I mentioned earlier that I have recently gone through a break-up (The Big Split). As expected, I went through weeks of worrying that I would never meet anyone who gave me that feeling again- stomach drops, heart races, words-tumble-out-so-quickly-you-can’t-think-because-you-need-to-hold-their-attention-for-fear-of-losing-it feeling. (Well, maybe that last part is just me.) Anyway, going to an all-women’s college certainly helped fuel that thought- it’s pretty hard to find that feeling again when the only men on campus are faculty or friends. So, with that encouraging belief, I resigned myself to a no-flirting, no-dating future…at least until NYC in September.
As you’ve probably guessed, that was a) stupid and b) wrong.
A couple of weeks ago, I tagged along to a party being thrown by a friend of a friend. Not knowing what to expect, I walked in, made some quick introductions, shook hands, and returned to the people who brought me. As I was joking around with my friends, I realized my eyes kept wandering in the same direction. Over and over again, they found their way over to the corner of the room-where three people stood talking. Curious. Until I realized that they kept zeroing in on one of the three in particular.
He was leaning casually against the counter, smiling in an easy, open way. He had the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up past the elbow (I’m such a forearms girl). And his eyes were the brightest blue I had ever seen. In about five seconds, my stomach dropped, heart started racing, and I could feel a geyser of words just sitting in wait behind my lips. Uh oh.
Stop looking at him. Really. Okay, one more look. Now, you have to stop. He’s gonna notice, especially if you’re slack-jawed staring at him. Get it together. You are a mature, intelligent, VERY together adu- wow, he’s wonderful.
And so it continued for a while- the lack of control over my eyes, trying to hide that fact that I was half-invested in the conversation I was holding with my friends, hoping I wasn’t blushing- until everyone decided a drinking game was in order. A very active drinking game that involved jumping on paint cans and bricks and other assorted items (the floor was lava, after all). I was a beer and a half in, and,as a complete light-weight (I’ll admit it), was already feeling very happy and content with the world as a whole. I chose my starting position quickly, and realized soon after that I was standing near him. Blue-eyed, flannel shirt guy. And then, the words started. A running commentary began escaping my lips, accompanied by a feeling of utter horror. Shut up! He’s gonna hate you. And try to avoid you. Instead of running in terror like I assumed he would, he started laughing. Full-body, smile reaching his blue eyes laughing. He thinks I’m funny!
The game commenced-boisterously and happily, and I continued to make Flannel-shirt guy laugh. And then, he started making me laugh. We were near the back of the room (not a great place to be in the world of the game, but perfect regardless), trying not to fall into the lava while laughing at each other. With each other.
The night continued in much the same way, and I was smitten. It felt so impossibly good to feel that rush again. I wasn’t concerned with will anything happen. It didn’t matter. Just the pure fact that I could feel this again, that I did feel this again was enough. That didn’t stop me from friending him on Facebook, though. Because, really, who knows?