Socially Awkward Romance -- The Conclusion

It's taken me a long time to figure out what I want to say. Almost six months, I guess. I wanted to post through the disbelief, the sadness, and the rage. I wanted to whine about how awful my life became and how awkward everything had become. But I didn't. I think I've been pathetic enough on this website.

Needless to say, Bryan and I didn't work out. At this point, nearly six months later, I feel very little. Or, rather, I've trained myself to feel very little. But let's start at the beginning. The beginning of the end. How poetic.

Bryan had invited me to come to a party over Christmas break. He didn't have a specific day picked. The day after Christmas, he texted me to say that the party was tonight, could I make it? I desperately wanted to say yes, but a huge storm had just hit, and many of the roads were being closed. I said I'd do my best. I remember praying to God, saying, "Please, just let me go to this party. Please, God, give me this."

They always said God works in mysterious ways.

The storm cleared just enough for me to make it out. I met up with Bryan and he drove me to Patrick, his step-brother's, house. During the trip, I discovered that this "party" was actually just five people, all of whom were really close to the Bryan and Patrick, and we would all be sleeping over. 

This was it, I thought. Tonight was the night. Finally, after months of waiting, I would find resolution.

The party (really more of a get-together) was a lot of fun. The other two party-goers were girls, one of whom was Patrick's best friend, and the other worked with Bryan's mom. The latter kept flirting with Bryan, and I hated it, but I never spoke up. I knew I had no claim on him (yet), so what would I say?

To keep a long story short, and to spare myself some dignity, I'll keep this bare bones. Bryan and I got physical. Not all-the-way physical, but physical enough. And, looking back, everything felt wrong. His kisses, while skilled, didn't cause fireworks, or even tingles. Each touch felt less like sharing and more like giving, giving of myself so that he could realize how good I would be as a girlfriend. His girlfriend. I ignored all the warning signs, the utter lack of chemistry, because I was frustrated and DAMMIT I had spent so much energy on this moment, why didn't it WORK?

It was all very, very awkward. I mean, really really awkward. More awkward that it should have been, I think. We slept in different rooms. Still, I spent the entire night feeling victorious. He had feelings for me. He must have had. Finally, my months of toil were over, and I was successful. Bryan and I would finally be together. I daydreamed of domestic situations, of the joy on my friends' faces when we became official.

The next morning, however, challenged that idea. We were still intensely awkward around each other. The others at the party seemed not to notice. I remember Bryan contradicting me about something, and I responded with, "Seriously, we are so different. How are we friends?" One of the girls replied, "Are you kidding? You guys are like the same person. You're perfect for each other."

I was overjoyed at the comment. I didn't show it, of course, but it was just what I needed to rebuild my confidence in Us. Someone else saw how good we were together. Good.

I wanted to ask Bryan about last night. What were we? How did we proceed from here? But my nerves got the best of me. He drove me home and we both avoided the topic, choosing instead to make small talk and listen to the radio. He dropped me off and I spent the day getting riddled with questions by my parents, who knew about my feelings for him. Despite my happiness at the way things had gone (I ignored how awkward it all was), I was being eaten away by my desire to solidify our relationship.

That evening, after hours of debating, I texted him. I asked him how he felt, and I confided that I had been in like with him for months and I was really confused about Us. Out of every situation I had concocted in my head, nothing came close to reality. He responded, saying that he hated to say this, but he had never liked me romantically, and last night was a mistake that he greatly regretted. He felt disgusted with himself about how he'd taken advantage of me, and he hoped that we could be friends, but he'd understand if I needed time.

I was literally shell-shocked. Every emotion bombarded me into nothingness. I couldn't move. Seriously. Moving even a finger caused pain. I sat in total, utter stillness for almost an hour. I just couldn't believe it. Not after all that time believing I was right, believing in this Us that had become such a reality for me. How was it not a reality for him? Then I internalized it all, as I am wont to do. I blamed myself for being so awkward about intimacy. I blamed my chubby thighs and cold toes. I blamed myself for not being good enough.

My mom, believe it or not, was the one to save me from it all. She came to me and made me talk through everything. As I talked, I realized that I was not to blame. He was. How dare he lead me on like that for so long? He knew how I felt. How dare he invite me to such an intimate gathering, knowing how it would look? How DARE he touch me?

I wanted to slander him, to return to school with a plot for revenge in mind. But I didn't. Thankfully, I'm mature enough to realize how bad that would be.

