I know it’s been a minute, but I’m back again with another edition of One Hit Blunders! In this chapter, get ready to meet Jeremy, The DM Slider, and Jay, The Regular. Let’s start with Jeremy.
First of all, I decided to go ahead and get back on Hinge. Just for the fun of it. Mostly because I decided I wanted to go to a Bruins game (my first ever hockey game!) before I left Boston, and I thought it would be fun to use it to try to find someone to go with to the game. That failed, and I went alone, which ended up being fun because I made friends, but I stayed on. I figured with just a few more weeks in Boston, I’d have some fun and go out to some new places. Nothing wrong with trying out some things and making memories!
THE DM SLIDER
I met Jeremy on Hinge, and he seemed pretty decent. We actually had a fair amount in common, and he didn’t shit on my love of Disney, which is always a plus. He also immediately asked me out AND made reservations. Kind of a low bar, I know, but that’s dating nowadays.
After talking for a bit on Hinge, we decided to exchange Instagram handles because nowadays, that’s usually the next step, it seems. What a time. And once he had my name, man, did he slide RIGHT into those DMs. And stayed there. This isn’t the end of the world, but it just felt weird like he could’ve asked for my phone number at this point. As y’all know by now, I’m a very open person, and no topic is off-limits for me, so he asked whatever he wanted, but some things I was just sort of like, really? But we already had a date scheduled, and he had admitted to not being super experienced and a bit socially awkward coming out of COVID especially, so I figured I’d give him a chance.
As a note, though, I notice when a guy only wants to communicate via social media. I know I’m notorious for my fake number thing, but at least it’s a text message and not a social media app that serves as my primary form of communication.
The night of, he was late. To be fair, I was a bit late, too, because of the oh-so-fun experience of riding the T, but still. Where I was a few minutes late because my T got stuck, he was several minutes late simply because he didn’t leave on time. Strike one.
While he was tall, objectively attractive, and seemed to be pretty put-together and not a total creep, I just wasn’t feeling anything when he first arrived. I thought maybe it was just my annoyance at him being late. He was pretty nice, though, and very funny, so I kept it up. Sometimes a spark can grow. I also gave him points because I’d told him that it bothers me when I do a drinks date during dinner time, and I get hangry, so he let me order an appetizer even though he wasn’t even hungry. So, there’s that.
The date wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. I felt way more like I’d met a friend than I did someone I was legitimately interested in long-term, but he seemed pretty lax about it all. I think the fact I was about to move helped. So, when he asked if I wanted to go back to his place to watch TV, I figured why not. He didn’t seem creepy or weird in any way, and I was confident that I could get myself out of any situation I didn’t want to be in. So, we went back.
All we did was watch “Seinfeld,” which I’m not a massive fan of, and “Parks and Rec,” which I just started, but it was relaxing. We did kiss, but it wasn’t very firework-inducing or anything. After a bit of all that, I said I was tired and decided to go home. He at least walked me down to my Uber, which was nice. And then we just never spoke again.
I think he knew I wasn’t super interested, and in retrospect, I think the tardiness, communication, and lack of a spark just proved not to be a match on both ends. So that was the end of Jeremy. I’m pretty sure he still follows me on Instagram, but that’s it. On the bright side, I tried a new place I hadn’t been to before I left!
Well, folks, the time has come. This is the story that I have been dreading writing about ever since I finally decided to bite the bullet and start this blog.
As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, and like I have mentioned before, I typically use humor to mask my pain – and over the years I’ve gotten pretty good at it. But if you’ve come to love my blog for a laugh or two, some self-deprecation, and my amazing sense of humor, I’ll tell you right now that this chapter is not going to be like the rest. While I will try my best to sneak in a few jokes here and there, this story is still pretty recent, to me at least, and it still hurts a bit, so it might not have the same tone you’ve gotten used to. This is also one of those stories that no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to condense into the usual length of these chapters without feeling like I wasn’t really telling the whole story the way it needs to be told in order to fully understand its impact.
But, what’s just as important to me as being funny and entertaining is being honest, and being real. In this chapter (okay, maybe it’s going to be a bit of a book), I will be 100% real. Sometimes, life sucks, a lot, but that’s just part of being human. To anyone else who’s experienced a particularly crappy heartbreak, you aren’t alone and I hope that this chapter helps you realize that.
