I have a confession to make:
I spent my weekend in the presence of Darcy.
Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday night.
I'd hang out with him every single damn day of his stay if he asked, shiiiit.
It still feels like a dream. Like it never happened.
As cliche and trite as this is, I can't find a better way to put it:
He has me, all of me, in the palm of his hand.
I am all his.
And it's not something he tried to do-- get me-- or something I looked for, it's just there.
While I often sit here pondering wether I'm capable of "learning" to like a dude, doubting whether I'm able to like anyone... all Darcy has to do is stand there, not even looking at me or saying a word to me, and I'll be completely, blissfully subdued.
Soy tuya.
There's a problem, though:
My mind is so adamant about me not "bothering" him and getting all obnoxiously enthusiastic around him, that I get all awkward... and proceed to avoid making eye contact with him, or talking too much to him, or even accidentally touching him, not even a simple bump.
Sometimes it looks like I freakin' hate him.
My brain keeps telling me to chill out, that if he liked me, he would have said something by now. For all I know, he probably thinks I like one of his friends and he's just playing the role of supportive friend. So I just keep the distance, even if all I want to do sometimes is inform him how much I look forward to seeing his lovely face and hearing his lovelier voice... how often I have to remind myself not to touch him, just so I won't be one of those girls (I shake my head each time I see a chick getting touchy-feely with a dude that clearly doesn't like her. It's pretty cringeworthy).
At times I feel like just being straightforward and telling him how I feel.
You make me feel funny. My heart races, my knees wobble, I can't see straight, and I hold my breath when I see you smile. You captivate me... even if I try so hard to make it look like you're just another dude friend. I find you to be extraordinary.
But of course, I then think of how I feel when someone I don't like professes his admiration for me... so I shut up.
If he liked YOU, he would TELL you. Guys do that when they find a girl they like... just look at MGH!
On Saturday, I spent most of the day with him (of course, it wasn't just us, it was a small, chill group of his friends) at his pretty house (looking at the decorations I just angrily thought of my mom. Why does MY mom refuse to add color to the house?! Black and white and gold... what kind of shit color scheme is that?! And why don't we have bookshelves?! Bunch of Neanderthals, we are). It was a good time... even if his mom gave me some icedtea drink that I'm still sort of confused as to what it was (Southern Comfort? Something like that. I drank it straight, on the rocks... after having only eaten--besides breakfast-- a protein shake. Not smart of me, guys, not smart). He even has dogs that are adorably affectionate, but back off before dogs reach that "annoyingly clingy" level.
Anyway, so I'm all comfortable and bubbly.
Then that stupid thing that always happens to me happened to me:
My heart was dropkicked all while some stupid, sentimental music played in the background.
MGH started this trend back in our Cancun summer of '09. The time my heart broke in slow-motion in front of a Margaritaville as the Amelie theme song played in the background.
This time, it happened outside of a pub. Although... the music was played a couple of minutes prior to the actual event. I'm talking about listening to a cover of Willie Nelson's "Always on my Mind" followed by "I would walk 500 miles."
As the songs played, I scoffed to myself... Very appropriate... how ironic.
But the songs did help me acquire some courage to convince myself to finally affectionately hug Darcy when it would come time to walk out of the pub in a few minutes. I had convinced myself I'd do it.
All was going well... he was leading, and I wasn't too far behind, then I stalled, waiting for another friend to finish his conversation with some other dude.
As I stood outside the pub I turned to see Darcy and his bestie were still walking full speed ahead, without turning back.
I was parked in the complete opposite direction, it wasn't like I was going to hunt these guys down to say goodbye.
Instead, I stayed put in front of the pub, waiting for the guy to finish his conversation, while watching Darcy's frame quickly disappear from my sight.
Not again. Not again.
I then made eye contact with his other friend.
Him: Well... that's kinda fucked up that he just left like that...
I shrugged, as is customary when I feel bummed, but realize there's nothing I can do-- when I realize things aren't mutual.
I said my goodbyes to the rest of the people, and headed in the opposite direction, alone (Oh my god, when I got home I was scared SHITLESS after I clearly felt like someone was rushing towards me from behind as I was fumbling with the keys to open my front door. I seriously thought I was going to get murdered, so I dropped everything in my hands and gripped on the Pyrex casserole I was holding. I was ready to smash that thing against a motherfucker's temple if I had to. But when I turned around, no one was there. Piss-my-pants-worthy, that scare. I swear).
This helped cement that no matter how strong my attraction might be, his end just isn't there.
It didn't keep me from hitting up the movies with him Sunday night, however.
As long as he allows for me to be around him, I'll keep choosing to be around him.
No one makes me feel the way he does... still. This girl belongs to him.
