Thursday, December 4, 2008

In Vino Veritas

Still off-kilter from last night.

I don't quite know what happened. I'm more than a little shell-shocked by the whole thing (in a good way. I think. I'm pretty sure.) I'm just, frankly, without words... which is not good for a blog post, and also because I want to share. Because I don't even know what to make of what happened last night...

Monday was the penultimate day of classes. Muckraker totally ignored me which only gave credence to my friend's message that he just isn't in to me. Nonetheless, I had dressed up that day... (yes, kinda with him in mind...still hoping, ya know!)... but I was resigned when he had zero interaction with me, and I took this to mean that--Yes, he really doesn't like me.

Yesterday was the last day of classes. I didn't bother making an effort this time in the way that I looked since evidently I could have a paper bag over my head and it would have the same effect. Class was terrible, (as usual!) but afterwards a group of students were hanging about and Muckraker asked if I'd like to join them for drinks. Obviously this surprised me, but I thought sure, why not.

Walking to the pub Muckraker asked me questions about myself that indicated he had been paying some sort of attention to what I had been saying. He started probing for my life story, which I felt was a bit odd given his previous lack of attention to me at all.

One of our professors joined a group of 6 of us at the pub, and though I was seated next to Muckraker he spent most of his time talking to our prof. There were a few seemingly flirtateous comments directed towards me that--again--left me feeling puzzled, but I spent most of that early evening talking to another friend.

We left that pub, and a few members of our group also left, but a couple of people decided to hit another pub for more drinks. Mind you, I hadn't had anything to eat that day other than a few pretzels and egg drop soup, and so my head was kind of spinning. Perhaps I should have thought better of it, but I decided to join the group for another round. Muckraker was there and I kind of got the impression he was into another girl in our group. Given that she is everything I'm not (slim, blond, perky, beautiful), I didn't blame him, but also didn't really care.

The group stayed at the second pub for about an hour. I felt like Muckraker spent his time focused on the girl next me. The group was leaving, and I was getting ready to go as well, but Muckraker put his hand on my arm and asked me to stay a bit longer, he wanted to talk to me. Honestly, I kind of assumed he wanted to ask me about the girl next to me to figure out what her situation is, but he didn't mention her at all.

I don't remember how our conversation got started. All I know is that the last time I felt such a connection with someone was prescicely 9 years 1 month and 27days ago. (No, get your minds out of the gutter-- not that kind of connection.) (Now, of course this kind of makes me nervous because I've also carried a bit of a torch (well, more like a tealight these days) for that person for--- oh--- say--- 9 years, 1 month and 27 days. When I fall, I fall hard.)

{Warning, florid prose ahead... you may want to skip this section if you are a little queasy}

The time flew and stood still all at once. We talked about nearly everything there is to talk about- (Well, mostly I talked while he kept insisting he didn't have much to say in the way of his personal history. He told me I had a leg up on him since I could read all about him, and he wanted to know about me.) Well, In Vino Veritas, and all that I guess because I told him things that probably only Beth, one of my dearest & oldest friends in the world, knows about me. It was, hands down, ranking up there with the 10 best conversations and nights of my life.

The more we talked the more I started to get the sense that he might actually... possibly... could it be...???... like me. Like that. WTF!? Sooooo Confused!

He asked me how old I was. 27. He asked me if I thought 40 was too old. I said no.

I told him that up until an hour or so ago I thought that he viewed me with contempt and loathing. He laughed. A lot. I could barely think straight at this point, my head was spinning. (Probably a good thing.) I asked him why he was laughing. He said, "maybe I'll tell you some day."

We stayed until the pub closed at 1am, and they kicked us out. We helped me into my coat (and asked me, being a feminist, did I mind that? I said, no.) We walked to the corner.

"Do you still think I hate you?" He asked me.
We stood there looking at each other for a long time.
"I don't know what to make of you," I answered. "You're a cipher."

He smiled. He leaned in. For a split second I thought he was going to kiss me, and then it turned into a hug.

I don't really remember how we left it... something about seeing each other--around? Something milquetoast like that.

I walked back to my car, completely puzzled and reeling and off-balance from our conversations. I don't undertand. At all. Apparently he doesn't hate me, but I also have no idea what he's actually thinking.

I got home, and was ill (thanks alcohol! Now I remember why I don't like you!) (**No, I did not drive drunk** I only had 2 beers from 7pm-1am. Alcohol just does not sit well with me.)

I tossed and turned all night. Didn't fall asleep until around 4am.

So nervous... I feel like I could actually really fall for this one, and fall hard. Given that I can't tell what his deal is, this is probably not a wise move.

Oh Lord! Help me!

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