of days following “the texts” in a pretty foul mood. I had an essay to write, but couldn’t settle down to it because of my complete frustration with the situation. I was alternately angry with him for getting my hopes up and mad at myself for thinking he was serious. Anyway, the next day, I added him as a friend on facebook in order to communicate to him that there were not hard feelings (even though there were.) I wasn’t sure where that would lead us, but apparently it was the correct decision. That very day he started chatting with me and we chatted for several hours. No mention was made of the previous conversation, but I was content to wait until the time seemed right to approach the subject. I also wanted him to pass “the test.” For you gentlemen readers, “the test” is something women do to make sure you’re worthy of their affections. You don’t know we’re doing it, but if you fail, we decide you’re off the list. Tests usually take the form of some sort of gesture on your part that shows initiative and interest: a phone call, a text, initiating a conversation, etc. So the Slacker’s test was to initiate chat conversations on facebook. I’m pleased to report that he passed his test on several occasions. We chatted quite a bit during that week and I was feeling pretty good about things. He seemed invested and our conversations were real and flirty all at the same time. After three or four times, I felt that it was okay for me to then start a conversation once or twice. It was comfortable and I felt like we were back to where we’d been pre-drunk-text. I was looking forward to when we’d see each other again. We had determined to go to the pub again after our presentations and I was ready. I had rehearsed the speech I was going to give and felt that it was perfect and could lead to nothing less than a fantastic night of snogging.

So it was with great anticipation that I prepared for the presentations. (We had to give a little ten-minute presentation on our thesis topic. Definitely not the most important thing on my mind that night.) I planned my outfit carefully and took great care to make my hair and makeup look just right. It has to be said that I looked hot. I walked to campus and got there before he did. I was chatting to a friend who knows the story when he walked in and sat down at the table across from me without acknowledging my presence. He had failed that test to be sure. So, we got off to a bad start. I wasn’t sure how he was going to handle things, but clearly he was a bit awkward about the whole thing. That in turn, made me feel a little awkward, so I decided to be a bit aloof. It didn’t last. He eventually gave me one of his patented sideways glance-smirks and I was toast. We spent the rest of the two hours making eyes at each other and flirting. After we finished, a few of us headed over to the pub to celebrate the end of our course. Eventually a couple of them left and we were down to three. Things so far were going according to plan. We did the pub quiz and the guys kept drinking, which was also part of the plan. Usually a few drinks in, the Slacker starts to get flirty and lean in and such, but this time he was just getting cranky. He was in a really foul mood and the alcohol was not helping. There was none of the usual arm around my shoulder, leaning in close business this time and I was frustrated. We decided not to stay for the karaoke, which was fine with me because it meant the night was still young. So we started for home and he talked about how hard it was to be leaving Reading and his ex. Not exactly the type of conversation I wanted to be having the possibly last time I would see him. As we got closer to my house, he mentioned that he was going to stop and get some chips and go home. By this time, I was already frustrated and not feeling the vibe, so I let him go without giving my speech. He didn’t even walk me all the way home. He said goodbye and gave me a hug and that was it. I walked the rest of the way home by myself, cursing him all the way. That was a week ago and we’ve chatted just once since then. To be so close and then not have it happen is so frustrating. I have no idea if I will see him ever again. Part of me (my lips) wants to while the more rational part (my brain) says to call it quits. I guess we’ll have to wait and see which one wins out.