When the next semester began, everything was awkward. I had joined Women's Glee (and here, in the sanctity of my blog, I can confide that I did it so that Bryan and I would have continued contact. Mistake.) and I saw him constantly. It hurt like a knife in my heart. Every time he would speak, every time someone else would talk to him or about him... It was awful. It was a wound that wasn't left alone long enough to scab. I realized, as the pain refused to fade, that I had fallen in love with him. I loved him, despite his flaws, because of his flaws, all of it. In the clarity of pain I saw the future we could have had, the reality that might have been, but also could never be.

But, eventually, the pain faded. I became desensitized to the anger and hurt of it all. And still, I wanted him back in my life. Does that make me weak? I don't know. I wanted him back any way I could get him, so, I had a few drinks at a party, bolstered my courage, and talked to him.

It was awful. It felt like coming home. I had been missing his presence in my life so completely that talking to him, even small talk about how bad hangovers sucked, made me feel like a puzzle piece was fitting back into the center of my heart.

I know, I sound like Twilight. I'm sorry. Being a teenage girl is this way, especially during your first love.

I say it was awful because it tore open my scab again. It reminded me of just how perfectly we meshed, how complementary we were to one another. But, at the same time, our talking soothed the pain away. I realized that, even though I still loved him and even though I still hated him for what he did, I could be friends with him again. I could have him in my life. And that, surprisingly, was enough.

But, and I don't know how or why, my feelings changed. Now that I had his friendship, I didn't want it. I would talk to him, and we would be in sync and everything, but I didn't want it. It was too tainted, too impure. I found myself mildly disgusted by him, and disgusted with myself for liking him. Bryan wasn't great looking, he wasn't charming, he wasn't quite my brand of funny. My love goggles were fading, and I was realizing how much of a catch he wasn't.

And that's kind of where I am right now. Bryan and I are on talking terms, and sometimes we text each other when we're bored or uncomfortable, but... we're not quite friends. We're not what we used to be. But, you know what? That's okay.

Socially Awkward Romance Part 4.5

Hi guys.

I feel like it's been a while since I've posted anything, doesn't it? Well, not for you, probably. But it feels like a while for me. So there.

I'm not sure what to say, though. Things are the same. Frustratingly, miraculously, depressingly the same. I think about Bryan every day. Every hour, it feels like. Seeing him and talking to him makes my world shine brighter, and the rest of my day feels good, no matter what.

He acts like I'm his only real friend on campus. Whenever we're in a group, he gravitates towards me. When I'm talking to other people, he watches me. I'm pretty sure he doesn't realize that I can see him when he's staring at me.

Everything should be great, right? I mean, this is what a happy relationship sounds like. Except that we're NOT in a relationship. I have to describe him as "my friend, Bryan." And it hurts like a bitch when I do.

And we have a big problem. Those of you that have any knowledge of school anywhere know that December is the end of a semester. I'm currently one week from done with all of my classes. Today is my last German class, and our final is next Wednesday.

It's breaking my heart.

Because German is the reason I get to see Bryan every day. Four days of every week, I am guaranteed to get the dose of Bryan that has, somehow, become necessary to live.

Well, that's a bit melodramatic, isn't it. I sound like Bella Swan.

Oh dear.

Well, anyway, today is my last day of German. The final doesn't count-- we walk in, take the test, and leave. Auf Wiedersehen. And that absolutely terrifies me. I'm so scared that Bryan and I won't see each other as much, and this whatever-we-have will just... fade. We're both just anti-social enough to let that happen. And God, but that just feels horrible.

I want to talk to him about it. I want to be all, "Listen... I don't want to push you. I know you asked for time to suss out your feelings, and that's fine... but our time is running out. I won't get to see you nearly as much next semester, and I don't know where this leaves us. Do you like me nearly as much as I like you? "

But that IS pushing him. He should be the one to make the next move... right? I mean, I agreed to give him time to figure out if he likes me or not. I shouldn't be pestering him about it. But.... FEELS. I can't handle these feels. My heart is like this trampoline: sometimes I'm just bouncing and happy, but sometimes my leg gets stuck in the springs and I'm like, "WHYYYYY."

Is it wrong to be impatient? Is it wrong to demand honesty? Is it wrong to feel so strongly about someone when they have absolutely no obligation to care back?

Feels like it. Ugh.