So while I already have my big glass of wine to get me through writing this first part (which will most definitely take me at least a few days to finish), and I hope you do, too (I told you to get some ready last week!) – I’ve also taken the liberty of creating a playlist for you to enjoy while reading this chapter since I can already tell that it’s going to be a particularly long one. This playlist is meant to be listened to in the order I have it in to kind of parallel the story itself, but you can totally shuffle if that’s more your thing. If you don’t drink, grab some ice cream, if you don’t like ice cream, I don’t know what to tell you.
Alright, enough with the introduction. As always, all names have been changed to protect privacy. Let’s start the story of The Rollercoaster.
Earlier this year, I was back on Bumble, yet again, but so far had not been having a lot of luck. More than anything, I was just on there for entertainment and the occasional confidence boost, but really, I was kind of enjoying being single. I had finished grad school, I was about to start a cool new job where I’d get to travel, I felt healthy, and I was really happy with my life.
I had recently read an article about astrology feng shui or something, talking about how your home can impact other areas of your life, so I was kind of taking that into account in my life as well. Not just for romantic reasons, but I felt like I was attracting a lot of positively at that time, and I wanted to keep that going. One of the things they said to do was to clear out clutter and make more space in your home, because more physical space meant you were also making more space for positive things to come into your life – and yes, that’s including love.
Then one night in January, I was on Bumble and I ended up matching with Tony. His profile was literally perfect – no fish photos, no games of “guess who?,” good grammar – the works. He was insanely attractive, and seemed like a great guy. He’s a personal trainer and massage therapist, but also teaches kids with special needs, and his profile talked about how much he loves what he does (which is a major turn-on for me considering I’m very over the guys who don’t have any work ethic), and I was extremely excited when I got the alert that we had matched.
I messaged him and asked him what his favorite food is – amazingly original, I know – but he responded with Italian, so I knew he was a keeper. It turned out that Tony is from the area, but now lives in Arizona, but was visiting Boston for the weekend. He asked me if I’d like to join him for drinks that night, and while for a moment or two I hesitated because I was kind of tired, I did end up saying yes.
However, I did almost end up late to meet because I got very invested in making myself some baked ziti and nearly thought about canceling, but something kept telling me that I couldn’t bail on this one. So, I ate my ziti very quickly, freshened up, and was on my way to the hotel he was staying at to meet him for some drinks.
I texted him that I was there, and he said he would come downstairs. The second I saw him, I froze. I have honestly never experienced anything like that before. I would say it’s kind of like the feeling I get when I unexpectedly see a picture of Liam Hemsworth and am reminded of how ridiculously sexy he is, but it was so much more. All my pre-date nerves immediately disappeared. I felt safe, I felt comfortable, I felt like this was it. This is what I’d been waiting for. I know that on the rare occasion when I fall for someone, I can fall hard but I swear I have never felt it so strongly or so quickly with anyone ever before. The way he smiled at me, I honestly felt like maybe he was feeling the same thing. It was the best feeling I’ve ever experienced.
We sat down at the bar and ordered drinks, and immediately the conversation started flowing. I told him about having recently finished grad school, the job I was about to start, my family, and studying for the LSAT. He told me about his family – including his many sisters – and his job, what brought him to Arizona, and more. I will be the first to admit that I have NEVER been a big fan of Boston accents, but oh my goodness – his is perfect. I was hanging on his every word not just because I was already so into him but because I loved the way he said everything. We had a lot in common, he made me laugh, he laughed at my dumb jokes and sarcasm, and overall we were hitting it off. Really, I felt like I’d known him for years. He was genuinely interested in what I had to say, too, which was a breath of fresh air.
He asked me if I wanted to come out with his friends after we finished our drinks, since they were in town and he wanted to see them, too, but he wanted to spend time with me since he was heading back to Arizona the next day. I agreed, so we went up to his room where I met one of his friends, we hung out there for a bit, and then headed over to Earl’s in the Prudential Center to meet the rest of his friends.
I liked them immediately. They all seemed so nice, and not at all put off by him bringing some random girl along – which I would have totally understood if they didn’t like. They welcomed me, made me feel comfortable and not like an outsider, and they seemed to really like Tony and think of him as a good guy. We all got along, so it was a good night and it made me feel even more comfortable with everything. I also thought it was absolutely adorable that he kept bragging about me to his friends and making them congratulate me on having just finished grad school.
