Operation ITNOWIT #11
- my place
- Thursday 6/14/12
- deli sandwich
- $11 (I treated to make up for B buying my movie ticket)
B is a keeper. He’s so thoughtful and kind and generous. Really. It would be great if I, you know, felt my pulse speed up or my knees go weak at the sight of him or something. Perhaps I’m just too old for that giddy, schoolgirl crush feeling. Or perhaps he’s just a lovely friend, nothing less and nothing more.
Last Thursday B came to my place for another afternoon of Boggle. It was the first time I’d seen him in more than a week. (He sent me a postcard from the conference in Las Vegas.) After he arrived we walked to an awesome co-op grocery store where they make great deli sandwiches. B had never had one, so I was happy to introduce him to them. We brought our lunch back to my house and he told me about the conference, which sounded incredibly emotionally intense.
We played Boggle and talked about books. I asked him what he read as an adolescent, and he didn’t have an easy time answering. I find we’re very different in that way–B doesn’t really go on about favorite things (or any things). I am in love with lots of things, and still find joy and comfort in so many of the books/music/movies I discovered in adolescence. And as I’ve mentioned, I can talk about things I love quite a lot. This quality could either amuse or annoy people, I imagine.
Anyone who’s known me for more than five minutes, then, will inevitably become familiar with my love for Leonard Bernstein, Russian composers, and musicals, among other things. “Lenny” is a household name in my family. At one point early in my acquaintance with B, we were talking about music and it popped into my head that someone had once told me they’d had a New Kids on the Block pillowcase as a kid (and she’d kiss her favorite one, but I left that part out). I asked B if he’d had anything like that and said that if I had a pillowcase with my favorite musicians on it, Leonard Bernstein would be on one side, and Sergei Rachmaninov would be on the other.
Can you guess where this is going? B handed me a box. Inside was a pillowcase. With Lenny on one side and Sergei Vasilevich on the other. Seriously. I said “wow” and “thank you so much” a lot. And in my mind comments like “You sure know the way to my heart” and “You’re a keeper,” were thought and unsaid. I love the pillowcase. I like B. Other than his lending me his arm up and down stairs, we still have not touched.
I would like to be someone who’s comfortable giving hugs. Friendly hugs would be a good place to start. But since I’m only comfortable giving one-armed hugs while steadying myself with my free hand, it usually just doesn’t happen. And there grows this “don’t touch me or I’ll fall over” wall. I could have hugged him sitting there on the couch after I’d opened the gift, but I did not. Side by side sitting hug? So awkward.
When I go in circles about these issues with my friend she says, “You know what might help you figure out if you like him? Kissing him.” (She’s one to talk. She’s a fellow introvert, and a twenty-four-year-old virgin with just as many issues as I have.)
I can’t be the initiator because I don’t know how I feel and I don’t want to be misleading. I can’t say, “I’m not sure how I feel about you, so I think you should kiss me and see if that sways me one way or the other.”
Most people would say that if I still don’t know after all this time, then that’s my answer. And part of me thinks that’s true. But there are some people, fellow introverts, who do understand and don’t believe that just because I don’t feel head over heels right now doesn’t mean the feelings won’t come. And so I continue to waffle and ask myself again and again: Are the romantic feelings simply not there? Or is it possible that I just need to give it time?
And it’s possible that B doesn’t like me that way, either. It’s possible that he’s just that nice and just that generous. Possible, but not likely.