I spent my weekend in the presence of Darcy.
Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday night.
I'd hang out with him every single damn day of his stay if he asked, shiiiit.
It still feels like a dream. Like it never happened.
As cliche and trite as this is, I can't find a better way to put it:
He has me, all of me, in the palm of his hand.
I am all his.
And it's not something he tried to do-- get me-- or something I looked for, it's just there.
While I often sit here pondering wether I'm capable of "learning" to like a dude, doubting whether I'm able to like anyone... all Darcy has to do is stand there, not even looking at me or saying a word to me, and I'll be completely, blissfully subdued.
Soy tuya.
There's a problem, though:
My mind is so adamant about me not "bothering" him and getting all obnoxiously enthusiastic around him, that I get all awkward... and proceed to avoid making eye contact with him, or talking too much to him, or even accidentally touching him, not even a simple bump.
Sometimes it looks like I freakin' hate him.
My brain keeps telling me to chill out, that if he liked me, he would have said something by now. For all I know, he probably thinks I like one of his friends and he's just playing the role of supportive friend. So I just keep the distance, even if all I want to do sometimes is inform him how much I look forward to seeing his lovely face and hearing his lovelier voice... how often I have to remind myself not to touch him, just so I won't be one of those girls (I shake my head each time I see a chick getting touchy-feely with a dude that clearly doesn't like her. It's pretty cringeworthy).
At times I feel like just being straightforward and telling him how I feel.
You make me feel funny. My heart races, my knees wobble, I can't see straight, and I hold my breath when I see you smile. You captivate me... even if I try so hard to make it look like you're just another dude friend. I find you to be extraordinary.
But of course, I then think of how I feel when someone I don't like professes his admiration for me... so I shut up.
If he liked YOU, he would TELL you. Guys do that when they find a girl they like... just look at MGH!
On Saturday, I spent most of the day with him (of course, it wasn't just us, it was a small, chill group of his friends) at his pretty house (looking at the decorations I just angrily thought of my mom. Why does MY mom refuse to add color to the house?! Black and white and gold... what kind of shit color scheme is that?! And why don't we have bookshelves?! Bunch of Neanderthals, we are). It was a good time... even if his mom gave me some icedtea drink that I'm still sort of confused as to what it was (Southern Comfort? Something like that. I drank it straight, on the rocks... after having only eaten--besides breakfast-- a protein shake. Not smart of me, guys, not smart). He even has dogs that are adorably affectionate, but back off before dogs reach that "annoyingly clingy" level.
Anyway, so I'm all comfortable and bubbly.
Then that stupid thing that always happens to me happened to me:
My heart was dropkicked all while some stupid, sentimental music played in the background.
MGH started this trend back in our Cancun summer of '09. The time my heart broke in slow-motion in front of a Margaritaville as the Amelie theme song played in the background.
This time, it happened outside of a pub. Although... the music was played a couple of minutes prior to the actual event. I'm talking about listening to a cover of Willie Nelson's "Always on my Mind" followed by "I would walk 500 miles."
As the songs played, I scoffed to myself... Very appropriate... how ironic.
But the songs did help me acquire some courage to convince myself to finally affectionately hug Darcy when it would come time to walk out of the pub in a few minutes. I had convinced myself I'd do it.
All was going well... he was leading, and I wasn't too far behind, then I stalled, waiting for another friend to finish his conversation with some other dude.
As I stood outside the pub I turned to see Darcy and his bestie were still walking full speed ahead, without turning back.
I was parked in the complete opposite direction, it wasn't like I was going to hunt these guys down to say goodbye.
Instead, I stayed put in front of the pub, waiting for the guy to finish his conversation, while watching Darcy's frame quickly disappear from my sight.
Not again. Not again.
I then made eye contact with his other friend.
Him: Well... that's kinda fucked up that he just left like that...
I shrugged, as is customary when I feel bummed, but realize there's nothing I can do-- when I realize things aren't mutual.
I said my goodbyes to the rest of the people, and headed in the opposite direction, alone (Oh my god, when I got home I was scared SHITLESS after I clearly felt like someone was rushing towards me from behind as I was fumbling with the keys to open my front door. I seriously thought I was going to get murdered, so I dropped everything in my hands and gripped on the Pyrex casserole I was holding. I was ready to smash that thing against a motherfucker's temple if I had to. But when I turned around, no one was there. Piss-my-pants-worthy, that scare. I swear).
This helped cement that no matter how strong my attraction might be, his end just isn't there.
It didn't keep me from hitting up the movies with him Sunday night, however.
As long as he allows for me to be around him, I'll keep choosing to be around him.
No one makes me feel the way he does... still. This girl belongs to him.
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