As the night went on, and I had a couple of Moscow Mules (with gin instead of vodka – try it, I got Tony to and he liked it) in me, the liquid courage started coming out. Earlier, I had asked Tony if he wanted to see my apartment after drinks because I was talking about my rooftop views, and he said yes. Our chairs started to get a little closer, hands started getting touching under the table, and I was really excited. Not in a sexual sense, in a, “I really want to get to know him better” kind of way. Finally, he and his friends were talking about something they all had to do the next day and I leaned in and asked him if he was still coming to my place after. He said yes, after we were all done. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the connection I was already feeling, but I got a surge of boldness and whispered to him, “Oh, but I kind of want to go now.” With that, he told his friends we had to go and said good night. I told them goodbye and thanked them for letting me crash their evening, and we headed out.
On our way to the Uber, I said something about being an Empath, I don’t remember why, and he said he knew. I asked how he knew I was an Empath and he said that he’s one, too. I warned him that this does mean I’m prone to crying and feeling all the feels, and he said that was okay. He understood and said that he thought that was amazing. I think that was the first time I’ve told a guy what an emotional little thing I can be sometimes and he didn’t freak out over it or get weird about me admitting that I cry like at least once a day for no reason. While we were outside waiting, the “old me” that felt like I always needed to be sexual to keep a guy interested in me broke out for a second, and I asked him what his favorite position is. Tony replied, “This one” as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was the cutest thing ever, I for sure swooned a little bit when he said that.
I remember the whole way back, I kept saying, “I never usually do this,” which I guess isn’t exactly true, but in a way, I felt like it was going to be the first something that I hadn’t done before. I kept asking if he’d think less of me, and made him swear not to think differently about me, that this was just because he was leaving the next day, and he assured me that he wouldn’t. I made him swear. He swore it was okay, he liked my confidence, he felt a connection, too, and he wouldn’t think any less of me for acting on what we both wanted.
Tony kissed me for the first time on my apartment building’s rooftop deck. I remember the exact spot. You know that “foot-popping” I’ve mentioned before? That was the first one I ever had. I mean, I didn’t literally pop my foot, but I felt it. It was very different from the way I’ve been kissed before. I remember at one point I was looking at the view, which is pretty amazing, and I looked back at him and I caught him looking at me smiling. You know that scene in “Tangled” when Rapunzel is looking at the floating lanterns, and Flynn is looking at her and you probably thought to yourself that you wanted a guy to look at you that way? That’s exactly what it was like.
We went back to my place and talked some more before things led to where I’m sure you can imagine they did. I asked him not to go right away because I didn’t want to feel like a prostitute or like I was being used, so he stayed a while longer. We had some laughs, I felt more comfortable than I ever have before, and really, it was just perfect. We cuddled a lot, and then he had to go but told me that I should come visit him in Arizona anytime, and said that we’d hang out next time he was in town. I believed him. He asked me to walk him downstairs and I did, and right before he left he gave me another big hug, a kiss, and said he couldn’t wait to see me again.
I was over the moon happy. I fell asleep like a little kid going to Disney World the next day. I was already feeling the beginning of this being more than a crush or lust, but I really felt like it was okay. I was so convinced that this would be it. When he texted me first thing the next morning, not making me doubt for even a second that this was just going to be a one-night-stand he bragged about to his friends, I was even more sure.
Every party has a pooper, and for my blog, that party pooper was the subject of this story. I’m going to call him Bruce. I did reach out to Bruce to ask him if he was okay with me sharing this story, and he said he would prefer that I not, but considering that nothing really happened, and I’m already being nice by changing names and leaving out most identifying features, and I could easily just be super vague about who he is (he needs to realize that he’s not THAT famous), I wanted to write it anyway. So with the encouragement of my friends and family who are much more fun than Bruce, I decided to go for it – I mean, you know what they say – ask for forgiveness, not permission, right? So, here we are. Ready? Me too.
Given that Bruce is a “private” person, and I’m a nice person (mostly), I do have to be awfully vague, for which I apologize for in advance. But, I will do my best to keep this as entertaining as possible despite the fact that I can’t tell you too much information about Bruce. I’m up for the challenge!
For the sake of the story, let’s just say that Bruce is a guitarist in a very, very small band – like, two people – that comes from the land down under (sorry for getting that song stuck in your head). My parents have season tickets for the local performing arts hall near them in Sarasota, so they had tickets to see their show when they were on tour in the USA. I was at my parents’ home during that time as I was in between jobs and wanted some Florida sunshine. A day or two before the show, my dad realized that based off of the marketing of the show, and their band name, he didn’t think he would enjoy it as much as the female-crowd, so he told me I could take his ticket and go with my mom. So, I decided to go.
