To see Our Love Story Part 1- Click here.
To see Our Love Story Part 2- Click here.
It wasn’t long after I knew that while The Boyfriend treated me well, he was just not the one for me. And I felt guilty.
He was just so nice and didn’t do anything wrong and the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt someone’s heart.
But, I knew deep down that there wasn’t a future and that someone else gave me feelings that were completely unknown to me. And I could NOT stop thinking about Mystery Guy, either.
So, I broke it off.
A few weeks later, Mystery Guy started asking me to spend time with him again. I continued to turn him down, though, as I didn’t want to rush into anything… or maybe it was because if I said yes, that would mean I had a chance to mess it all up.
But, we continued to chat, and it was nice. Really nice. We actually spent hours upon hours chatting. Any chance we had we would be texting, chatting, or staying up late on AOL. There weren’t a whole lot of phone conversations in there, though. I didn’t want him to think I was THAT available to talk to him whenever he chose… though I was. But I couldn’t let HIM know that.
On one particular Saturday he asked me if I would go on a date with him to San Francisco to eat clam chowder in a bread bowl on the wharf. This wasn’t the first time he had asked me to go there with him. He had asked me many times before. But I just finally changed my mind.
I felt ready to take the leap and go out on our first date, so I said yes.
Completely in shock, Mystery Guy was a little in disbelief. But, I assured him that I was serious and so we made plans for him to pick me up at my sorority house the next morning.
And I remember not really being able to sleep that night. The next day was going to be big. It was going to be exciting. It was going to be memorable.
My nerves were getting the best of me and as soon as the sun was up, so was I. I needed to pick out the perfect outfit and all. I wanted to look nice, okay no, I wanted to look hot, but not trying-too-hard hot. I think I ended up in a long-sleeved plum shirt, white puffy vest with fur trim, jeans and Pocahontas-esque boots. Not so sure that would be my first choice these days. Oh, and hair curled. of course.
The house seemed extra quiet that day as I paced up and down the hallway staring at the clock. I checked the mirror many times as I paced back and forth making sure every hair was in place, that my lip gloss was on just right and that there weren’t any remnants of breakfast left in my teeth. It wasn’t even time for him to be there yet and I was already nervous.
After about the twentieth time looking out the window I spotted his black jeep pull in front of the house in dare I say a suave manner? Can jeeps drive suavely? Well somehow his looked extra cool and a giant smile immediately plastered itself across my face.
I took one last glance in the mirror, grabbed my purse and headed out the door walking as normally as possible while trying not to trip over the nothing that was in front of me. You know what I am talking about? It’s like somehow the surroundings start to blur and the cement has a magnetic pull.
I opened the door and was greeted by The Mystery Guy, looking as handsome as ever.
The drive to San Francisco is about three hours from where we were living, so things could have gotten real weird, or it could have been a good time for us to get to know one another. Thankfully, it was the latter.
I can’t remember what we talked about while driving there, though. I think I was in sortof a blackout stage that this was all really happening and I was trying my best not to just barf out nonsense. Or for that matter, just barf.
We arrived in San Francisco by the afternoon and spent the day walking up and down the wharf, hand-in-hand, which let me tell you was heart-pounding, watching the randoms on the street perform magic tricks, hunting for the Bush Man, and did a little window shopping. Before we knew it, we were starving and asked around for a good spot was to eat and ended up at what the locals claimed was the best place to get clam chowder in a bread bowl.
The day had been good so far, really good, actually.
But then at dinner things got a little weird.
He seemed… distracted. Not all completely there.
And I became worried.
Can this guy not carry on a conversation at dinner? Did I do something to annoy/upset him? Is he all looks and no brain? Did I make a mistake in coming here?
He was still cordial, and kept a sort-of conversation going, but something was off.
After dinner we hit the road, and things were back to how they had been during the day. But, I was still thinking about what had happened at dinner and why I had the feeling I did.
I felt uneasy.
I felt unsure.
I thought maybe…. maybe I made a mistake in breaking up with The Boyfriend…