I cannot believe that it has been almost a week since my last post. The holidays were, well, hectic. And trying to catch up with life that got put on hold during the holidays? Even worse.
I should probably write about the date that I had last week. We originally had plans to go out that Tuesday after class, but Brian called me while I was on the drive to class and sounded so upset. Eric’s funeral had been that day and he wasn’t taking it well- none of my friends are. He asked if we could get drinks when my class was over, and I felt like it was more important for me to be out with him than to be on a date. I talked to the guy during our break, and he asked if we could do lunch the next day then. We settled on a restaurant, and then I spent Tuesday night with Brian.
I’m going to go right out there and say it, I looked adorable on Wednesday. He was grinning like the cat that got the cream when I met up with him in the parking lot. The restaurant was one of his favorites, a Thai place in the city. We had a table right in the corner, and within minutes we were having a heated discussion about the Timal Tigers. I kept thinking about how great it was that there was a guy on my level, you know? That we had something that we were both passionate about in common. So of course this is where it goes bad.
“Was your old boyfriend into this stuff?” he asks. I know he’s referring to Peter, because on the night I drove up there my class had been teasing me endlessly. On that Tuesday I had mentioned to my girl friend in the class that I was nervous about meeting his parents, that I was never nervous about meeting parents. This guy and another of our friends walked in during the course of that conversation. “No, he wasn’t,” I say curtly, because I want to be off of this topic. I mean, who brings this up on a first date?
“Well what was he into? What was he like?” Really? You’re going to be asking me these things? I answer politely but try to steer the conversation away. Apparently I am not subtle. “I understand that you don’t want to talk about it,” he explains, “but I want to gauge how attached to him you still are.” Well knock me over with a fucking feather.
Aside from that the rest of the meal was pleasant. I didn’t really feel any chemistry, but to be honest that interlude had me thinking about Peter for the rest of the night. He kissed me on the cheek afterwards and I told him to have a great holiday, that I’d see him in class the following week.
I really cannot see myself with him. He’s incredibly attractive, witty, and intelligent, but we just didn’t have that flare. I wasn’t dying to talk to him again the next morning and I didn’t stay up all night thinking about him (I did, however, stay out all night drinking. That’s another story.)