My mom figured that this “band” might call people up and have some audience participation moments, as their type of performance typically involves them, so she told me to dress nicely because of course I’d get called up. Low and behold, for their first audience participation moment, when they announced that they needed a “beautiful, sexy lady” to come up and join them, guess who Bruce’s bandmate made a beeline for? Me. So, I ended up onstage with his friend, Nick, to help him out with one of the songs.
I helped him out, was given a little memento as a thank you, went back to my seat, and enjoyed the rest of the show. Afterwards, I snapped a picture of my little memento and tagged the band, thanking them for a great night, and thought nothing else would happen. But I was incorrect.
As I was lying in bed, I decided to take one more look at my Instagram before going to sleep and I saw that I had a new message. I was very surprised when I realized that it was Bruce. He told me that, “He heard I completely stole the show.” I responded that I hadn’t heard that, but I’d take his word for it. And then we began talking. Apparently, it was more the side view of my butt that stole the show (let’s be real, we all know it’s pretty great) and he couldn’t help but check it out from the wings of the stage. So, we talked, we flirted. He shared a revealing picture, I shared a much less revealing picture. I could tell what we both wanted the conversation to lead to, and clearly, I’m always game for a good story, so I kept egging him on a bit until he started saying things about being lonely in bed, yada yada.
I’m not an idiot – I know that he’s like, not even D-List famous even in his home country, but because he’s a very attractive performer with an accent he could and probably does have a little bit of fun in every city. But I was willing to be part of his American tales for the sake of getting some tales of my own. He told me what hotel he was staying at, but then I got nervous. I wanted to go, but didn’t want to wake up my dogs, who would wake up my parents, and while I do sometimes feel like I missed out on the “sneaking out of the house” phase of my teens by going to boarding school, I don’t feel the need to live these moments as a 28-year old woman. To be totally honest, I also didn’t want to have to put makeup and real pants back on, either. Instead, I told him I was going to sleep but to message me in the morning and I’d come over before he left.
And that he did. He told me we wouldn’t have much time, but at least something, but only if I wanted to. I told my family that he had invited me out for coffee, hopped in my car, and drove to his hotel. I got there only for him to tell me that I had *just* missed them, they ended up leaving to go to the next city earlier than expected, and he was sorry and disappointed but we wouldn’t get to hang out. He also couldn’t believe that I actually drove over there – clearly, he doesn’t know me well.
But, since we couldn’t hang out, I told him that actually, I lived in Boston, and I knew from looking at their tour page that they’d be up that way in a few weeks, so he could make it up to me then. He agreed, saying he’d take me out for a drink and we would hang out then.
Totally an aside, but I find it hilarious that I told my family he had invited me out for an innocent cup of coffee and they went with it for my sake. To be fair, I think my brother (who found out about it last, because it’s my brother) was suspicious but didn’t want to know the truth because I’m his baby sister, my sister-in-law DEFINITELY did not buy it and I confirmed her thoughts that coffee was not on either of our minds later, and my mom is my mom – she knows when I’m lying (and not just because my right eye twitches when I lie – true story) so I’m about 99.9% sure that she knew I went over there for another type of pick-me-up, but again, didn’t want to push it because I’m an adult and I’m her child and there are some things you just do not want to know.
At this point, Nick (the bandmate I helped with the performance) and I had also exchanged some DMs, and he promised me that if I bought tickets to see their show in the Boston area, he’d upgrade me to VIP. I wasn’t sure if he’d remember, but figured I enjoyed the show, and the one in Boston was around my friend’s birthday, so I’d get some tickets for us as a present to her and see what happened as it got closer.
Well, Bruce got weird. He was following me on Instagram for a while and liking my pictures – even ones from a long time ago, so you KNOW he was trying to get in my pants – and then one day he was not. I tried to have a few conversations with him while he was traveling, nothing crazy but just recommending places for him to check out while he was in different cities, small talk kind of things late at night, and he got less and less responsive over time. I don’t know if he was getting nervous about meeting, if I was being too forward (very possible), if he had just changed his mind, or if something weirder was going on, but I could tell that that meant we were not going to hang out like he promised.