Socially Awkward Romance Part 4

I haven't posted in a while, mainly because nothing really definitive has happened. Bryan and I text all the time now. I mean, like for hours, every other day. Ish. Sometimes I text him first. Sometimes he texts me first.

(Okay. To be honest, the narrative should read, "Sometimes I give in and text him. Sometimes I stay strong and wait/pray/hope he texts me. Typically, I'm a pretty weak person.")

We talk about anything and everything. Why he hates Christmas, how glorious Tumblr is. Last night, we concocted a plot for becoming crime-fighting vigilantes, only with squirrels instead of bats. It's fantastic. But, it sucks. When I'm not texting him, I'm wishing I could be texting him. When I'm texting him, I wish we could be hanging out in person. And when I see him in real person, it's like my brain turns to stupid mode. All my witty repartee vanishes. It's horrible.

So, verbally, I'm getting nothing. Bryan could be my best friend, the way we talk. It's all humor and out-joking each other and out-nerding each other. (For the record, I currently have him beat. Star Trek, baby.) But physically? He sending all kinds of signals.

"What do you mean, Jenica?" you ask. "If you are so socially awkward, how do you know what to look for when it comes to reading people?"

Well, my somewhat-snarky reader, the answer is elementary: I researched it. I went online and, in typical me fashion, googled "How to tell if a boy likes you."

Yes. Go ahead. Facepalm. I have no shame.

A lot of the websites/quizzes I read contained many of the same kinds of thought patterns. I shall list them, along with my observations of Bryan's behavior.

• Does he look at you a lot? Yes. I mean, when he talks, even in large groups, he looks my way often. Sometimes I see him looking at me anyway. I try not to "notice" too often.
• Does he angle his body towards you when sitting? More specifically, do his feet face in your direction? YES. And I thought that this was a "friends" signal, like, "Hey, we're cool, and I'm going to face in your direction, but I'm not sitting close to you or whatever." You know? But, apparently sitting farther away is totally good. It's like he wants to look at you, no matter what. So... good to know. And I mean, it got to the point that he would just put his feet up on the bench between us and shit.
• Does he try to put his arm over your chair? No. Well, not quite. We sit on a bench while waiting for German, and he usually puts his arm of the back of the bench. Because we sit at opposite sides, the arm isn't really around me at all.
• Does he treat you differently than he does to others? Yes? Maybe? I mean, he talks to me more, but... I don't really know. That's sort of a hard thing to gauge. I want to say yes, but I know that my hormonal brain could be making up all sorts of things. I'm really only cataloging the concrete stuff. I know that walking through doors together is always an awkward experience.
• Pay attention to his friends. If they tease him a little, about ANYTHING, that's a good sign. I don't spend time with any of his friends. I've only met his roommate, and that was at the Glee Halloween party. 
• Does he ever tease you? Our entire relationship is teasing and joking. Yes. Does he ever poke fun at me? Yes, but never meanly.
• Does he imitate you? Not to my knowledge, but I barely notice what I'm doing. Nervous hands. I'm always playing with my hair or a piece of paper or my fingernails. I don't pay attention to it.
• Does he punch/hit you playfully? No. We don't really... touch. I'm a pretty non-touchy person. I think he might be, as well. Have we touched? Obviously. We've kissed. DO we touch? Barely. 
• Does he seem to go out of his way to be around you? Huh. Um. Kinda? I got out of a German midterm like five minutes after him, but I found him not far from the building, and he was walking towards it. I was a little surprised, but I didn't think much of it. Looking back, that was pretty odd. He ended up joining me on a dinner date with a friend. Awkward story? I was meeting with the friend to talk about him. So, yup.
• Does he act jealous when you talk to other boys? Yes, a bit. There's a boy in our class named Jay, and whenever I talk to him, Bryan notices. He doesn't really do anything to like, stop us, but... for example, I was looking over some notes before a quiz and Jay scooted close to me to peek over my shoulder at them. Bryan stood up and moved to my other side. He could have been looking at the notes, but... I like to believe that he dislikes Jay getting that close to me :).

So, that's what I've got. I know, it's creepy as fuck. I'm sorry. If I was a thirty-year-old man, they'd lock me up for this level of observation. But... I don't know. Maybe all romances are this hard. I wouldn't know. I just... I'm tired of trying with NO results and, if I have to eagle-eye his feet to make myself more secure, I will. Goddammit.

