DTLOR: Define the Lack of Relationship.

One thing about me and men: I create a lot of unnecessary drama in my head.

But hey, at least I know that. So I can laugh at myself as I have mild freak outs randomly.

The Roommate situation kinda fell flat after our "confession" talk. (Aka - the talk during which he confessed his feelings for me and I acted confused and gave him no clues as to my real feelings) I left town, he left town, I left town again, and he moved out of the ward. This didn't leave much time for even seeing each other, let alone talking about serious relationshipy things. But, lucky for me, my mind wouldn't let go of the issue at hand. After week 3, it kinda started to eat me up. I needed to talk to him and tell him how I feel.

Let me explain these feelings of turmoil a little better: GUILT. I was feeling pretty dang guilty that he had poured his heart out and I just kinda gave him a shoulder shrug. The least I could do was tell him my thoughts.

So, I set up a talk time. First, I hate doing things like that. I would much prefer situations in which you could talk about serious things without being interrupted to come by spontaneously and unplanned. Planning them makes them seem so much more... well, serious. Not to mention the anxiety that anticipation can cause. Alas.

I met The Roommate and we immediately began talking like we always do. Catching up on life, telling jokes, laughing, blah blah blah. After about 25 minutes, I started to wonder how I was ever going to bring it up. We could clearly waste all our time fluff talking and not ever mention why we were actually there. Finally, I had to jump to the punch.

"Alright. No more of this. Time to talk about more serious things." Sadly, that was almost a direct quote. 

Dating Rule #82: When meeting a man for a "serious" relationship talk, don't postpone the inevitable for too long. You both now why you're REALLY there.. and it's not to talk about your new class schedule. 

It was hard to get out and explain, as it usually is, but I basically told him that part of me liked him, but I just didn't know how it would be to date him. He seemed to only hear the second part... and told me he kinda "figured" as much by my actions. The whole thing lasted under 10 minutes and ended with a resolution to go back to normal. Aka: brother and sister status? 

Now, for most people this would be nearly impossible. However, considering the personalities of both The Roommate and myself, I am quite convinced that this is EXACTLY what will happen. Back to normal.

Which is exactly what I want. Finally!

The One Timer: Over and Out.

I don't kiss just anyone. Usually.

My name is The Friendly Kisser. Yes, I do realize that the connotations of this name are not particularly positive, but let's get real here, most of our names on this blog do not have positive connotations.

Since my dating life is rather boring at the moment, I will inform the general populous of the basis of my name. Now keep in mind that there is a lot that goes along with most of these stories and I'm only telling the bare minimum. But these are some of my favorite stories because they are so entirely ridiculous. Also, no judgement... please and thank you.

The Hipster: I met the hipster the first week of last fall semester and I immediately adored him and found him fascinating. He was so unique and different from anyone I'd ever met and I was so attracted to that. Not physically attracted at first, just curiously attracted because I love watching interesting people. We spent lots of time together, not just the two of us, we were usually with our large group of friends. We shared our mutual love for reptiles and interest in discussing the basis of creativity and human thought. He is a very physical individual; I've never met a boy that just loves to be touched so much by everyone around him. Now I'm a very physical person as well (ever taken the 5 Love Language test? Physical Touch is one of my highest - this explains a lot, I know). Anyway, so from the very beginning we had a very physical friendship; I was always scratching his back or playing with his hair or we would even cuddle occasionally, though it meant nothing. Then one day we were watching a movie in his apartment and for some reason everyone else left halfway through. So then we ended up kissing. I was just like, "What in the world?! Where is this coming from? Do I even like him?" Then I just scratched those thoughts and kept kissing him. It was great. But then I got home and I was ashamed; I ended up not even telling my roommates about these happening for a couple months. I came to the conclusion that I did not in fact have feelings for The Hipster, and we continued to be very close friends. The fact that we had made-out through a solid portion of a movie never made things awkward and we never even discussed it.

The Gangster: I went to visit my best friend, who lives two hours a way, for a huge Mardi Gras party. She introduced me to one of her friends, The Gangster. He is Cambodian and had recently moved from just outside of Compton. Let's be serious now, he is the only boy I have ever kissed that had tattoos, and they were awesome. Yeah, he was pretty hardcore or something. He also turned out to be one of the sweetest, though not so bright, boys I've ever met. So we partied hard (nothing too crazy, just some excellent dance partying). I spent the whole night dancing with The Gangster and it was great. I had to leave to get on a plane by 6 the next morning, so I went running out to my car around 3. He came with me to the car and then just leaned in and laid one on me. I was completely surprised, but fine with it; he was not a bad kisser. Then I got in the car and watched him walk back inside And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the first and last time I spoke to or saw The Gangster.