But I am very petty, so I messaged Nick again a few days before the show to ask if the offer for VIP still stood, and he said yes. With that, I made sure to pick out a very nice outfit to wear. My friend I had invited, Celia, and I met up and went to the theatre where we got our VIP bands. After getting settled into our seats, I decided to mess with Bruce a bit by snapping a photo of the stage and messaging it to him – amazingly, he responded. I told him I’d see him after the show (which would technically be our first time meeting) and he went quiet again.
We had a great time at the show and then went up for the Meet and Greet. When Bruce saw me, I could tell he was nervous. He started holding his guitar defensively in front of him, and I made a sassy comment about it not covering anything I hadn’t already seen a picture of, which actually made him laugh. We took a photo, and I went home.
We did message a bit more after that, I thanked them both for a fun night, may or may not have made some sarcastic comment to Bruce about him not following through on his promises, and carried on with my life. I decided to unfollow Bruce and their page because they were going back to another country for quite awhile and it just didn’t make sense to keep in touch.
The last time we spoke was when I ever-so-kindly told him about this blog and asked if he was cool with me using the story and he said that “his dating life is very private” but mine clearly is very NOT private, and I didn’t actually tell you his name or what he really does, so I’m kind of meeting in the middle. Compromise, right? Plus, like I said, he’s not famous – I promise y’all it’s not someone you would ever know or who you’d be excited about. If it was Liam Hemsworth, trust me, you’d know. Anyway, I’m not trying to make him mad or throw him under the bus or anything, but, this story is funny! Really, I’m the one who looks crazy because I drove to a 3-star hotel to meet someone I’d never even spoken to in real life, and then used their bandmate against them to get my own petty revenge, so honestly I don’t even know what he’s worried about.
But, it was still a cool story of what could have been a GREAT night but instead is just a “what if?” tale of the time I had a guy slide into my DMs after his show purely because of his view of my butt. It would have been a better story if he hadn’t chickened out, but everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe I’ll get to have a story with another “guitarist” or semi-famous person someday.
My Senior year of college, I was taking one of my last couple of classes to fulfill my Business Administration minor, and in the class there was a really cute guy, whom I’ll call Sam.
Sam is not American, and very much fulfilled my “type” of tall, dark, and handsome. He was smart, respectful, and even though we didn’t have the same opinions on everything, we got along well. Even though this was right after I’d met Christian and was still hung up on him in a lot of ways, I still had eyes, and Sam was definitely catching mine.
One day after class, Sam asked me if I wanted to get lunch with him, and I accepted. I’ll never forget walking across campus to grab sandwiches at Rebecca’s (man, do I miss those sandwiches) when a girl ran up to whisper to me that my skirt had gotten caught on the corner of my bag and I was exposing half of my butt to everyone nearby. Somehow, Sam either didn’t hear or didn’t make any reaction (which is funny because I later learned he’s definitely a booty guy), so after adjusting myself and getting myself a bit less flustered, we had a really nice lunch.
He did ask me out on a more formal date, but given that I was still wrapped around Christian’s finger, and Sam is also a couple of years younger than me, I said no. But, he was really nice about it, and never treated me any differently because of it so we stayed friendly even after I graduated.
Over the years, even when he graduated and moved back to his home country, we messaged quite often. He’ll be the first to admit that he pretty much always responds to any thirst traps I post, and that sliding into my DMs was his move of choice. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t like the complimentary comments and messages, because I totally did, and even looked forward to them if I’m being completely honest. I may or may not have posted a few things purposely to catch his attention. Especially as I started to realize what a horrible experience I’d had with Christian, and that he had held me back from other men a lot, I began to think more about what could have happened if I hadn’t said no to that date with Sam back in college.
So, I started putting out feelers of my own. I began initiating more conversations, allowing and encouraging them to get flirtier as time went on. Obviously, I knew that with him living in another country it would not go anywhere serious, but I felt like I had missed out on so much by not really living my life the way I wanted to, and constantly worrying about what Christian would say or do or think about what I was doing, and I just didn’t want to feel like that anymore. Plus, I had always had a bit of a crush on Sam so if he still seemed interested in me, I didn’t want to miss out on another chance to get to know him better.
After talking for awhile, I learned that he had been starting to think about making plans to come back to the States to visit friends in different cities, and the more we talked, the more it seemed that he was thinking of making that trip sooner rather than later. Eventually, he decided on dates to make the trip (after conferring with me that they’d match up with my days off from work), and we started to talk about what sorts of things we might do while he was in town.