I just... I know he likes me. The physical signs say it. Our story (recap of relevant info: We went on a date. He knows I have a crush on him. He isn't pulling away.) says it. I FEEL it. But... I hate this. I hate that my feelings keep growing and growing and he could still turn around and say, "Well... I don't like you. Let's be friends." I hate that every time we hang out, I have to explain to my friends that I have a "kinda-sorta date with Bryan." It's humiliating. I feel like everyone feels sorry for me, when they have no reason to do so. I'm happy but, I wish this were more real.

I feel like I'm sketching this gorgeous work of art in graphite. It's beautiful and it would be really hard to destroy, but... it could be erased. Bryan could take a chunk of rubber to it and ruin it all. I want to start using ink now. I want to Sharpie the fuck out of this drawing. Yeah, we could still burn the paper, but... well... you get the picture. No pun intended.

Let's see... is there anything else to say? We're having dinner next week. I'll be sure to write it all out in grotesque detail.

Can I be honest with you guys for a second? I'm terrified of this blog. Even as I write it, I feel horrible. What if, one day in the future, Bryan finds this? I'm sorry if I've mentioned this fear before. But really. This could break our relationship. Unfortunately, I'm an open-book person. I don't internalize well. So, it's either this, I talk about it to all my friends (even the mutual ones), or I combust. This is the safest of the three. Still, I can just see us months in the future, and I call him "Bryan" by mistake, and I have to explain that I wrote an extensive blog about my feelings for him.

Dear God.

Socially Awkward Romance, Part 3

Hey guys. So. Yup. We've got a problem.

You see, Bryan and I are at his "not-dating-but-hanging-out-with-possibility-of-romance" thing... and I'm afraid I'm very much more smitten with him now. By not putting pressure on the romantic side of our relationship, we've gotten comfortable with teasing each other and being us, and it's really great. Like, constant bubble in my chest, we text constantly and I love it, great. I call him names, he makes fun of me for making grammatical mistakes in my texts.

That said, we haven't really hung out since the first date. Okay, listen, for the purposes of this blog (and my silly teenage heart), any time we spend together, hang out or otherwise, is known as a "date." Because for real.

So I suppose I should start from after the first date, and catch you up.

I felt pretty horrible as time passed. I just... I felt like he was trying to let me down easy, and he didn't know how to be nice and honest at the same time. I also secretly feared that he was going to play games with me somehow. Like we'd hang out and I'd fall desperately in love with him, and he'd turn around and go "Well... I've figured out my feelings. I don't like you. SO SORRY."

Actually, that's still a bit of a real fear. But anyway.

After the date, I resolutely did not text him, even though I wanted to. God, it feels like I want to text him ALL THE TIME. I'm sick. After three days of no real texting, my hope had waned to near-dissolution. I was so sick of being first texter. You know what I mean? Some people receive texts unwarranted all the time. Some people have to actively seek out a conversation if they want one. I'm of the latter, usually. And I hate it. I'm a decently cool person. Obviously you think I am, reader of this shamefully self-obsessed blog of mine. Why would you read this otherwise?

Sunday was just... not cool. Our date and the following conversation was on Wednesday. All morning, I was just like, "Welp. This is it. I guess I should have known. How will I face him now? God. I hurt."

Then he texted me. Cue the sappy music and time-lapse shots of flowers blooming.

"What's shakin', puddin' pop?" he writes.

He called me puddin' pop. Just. Stop. Too Much. Joy. Here.

We end up texting for hours. He wanted to hang out that day (HE WANTED TO HANG OUT YUSS) but, alas, I was busy. So we just texted a lot instead.

Today was no different. I originally texted him about... something. I do not remember. We've been texting ever since. That started at around 4:00 pm, it 9:45 right now. He's doing NaNoWriMo, as am I (I write so goddamn much, I might as well), and now we're writing buddies as well and awkward-dating-not-dating buddies.

This really isn't much of a post. I don't have a ton to say. I'm just... happy. Really, perfectly content. And I want record of such emotions in case something horrible happens in my future and I need a perk-up.

Bryan makes me laugh. He makes everyone laugh, really. He's a brilliantly intelligent, funny guy who is somehow magically just as awkward as me (well, maybe not AS awkward, but you'd have to be a fail at society to be on my level).

Little update-- I gushed at him. Ugh. Loser. He called himself a freak and I said it was horrible to say that. He asked why and my response was, "Because freak has a highly negative connotation that shouldn't be associated with you. That might sound a little gushy, but really."