Mr. Football: This man is a VERY large, black, college football player. He is from Gahna. He is outrageous. And he thinks he is so incredibly awesome. Ever since I first acquainted him, I have adored him. In my usual fashion, there is always a constant barrage of flirting going back and forth between the two of us. We attended a boating trip with a large group of friends and neighbors a few months ago, and one of the nights we were all standing around chatting. As a perfectly acceptable part of our conversation, Mr. Football kissed a friend of ours on the forehead and this friend exclaimed, "That's the first kiss I've ever had from a black man." Another friend then turned to me and stated: "I bet you want one." I just laughed and responded in my typical sarcastic way that of course I would. So Mr. Football promptly walked right up to me and kissed me full on the mouth right there in front everybody. I was entirely not expecting that, but went right along with it and it was spectacular. It was a great kiss. And everyone watched. And then everyone talked. I just laughed and we have continued our flirting friendship to this day, but when I'm around him, I always stay aware of the fact that he might kiss me again, which I would probably accept.

Now you have heard my three most ridiculous stories. Yes, I have a flirting problem. But I will have everyone know that I don't kiss just anyone. I have been quoted saying, "It's easy to kiss someone when you don't really like them." I stand by this statement. When I really like a boy, I am awkward and can not easily kiss them, or even talk to them like a normal person for that matter. It's a curse.

Now you understand me,
The Friendly Kisser

A Real Life Mr. Collins

Well, nothing exciting has happened in the past few weeks as far as dating goes, so I will tell you a little story from last year. It's not romantic. It's not cute. It's not frustrating. It's not even sad. It's just awkward.

Sometime at the beginning of December I went on a group blind date. I had never met anyone in my group prior to this evening and they were all pretty strange. All the boys, except one, were freshman--really obnoxious, immature, incredibly awkward freshman.When I look back on pictures I honestly don't remember who my date was out of these awkward boys or his name. Woops. All I remember about him is that he was a philosophy major, and let's be honest, that's all you really need to know to understand how my night went. Anyway, compared to these awkward, strange freshman, there was one boy in the group who seemed relatively normal. We will call him Mr. Collins. I ended up spending most of the night talking to him and left my date to happily flaunt his opinions about philosophy, politics, and religion to some other girl. When the night was over, Mr. Collins walked me across campus to my car and got my number. I drove away thinking he was pretty cute and that I wouldn't mind if he asked me out. A couple weeks later, he did! We went to lunch, and let's just say it was not exactly what I expected. He was nice, but it felt awkward...really awkward. The conversation was forced and choppy. With an awkward hug and a goodbye, we parted ways for Christmas break and I figured I would never hear from him again. To my surprise he texted me almost every day of the break! This was fine...but kind of overwhelming. Some days I didn't even text him back, but apparently that did not dampen his spirits. When we got back from break he asked me out again. At this point I was conflicted about the whole situation. I didn't really enjoy our date, but apparently he did! And he was really nice when we talked over the break, kind of awkward, but nice. I decided to chalk up his awkwardness to the fact that we'd only spent an hour together and some people are just a little awkward at first. So we went on a couple more dates that week. He made me lunch one afternoon at his apartment. It was actually more of a full course dinner- drinks, a main dish, 3 sides, and dessert. It was all terrible cooking, poor kid, but it was sweet of him to put all that effort in. But yet again, the date was awkward. However, everyone told me to give him a chance and look over the fact that he was kinda nerdy and wore huge New Balance white grandpa tennis shoes. Our next date we doubled with his best friend and his best friend's fiance. Yeah. I don't need to go into anymore details, you get the picture-awkward. Another night we went bowling and to get ice cream. This time I decided to have fun, so I did. Looking back on that night, I realized that I only had fun because I wanted to, Mr. Collins honestly had nothing to do with it. However, I couldn't see this at the time, so I finally thought things might be getting less awkward! Wrong. The next date was hands down one of the most awkward nights of my life. I was utterly confused about my feelings for Mr. Collins and of course needed some back up from my friends- The Heartbreaker and The One Timer. So I invited him to go get some frozen yogurt and to a game night with my friends. The night went pretty well for the most part. I have some pretty awesome friends, so we had a lot of fun! We ended up watching a movie, holding hands, and cuddling. Then came the 20 minute drive home. Just me and Mr. Collins. I can't remember exactly what happened, but I do remember it was the most awkward conversation we'd had yet...mostly because he didn't really talk much. I had to ask all the questions and his answers made me like Mr. Collins less and less. He made some women jokes (huge pet peeve of mine) and then told me about a hilarious time when he made fun of a disabled kid. Please note that at this time, I was a Special Ed major. This kid was losing points fast. By the time I dropped him off I had decided that I didn't ever care to see him again. One more awkward side hug goodbye and Mr. Collins would be out of my life, I thought. Well, apparently that's not what he was thinking. When I went in for the side hug, he went in for a kiss! Luckily, I have extremely fast reflexes so I dodged his face and continued on with the original plan of the awkward side hug. Whew! That was close. I told him goodbye, but Mr. Collins just sat there staring at me from the passenger seat. I must have done a really good job pretending I didn't notice that he tried to kiss me, cause Mr. Collins went in for a kiss AGAIN. There was no dodging this one. I decided I had three options. 1) Kiss him. 2) Cower in the corner of my car in the fetal position or 3) Say something to stop him. I refused to have my first kiss be a rape kiss from this awkward kid, so #1 was not an option. Although #2 was tempting, I decided it probably wouldn't go over well, so that left #3. I can't remember what I said, but whatever it was, it successfully got Mr. Collins out of my car and away from my face. By the time I got home, I had received a text from Mr. Collins. This is roughly what it said. "Hey, don't make plans for this weekend, because I'm gonna take you out." Umm excuse me??? I just rejected kissing him TWICE. What makes this guy so sure I would agree that he would A) not even ask and B) do this over text. Some people just can't take a hint. So the next day I decided I had to talk to him. I can't remember exactly what I said, but I tried to tell him as nicely as I could that I thought it would be better if we were just friends. He disagreed and tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew I could never date him. Moral of the story- Dating Rule #13) Never force yourself to try to have feelings for someone, no matter how flattering it is to have someone like you. and Dating Rule #44) If it starts out awkward, it's going to stay awkward.

