So maybe he doesn't sound like the greatest guy. But then again, you don't know the whole story...
After having been dumped by Fuckface, sad and upset and drunk, and blowing off some mad steam, I hooked up with the Math Teacher. It was my decision. I stand by it. He seemed like a nice, fun, harmless guy in my group of friends. He told me I was beautiful and sexy about five million times. Super validating. When I decided it was time for me to leave, he wanted me to stay. But I wanted to go. He walked me down to the street and put me in a cab. And texted me to make sure I got home safe.
When out with all our mutual friends, he didn't act like anything had happened. He didn't kiss and tell. He said nothing. That - while should be the way people always are with personal, private matters such as these - is not the way they often are. He didn't brag. He didn't try to get more out of me. We talked like friends. We laughed about Sunday. We walked down the street together at the end of the night. I got in a cab. I went home.
Out for a friend's birthday two days later, the whole gang went crazy all over town. We drank and danced. I was too drunk (again) and tired and sad. I made out with the Math Teacher half the night. And danced with him. At the end of the night, I said I wouldn't go home with him. I told him - I'm tired. And I'm sad. "I don't want to hook up with you." "That's okay," he said. "Come over anyways...I'll take care of you." And he did. I went over and nothing happened. Not even more kissing. He held me ALL night. ALL night. I don't think Fuckface ever did that. He was always too hot or too tired or couldn't get comfortable. In the morning he made me breakfast and we watched a movie. A "Rock" movie. Random. He walked me down to the street again so we could get a cab. "Maybe we should go on a date?" he asked. I thought this a really weird, unlikely turn of events. "Sure," I had said. What did I have to lose? What else did I have to do?
He took me to Founding Farmers for dinner. The conversation was random and funny and good. He paid. I had a moment in the restroom where I was looking in the mirror and for the first time in awhile now, I was having fun. I felt good about myself again. We had the lamest, worst peck of a kiss outside a cab and I went home alone.
He hadn't called. Or texted. Or emailed. Oh well, I had thought. I guess he didn't like me. It doesn't really matter, because I didn't like him. Not really. I mean, I don't even know him. And I'm a heartbroken trainwreck. We'll just be friends. No biggie. But I saw him out, with all my friends again. He was attentive. He asked me if I wanted to go bowling the next week. I said: "You wanna go out with me again?" "Why wouldn't I?" he asked incredulously. "Didn't we have fun?" "Yes. We did." I said back. And that is true. We really did - have a good time. "But you didn't call me," I said casually. "OH," he said for a moment. "Well I knew I'd see you here." "That's not good enough," I said. "You have to call or text after a date." "I'm an idiot," he said. "I can text you. I'll text you all the time." "Alright, we'll go bowling," I agreed.
He texted me. A lot. Every day. All day. About nothing in particular.
I blew him off for bowling. I was too tired and depressed in reality. I told him I was sick.
He texted me all day every day. Asking me how I was feeling. What symptoms I was having. Was I eating anything? Tuesday he rescheduled our date. Instead of bowling we had dinner.
Dinner at Darlington House in Dupont. Again he paid. Again the conversation was good. We went back to his place and watched some tv and made out a little. Nothing major. I told him that I thought he had the wrong idea about me. Because our first encounter was so casual. And that on top of that I was a mess and just broke up with someone and didn't know if I was able to really do anything with him. He said he didn't expect anything. "But I'm a mess!" I urged him to comprehend. "You are kind of a mess," he said. "I'm not fun right now," I said. "Let me decide what is fun," he said.
He told me he stopped seeing another girl (a girl I knew he was also seeing, I just didn't care) because he wanted to be with me. I told him he didn't have to do that. That I hadn't asked him to do that. That we weren't ANYTHING. That we were "cool." "I don't wanna be cool," he said. "But we are," I simply repeated again.
I was hanging out with our mutual friends. "What's going on with you and the Math Teacher?" one mutual guy friend wanted to know. "I don't know. Nothing," I said. "You hang out all the time," the friend came back at me with curiosity... "He actually likes you. He's just worried about being the rebound guy." "But he IS the rebound guy. Isn't he?"
We rescheduled our bowling date for Friday night.
Tomorrow night we're going bowling.
In short, I don't know why everyone reading this blog hates him so much. Yeah we hooked up. Maybe that was lame of him. Yeah I'm sad and depressed and often drunk and maybe not ready to date. But I was honest with him. And you know what - we've been SORTA hanging out/dating for 5 weeks. 5 weeks! And I haven't done anything but 13 year old PG kissing since that first night. And he's still dating me?????!!!!! Maybe I'm the greatest hookup he's ever had in his life and he MUST HAVE A REPEAT OR DIE (which I find really unlikely) or maybe he likes me??? I don't know guys. What I do know is:
I don't give a shit. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tried of having no fun. He is fun. And funny. And nice. And a distraction. And treats me WELL ENOUGH. And did I mention he was TALL and HOT???
So there you go...don't hate on the Math Teacher. Because I don't.