He goes, "Ohh p'ffaww. I'm nothing to holler home about."

HOW DOES THAT READ? Is this, "I'm secretly very pleased and hiding it," or "Please don't say such things, it makes me feel awkward"??

This is my life. My entire emotional existence shifts with each text message we exchange. I am so, utterly, hopelessly, silly. And maybe a little, tiny bit in love. But shh. I can't be yet, so don't tell my brain.

ANOTHER UPDATE.

I have been the mediator of a conversation between my best friend, Emilie, and Bryan. We're all doing NaNoWriMo and Bryan's word count is ridiculously high, so Emilie was like, "You are a dark wizard practicing black magic." His response.

"I am the darkest of wizards. I am the most Piceous fucking Sorcerer this side of Hogwarts. I'm getting on straight achromatic occult shit, dishing out sable spells and obsidian hexes, atramentously bewitching them bitches, ensuring they are at my most egregiously slick, stygian beck and call. Bow before the Dope-Ass Master of all Onyxian Delirious Thaumaturgic Biznasty, ladies, because it's me. [BRYAN FREER] 2012"

Panties = dropped. I can't. I need to marry this man. I need to have his babies. You don't understand. I don't even fully understand. I'm going to go be a ball of goo over here. You guys have fun being you.

Socially Awkward Romance Part 2

So. Huh. Um, well... I'm not sure how I feel about what I'm about to relate to you. Whomever you may be.

Today was the Date. We went to Noodles & Co. and sat down and talked about movies and life and being geeks. I told him about how I was homeschooled, and he told me about how he took forever to find a niche. I kind of went off on Hans a little bit (not in the angry way, in the frustrated and confused way), about which I promptly felt horrible, but Bryan didn't seem to mind too much. All in all, we had a good time and things went well.

After we finished eating, I decided to walk back to his dorm with him before heading home. Despite the freezing drizzle that is currently bombarding the eastern Midwest, we strolled along, talking continuously about whatever came to mind. I really shouldn't have worried about what to say-- we had not a one single awkward silence. Once we got back to his dorm, we said good-bye and I went home.

For propriety's sake, I texted him and said, "I had a very nice time." We chatted a little and I said something along the lines of, "Sorry about the Hans thing, seriously. I don't really dislike him. Hey, things won't get awkward-er now, will they?"

"What do you mean?" he responded.

"Well, we just went out on a date, and I'm secretly hoping there will be another one... will things get awkward now?" Yes, I out-and-out hinted at another date. Subtlety level = -9000.

This is where I get a little disappointed/confused/happy. He replies with something along the lines of, "Well, I'd rather things didn't get awkward, but I have to let you know that I'm not sure I feel the way about you that you feel about me. I don't NOT like you, but I'd rather us hang out and get to know each other better before drawing any conclusions."

Okay. I'll approach this a few different ways, in chronological order of thought-process. My first thought was, Oh God. No. Not this. He doesn't like me. I was immediately disappointed. I still am. I mean, I kind of went ahead and imagined this grandiose future in which we were boyfriend and girlfriend and we fell in love, etc. I'm a middle-schooler, what can I say?

But then my brain kicked in. He didn't say he DIDN'T like me, in fact, he made that point clear. And we kissed. So it's not like I'm totally off-base, here. And he's right, getting to know each other as people is more important than falling into a half-cocked romance.

Heh, half-cocked. Heh.

I jumped into a relationship senior year, with a guy with whom I was in a play. Our main form of communication was texting and we barely had a conversation before we were boyfriend/girlfriend. The word "love" was bandied about two weeks later. I hated it. He was clingy and emotionally demanding and sexually way not what I was ready to handle. But, I thought it was normal and that I was the weird one, so I tried to repress it. I mean, he was twenty and I was sixteen. I'd never had a boyfriend before, and I had no idea what to expect.

Needless to say, it ended quite badly. I repressed my disgust and discomfort for so long that it eventually just erupted out of me, and I really hurt him. I didn't say anything too horrible, mind you, but he was so emotionally insecure that my "I'm just not interested in that kind of stuff" translated to "I'm not interested in you, and you like WEIRD ASS SHIT."

Actually, that's not too far from literal reality. TMI? TMI.

So, I talked with him about my problems, and he got even clingier. It was like he was clutching me close for fear that I would fly away, to reference the idiom. I couldn't handle it and I called the whole relationship off. He crumbled. He shot me woeful glances during rehearsal and spoke around me, as if I didn't exist. It was absolutely horrible.

