So, that whole "let's just be friends" talk didn't go nearly as well as I had hoped. After three beers on a weeknight (and after having insisted that he not allow me to drink any more than two), perhaps I wasn't as gentle as I should have been. Here's how I had imagined the conversation going:
Me: "Hey, you know, I think maybe we would be better off as friends."
Him: "Well, maybe I'm a little disappointed, but ok. Sure."
In actuality, it went a little more like this:
Him: "What? I don't...I don't understand. You're not...attracted to me?"
Me: "No, I mean, I think you're really cute. You are."
Him: "But you don't want to...have sex with me?"
And oh, Internet, if you could have seen the look in his puppy dog eyes...Between the eyes and the fact that I'm a total pushover and apparently defenseless against men who manifest any kind of interest in my general direction, perhaps you can understand why I found myself back-pedaling and wildly overcompensating.
"No...it's just...Hey, let's kiss," I said. "Hey, let's kiss, ok? Maybe I could like you...Just forget I said anything." He walked me home, and perhaps sensing a moment of weakness, invited himself in for a glass of water. We kissed more, and...well, I suppose it wasn't that bad. But I ask you, how can I be with a guy like this?:
"Hey, your shirt, it's all holey," I said. "I saw a couple holes before, but it's covered in holes. You bought it like that?"
"This shirt is from Barney's," he said.
"So you paid a lot of money for it, then? For a shirt with holes in it?"
"David Bowie has this shirt."
"So, you bought that shirt because David Bowie has it?"
"No, I had it before David Bowie did."
I mean, really. Can the fashion maven and this Old Navy girl ever really see eye to eye? (Except in the physical sense, as we are literally eye to eye and nose to nose. He tried telling me that he was 6'1", and I had to break the sad news, with the help of The Measuring Tape of Truth, that really he was only 5'10". I didn't understand why he was so upset until I realized that his whole adult life, he really believed he was 6'1". So I had to bring him down a few notches, literally. Heh).
And of course, as this is Cambridge, and my route home from school overlaps his route to school, who should I hear call out my name from across the street when I was on my way home this afternoon.
"Are you stalking me?" I asked. But no, apparently he was simply on his way to hold office hours at Cambridge's most ivy league of institutions. And now I have plans for a study date tomorrow. As if I have time for a study date tomorrow, four days before the most important exam of my career. We're going to...read. Together. And seperately, of course. But together.
Really. Are there any more stupid decisions I could make or weird situations I could get myself into right now? Please, send me your dating/relationship/life/school/work-related questions and/or solicitations for advice now. Then make sure you do the exact opposite of what I recommend, and you should be just fine. Seriously, act now while the bad decision-making and clouded judgement last. Results not guaranteed.