Oh how I would love to make the first move. But as of now, I’m perfectly content slowly deciphering the mystery surrounding the man I like. I guess that’s what drew me towards him: I tend to be intrigued by mysteries, and he was — and still is — one. And I’m glad that we’ve been hanging out more often, and just chatting. Because I’ve learned that he’s like a puppy — talks animatedly and too hyper to process some of the things I’ve said till about 20 minutes later, and gets super excited like 20 minutes before his swim practice because he just can’t wait to jump into the water, and the list goes on.
Maybe in a few months, or next semester, I will gather up my courage and confess, but for now, I’m content being a good friend of his. 🙂
I cannot tell you how many times in high school there were boys that I liked, who I later came to find out, liked me back with equal force, but quite unequal gumption. See, I have oft leaned to the dark side, the nerd side, if you will, and these boys, though handsome, cultured, and highly intelligent, are not always quick on the romantic uptake. I have never been a shy one, but all signs pointed to, “don’t ask boys out or ever show that you are interested ever, or you are an eager whore and you will surely die,” so I pined and pined and waited for somebody to make a move, but nobody ever did, because–shy boys. In hindsight, I see that initiating a cute, albeit awkward, sweaty handhold in the woods during cross country practice, or a flirty Chemistry homework date could have easily set me on…
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