Day 159 Happy Anniversary

I'm about an "8" on the drunk-scale of 1-to-fuckedup when I first meet Michael...and his girlfriend. She actually brings a nice big bottle of liquor so I fall partially in love with her in my severely inebriated state. Give me a break: it was New Year's Eve. 

I immediately think he's fucking gorgeous, and this is solidified the next day when everyone's sober and I'm on the couch playing Taboo with kids who are sooo cheating by looking over my shoulder at the answers. His hair's a little too long and he kind of comes off as a miscreant, but I find this charming and it definitely helps that he's easy on the eyes. He's one of Cue's old classmates, as are a lot of the guys who come into Cue's parents' home for our annual New Year's Day brunch.

I don't talk to him a lot in the upcoming months...until a dorm party down the road and I'm in town. The girls in the car want to go to a house party, but I know Michael'll be at the dorm party so I insist to go there instead. Amusingly enough, I'm pretty ripped (again) and I get into a conversation with his friend, Rick. Or rather, I used the excuse of talking to Rick to draw Michael in. In retrospect, I acknowledge that I'm pulling all this because I know he's single. 

I wake up the next morning with his number on my phone. Apparently, I "lost" my phone and asked him to call it. [It was between my boobs] I consider this a fantastic victory...and promptly throw up in the bathroom. 


I forget about having his number on my phone until Elliot's birthday party. A friend, Nancy insists that she needs a different pair of shoes from her car, and I jokingly drag Michael along to "protect" us poor little girls in the walk down the block where her car is parked. I enjoy myself at the party and realize after a few hours that Michael and Nancy haven't stopped talking to each other (only) since we got back from the car. I'm surprisingly disappointed in this even though I know it wasn't like he and I had anything going on, so I delete his number from my phone on the spot, knowing that they were starting something and that my own baggage didn't have space for him anyway...

...Somewhere down the road, we talk. Nothing salacious, just stupid things like anime and manga and throwing confetti parties. I find that he's a bit of a joker who loves his family and silently kick myself for not making a move when I had the chance. Either way, I take it in stride and tell myself it's for the better and the right thing to do is cheer him and Nancy on. And I totally do...

...Until one night, I'm online and talking to him, somehow managing to admit that I'd gotten rid of his number as my way of, "throwing in the towel" so to speak. I don't say it to lure him in any capacity, but because I genuinely think it's a funny thought since we're just friends semi-involved with other people. He tells me not to thrown in the towel and there's a part of me that's happier than I'd been for a long time. But I'm realistic and not a slut, so I tell him that my ex is still a part of my life, and Michael subtly gets that that "relationship" consists of me getting fucked and ditched like a whore. (The Ex actually looks appalled when I say this and it keeps him in m room for a grand two hours longer than usual) I don't like this reality.

Sooo, I take a chance even when the quarter lands on the wrong side. I'm leaving for the Philippines, so the night before, he drives out to see me and parks on the driveway. We kiss, watch the stars and make our relationship official...belatedly realizing that we started dating on Cinco de Mayo. When I tell the story later, I always have to preemptively insist that we weren't drunk when it happened.

A few months later, he tells me he loves me and I laugh, insisting that he doesn't. He affirms that he's never felt this way before and I smile and nod, saying, "I love you too" because I know what this feeling is and, after my ex, I couldn't have anticipated feeling that way for any other person. That night, we go bowling and I find myself smiling and being so damn happy (not just because I don't suck at bowling but) that I finally have that semblance of happiness I'd had and lost before.

A week later, he breaks up with me. Later, when the tears have been cried and I can stand being in a room with him without bawling for two hours, I look him in the eyes and ask if there's someone else. I can see him lie before he even says "No." But I nod, smile, tell him that I'll see him around and drive away thinking that it's not such a shame because the sex sucked and he has man-boobs. 

This thought makes me smile.