And that all bubbles down to this one sentence: I never want to find myself in a relationship with a relative stranger EVER EVER AGAIN. So Bryan's words made absolute sense to me.

But then my heart made a logical comeback: Isn't that what dating is? Getting to know each other to see if a romantic relationship is in the cards? I mean, that's always been my definition of dating. It takes at least three or four dates to get to relationship-level, and then things progress from there. Hold on, definition coming...  Urban Dictionary defines a date as:

 "Two people getting together for an activity when the possibility of romance between them has been broached but not ruled out. Since the exploration of romance is the purpose of a date, merely asking someone out on a date is sufficient to broach the subject. Dates may or not continue once a couple have entered into a romantic relationship. The word "date" may be used to identify a get together between two people not romantically involved, but this usage is meant to convey irony, since such a meeting is not a date in the true sense of the word."

 That's Urban Dictionary. You don't fuck with that shit. So, essentially, Bryan wants us to date. He just doesn't want to call it dating. So... I'm disappointed/confused/happy.

I'm not sure if this puts "Socially Awkward Romance" on hiatus or not... I mean, this really is a socially awkward romance... but I don't want to write about being friends with someone. I will probably continue with it, honestly. I like-- reading myself type? Ew.-- far too much to abandon this thing completely. Plus, who knows? Centuries from now, anthropologists will dig through the "World Wide Web". They may stumble upon (SEE WHAT I DID THERE? :D) this blog and think, "Ah, what a quirky and uncomfortable romance story. We should reenact this as a testament to how romance has changed since the invention of [insert technological device that helps romance somehow]."

Alright, that likelihood is low. But I have hope.

That's about all for this blog entry. I'm going to sell out a little here and tell you to drop me a comment if you a) like my blog, b) dislike my blog (if so, why?), or c) read the damn thing at all. Honestly, if you're reading my shitty blog entries, you deserve a happy-Jenica-brownie. So... I want to dwindle and type more because I have homework to do... but good-bye. I'm going to go be responsible. Ew.

Socially Awkward Romance 1.5

I think this might me too much excitement for me. Seriously. I should not be allowed to ponder my suddenly successful love life this much.

I guess I knew this was coming. Perhaps I should explain.

I asked Bryan out on Friday. Well, technically Saturday, but hush. Today is Monday. I've had three full days to replay the entire me-asking-him-out-us-kissing scene as many times as possible. I have, in my typical fashion, analyzed, cross-examined, and blushed about it to death. I have examined every way I would have done things differently, and have calculated the likelihood that my reactions were "adorkable," and not just terrible. These numbers grow steadily more pessimistic as time passes.

I tried to text him yesterday, at the advice of a friend. Well, I did text him. He responded well, and then I got overexcited and didn't know what to write and texted something relatively off-topic and awkward. God. I really shouldn't be allowed near boys. At least not attractive, funny, smart ones. I turn into a fool.

So, every night I lie in bed and say, "Time to go to sleep!" I let my thoughts drift, hoping that they will take a sleepy turn so I can wake up well-rested. But lately, I find myself thinking, "Today was a good day, [insert trivial stuff in here]. I have some great friends. I wonder what Bryan's friends are like. I should ask him about them when we go to Noodles. You can learn a lot about someone by what their friends are like. What does that say about me? That I'm awesome, I guess. What else should we talk about? I suppose we could talk about music, too. That's usually a good safe-- I'M NOT TIRED AT ALL! Ugh, brain, stop thinking about Bryan and go to sleep. That safe blackness.... Bryan looks good in black. I wonder if I look good in black. Doesn't everyone? Bryan wears a lot of black, though. I wonder if he was an emo, back when emos were cool. I was a bit of an emo. I bet we can bond over tha--- GODDAMMIT. BRAIN. SLEEP. COME ON."

This is ridiculous. I have a midterm on Wednesday in Organic Chemistry, and I sit there and think, "And that's an aprotic solvent, so Sn2 reactions would work, and geez this is boring. What will I get at Noodles? I'm kinda sick of the Truffle Mac. Maybe I'll get something Asian. I wonder what Bryan will get. Hmm.... can I deduce what he'll order, like Sherlock Holmes? That'd be fun, if I got it right... and then the cyanide ion nucleophillically attacks the carbocation, and whoa, did I just get way off track there? Oops."