As you might imagine, some of these things we talked about doing were of the adult variety, but considering that, from our conversations, I’d come to realize he was much more experienced than me, I was surprised to eventually find out that he was choosing to wait until marriage to have sex, so that was off the table. I would never, ever judge someone for their choices, and again, I like Sam, so I’d obviously never put him in a weird position, so that was totally okay with me, even though I knew it would be hard once he was there. Which, spoiler alert, it was.
A few of my friends at work knew about “The Classmate” that was coming to town, and considering that this was a much better (and happier) story than The Cheater, I was excited for him to get to Boston. When he got into the city, he came right to my apartment since I’d offered to let him stay at my place (unlike The Host, I do actually have a guest room) for the couple of days he was there before visiting a couple more cities, and then staying at an AirBNB when he came back to Boston at the end to fly back home.
It was really fun for me, too, because he knew a lot of good restaurants that I hadn’t tried yet. We got burgers in Cambridge, had an amazing breakfast at a diner in the South End, had Greek food, and the most amazing white chocolate macadamia cookies I have ever had.
We talked a lot, and walked a lot to and from our various dining experiences which gave us more chances to talk, and overall just had a really nice time. He also got me hooked on “The Blue Planet” on Netflix. At that point, I probably felt the most comfortable and confident with him than with anyone else I’d been with up to then, and after the first night, I wasn’t even thinking about how I wouldn’t be getting a “home run,” so to speak, because everything else was more than enough. Plus, he’s a REALLY great cuddler. He was the best at treating me exactly how I like in the bedroom, and exactly how I like to be treated outside of it, which I feel like is hard to find. Of course I’d find it with the guy who lives thousands of miles away, right?
While he was doing his tour of a few other American cities and visiting friends there, we still talked a bit, but I also wanted him to enjoy his time with his friends, and for the first time, I genuinely didn’t feel nervous that we weren’t in constant communication. Maybe because I knew it wasn’t a serious thing or anything, it was just a couple of weekends of fun, but also, I think I just know that he really doesn’t have it in him to be an asshole so I didn’t have to worry about him screwing me over or anything. It was very refreshing.
When he came back to Boston near the end of his American tour, I stayed with him for a night at his AirBNB where again, the cuddling was on point and the only thing better was the episode of “The Blue Planet” that we watched (or maybe they’re tied). Then, he stayed at my place again the night before he had to leave.
I still talk to Sam and consider him a good friend, and he has cleared me writing this and given his approval on what I can and can’t share, so I don’t want to give too much away but I will say that after being with him, I now know how Christian must have felt with me at least in the beginning of our involvement when I told him that I couldn’t have sex with him because I was waiting for marriage (oops), so I gave off this innocent vibe, but then I went in a totally different direction when engaging in any of the things that were ‘okay’ to do. Sam is very much the same way, at least with me. Gotta love sexual repression due to your religion, right?
Actually, in a lot of ways, Sam reminds me of myself and if I had to pick one person who reminds me the most of the male version of me, at least that I’ve had in my life so far, I’d say it’s him. We have similar personalities and values, we’re both empathetic and understanding, and enjoy a lot of the same types of music, shows, and just general interests. Because of that, I’d say he’s one of the few guys I’ve felt like I can truly, 100% be myself around and not feel like I’m walking on eggshells worried something I say or do might piss or turn him off.
So with all of that, plus the fact that on the last morning he bought us about $50 worth of breakfast foods from The Friendly Toast before canceling plans with friends to spend his whole last day with me, it should be no surprise that I was a bit sad when he left, and I may or may not have cried a little. But of course, he could not have been nicer and told me that even though he would like to come back to the USA someday, he hopes that I’m with a great guy by then because, “that’s exactly what I deserve.”
Really, I don’t think it was having major feelings for him as much as it was thinking, like, “Really? I could have done this five years ago and instead I shot him down for a narcissistic pothead?” combined with a bit of, “Of course, I finally hang out with someone that I like, and I like how he makes me feel about myself, and he lives in an entirely different country.” But at the end of the day, I did recognize it for exactly what it was – a couple of fun weekends with a genuinely great guy that I’m lucky to still call a friend – and didn’t romanticize the situation too much. However, he did admit that I was the motivation for making his US trip a bit sooner than planned, so for any guys in my future – I will not take your excuses for being too busy to talk to or hang out with me because he literally flew halfway across the world for me.
So yes, sometimes, timing sucks, but if you’re lucky, it can end up working out in the end – even if it’s just for a weekend or two.