Help! Hormones have taken over my body! O^O

This is a bit of a filler post, I guess. I just needed to push some of my anxiety out. Maybe I'll be able to focus better now. And I very very strongly doubt Bryan is anywhere near as affected by all of this, which makes it that much worse. It's one lousy date. I went on a date with HANS, for Christ's sake. Bryan's probably totally chill about all of this. I feel so sorry that he has to handle me. I'm a mess. Is this anywhere near normal? I doubt it. Blah. Girls. We suck. I suck. :(

Socially Awkward Romance, Part 1

Hiya. So, some big things have happened recently that make me want to place their memory in cyberspace forevermore. This is the chronicle of my socially awkward romance. We have a deliciously uncomfortable start.

As many of you can tell by the posting date, I am writing this entry the Saturday before Halloween. If you are or have ever been a college student, you know what that means: parties. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

If you read "Socially Awkward Courting," you'll remember that this guy, Hans (not his real name), liked me, but I wasn't really aware that we were more than friends, and the whole thing blew up in my face. You'll also remember that I had a mondo-crush on this other boy, Bryan (again, not his real name), who was Hans' little. You can see that this is a... delicate situation. And I am a bull in a china shop. Oh well. (Actually, that's not a good analogy, because bulls just avoid the object. Mythbusters, man. Cracking down on the idioms.)

Alright, let's combine these two concepts: there was a Glee party last night, which both Bryan and I attended. We spent a lot of the night together, being awkward friends. We both smoke weed, so we ended up doing that a bit, too. Sorry, if I have any readers out there that take moral offense to my drug use. I'd combat that with, "It's a party! Underage drinking!"... but I don't care. You can accept my recreational pursuits or not, it's your choice.

So we were both high, watching all the drunk people act stupid. It's a pretty fun time, not gonna lie. But the loudness (both audibly and socially) got to me, so we decided to head down to the basement of the party house and chill. There were people down there, but they were in small crowds and the music was much softer. We sat on the empty couch and chatted a bit. When I say chatted, let me be clear: we had brief spurts of conversation with a lot of silence mixed in. I was literally floundering for conversation topics, and none were coming to mind. We sat like that for a while, just talking and observing.

Enter Chris, who plays such a cool/horrible part that I'm using his real name. Chris is dressed up as Abe Lincoln which, for some reason, was really important to me at the time. "You guys," he says, waving a finger back and forth between us drunkenly. "That's a thing, isn't it? Yeah. You guys are going to happen. I bet it's gonna happen tonight, isn't it?"

Just in case anyone isn't clear on this point, he means sex. Sex is going to happen tonight.

"Ah... no... um.." we both mumble, looking everywhere but at each other and Chris.

"Jenica," Chris says, "Do you have feelings for Bryan?"

I feel my face getting warm. "Um... [silence] no?"

"No, Jenica," Chris replies. "Look me in the face and tell me you don't have feelings for Bryan."

Oh dear sweet Jesus. Let's just stop and realize how horribly awkward this is, especially for me. I've been pushing myself to ask this guy out for what, eight weeks? And THIS, of all scenarios, is how Bryan finds out? THIS?? Oh, please no. And I'm high.

Essentially, this was that moment where I went, "Please, God, turn me into a puddle. Or vapor. Or anything else that can't answer that question. But, alas, I remained human, so I answered.

".... You really suck Chris." My face is bright red, and I'm staring at my lap.

Bryan and Chris both laugh. "Alright, I'll leave you two to figure that out, then. Oh yeah, this is happening," Chris grins. And then, to put the cherry on top of the awkward cake, Chris continues.

"Earmuffs, Jenica," he says.

"What?" I reply, not understanding how we went from this awkward shitfest to outerwear.

"Oh--" Chris replies, exasperated. He covers my ears with his hands. This does nothing to impede my ability to hear. "Do you need anything, Bryan? You know. Because I have stuff."

He means condoms, FYI.

"Oh, um... no," Bryan says. I'd describe his actions more, but I have no idea what they were. I cast nary a glance his direction during this whole affair. "That's okay."

"Oh, okay," Chris returns, removing his hands. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it, but you better come to some conclusions tonight." (This is paraphrased. I was so mortified I wasn't really listening closely.)

He leaves, making us the last two people in the room. Silence.

"So," I begin, "do you maybe... wanna go out sometime?" Because what the FUCK ELSE am I supposed to say at this point??

"Yeah, sure," he responds, like we were talking about the weather. I finally look over at him. He LOOKS like we were just talking about the weather. Screw him and his fucking poise.

"Really?" I say. "Um... do you want to go to Pera? It's Istanbul food."

"Is that like Greek food?" he asks. Affirmative. "I'd rather not."

"Oh." I think for a moment. "What about Noodles?"

"I love Noodles and Co." he responds.

"Cool. So... Noodles." I am so suave. They should use my lines in movies. Sarcasm.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I ask. "Only, it's not really a secret anymore, because you know about--yeah."

"Okay," he answers.

"I've kind of wanted to ask you out for, like, two months now," I mumble into my lap.

"Really?" he says. "You mean like since school started?"

"Well, it's been about ten weeks, so... yeah." My skirt has some frayed ends, I note.

Bryan laughs, and I look up to see him smiling openly at me. He scoots closer to me a few inches. Oh dear, my brain goes, he's coming in for a kiss. I think I'm too embarrassed for this right now. But... kissing Bryan. 

I scoot a bit closer to him. And we kiss.

I don't want to get all porny about it. Well, I kind of do, because it's my first kiss with this boy I've liked for a while, and I've written fanfiction before so I KNOW WHAT'S UP. But... God forbid anyone I know ever finds this.

We kiss for what feels like seconds and hours. I pull away. "Wait... I don't want this going too fast, is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure!" he says. "But I'm not sure what you mean by 'too fast.'"

I realize that my brain was a few steps beyond my body's actions, and we'd really done nothing "fast" at all. I'm already shackled in humiliation, what's a few more comments gonna do?

"I just... I really like you, and I don't want this to be just another 'Jenica kisses boys when drunk' thing. I want more out of this than that."

Looking back, I am really proud of that. Not only did I confront my desires and communicate them effectively, but I also made it clear that I don't enjoy acting under an influence. Needless to say, I felt like a ginormous douche at the time.

"Okay," Bryan says. "That's totally fine with me."

What a guy, eh? I picked a winner.

"Okay... so... Noodles, then," I say. At this point, I'm trying to be a little funny, because I need a shred of comfort zone before I combust. "Let's... um, let's go back upstairs."

I collect my things and we walk up the stairs to the first floor. The door is closed, so I go to open it. It opens a few inches before hitting a body. Chris' body. He sees us and, grinning proudly, like he's doing something heroic, shuts the door. I try the door again-- he's leaning against it.

"Well," I sigh, facing Bryan. "This is awkward." Understatement of my life, but I'm past the point of noticing.

"Yeah," Bryan grins. "Um... try again?"

I do just that. Nope. So I pound on the door, loudly saying, "Chris, let us out! C'mon, Chris. We KISSED, OKAY? LET US OUT."

Suddenly the door swings open and Chris, looking for all the world like a presidential fairy godmother, beams down at us. We get onto the first floor.

"Listen," I say, "I need to find my camera." I haven't mentioned it so far, because it was irrelevant until this point, I'd put my camera down somewhere and lost it. Also, it gave me cover to find a spot to freak out with hormonal glee.

I'm not going to get into the events from this point on, because they are also irrelevant. Long story short, I found some of my friends, freaked out and told them everything, to much celebration (EVERYONE knew about my crush on Bryan. I'm open-book-y like that), and found my camera. Eventually I see Bryan and he says, "I think I'm going to head home now."

"Okay," I say. "See you... Tuesday, then." Even my good-byes are awkward. Please, someone, save me from my cesspool of ineptitude.

He leaves. I text to get a ride home, then continue to freak out. Honestly, I'm still freaked out a bit.

Fast forward to now. Yes, right now. I'm breaking the fourth wall of blogging, and you guys are IN THE MOMENT WITH ME.

I have a lot of concerns. I'm now totally outside my comfort zone with this guy. Should I text him first? Should I wait for him to text me? Should I just wait until Tuesday, when I see him in class? What if I've messed everything up? What should we talk about at Noodles & Co.? Is it totally horrible to prepare conversation starter note cards? Finally, what if I'm so wrapped up in my awkwardness and overanalysis that I botch the whole thing up? I am so good at shutting myself off from people that, when sober, I may totally shut down on Bryan. And he doesn't deserve it, especially after the amazing way he handled the ball of dismay and shyness that was me last night.

Oh, and what in the hell am I going to wear?