-The Cautious Charmer

Mildly Pointless.

I went on another date. Let the celebration ensue.
It was joyous. Nothing over the top and nothing to get excited about, but we had fun. I went with a dear friend of mine whom I have known for years, who just recently returned from a 2 year jaunt in the Dominican Republic. It was so lovely to catch up with him and eat hamburgers and go to a rodeo. Truly, I love surprise rodeo dates. Also, firework shows are a wonderful thing. But I'm going to be honest here, I just felt kind of eh the whole time. It should have been a great, hilarious evening because I love my friend that I was with, but I kept thinking how much I wished I was with Library Boy instead. I was trying to be a great date and make it fun, but I felt like I was forcing it.
Rule #37: When you're on a date, be on that date. Try your very hardest not to think of other men.
Why, oh why, does Library Boy have to be so dang adorable and charming? Why must he take over my mind at inconvenient times when I'm trying to make myself stop thinking of him? That wretched boy is so wonderful, but it does not appear as though he returns my affection for him. Not that I would know for sure; I'm much more apt to sit and wonder what he's thinking than to actually go and ask him.

On a lighter note, I attended the wedding of Mr. Wickham this weekend. One of these days you will be privileged enough to hear that story. His wedding was fancy and interesting, and I was reassured that I am fully over my feelings for him. It was a very comforting weekend, considering how long it took for me to convince my heart to get over him.

This is a mildly pointless entry, but it all needed to be said. I apologize for my ramblings about Library Boy. I will attempt to keep them to a minimal in future posts. But I do not make any promises about that.

The Friendly Kisser.

It's Raining. It's Pouring.

Why is it that you can go months without any sign of dating excitement WHATSOEVER, and then suddenly be flooded with problems from multiple angles??

Last weekend was one of the floods. 

I had a date with Mr. Valentine on Friday night. I was moderately excited.. or, in other words, not overly giddy but still planning on having a grand time. The date itself was a fabulous night of four wheeling and roasting hot dogs. However, I'll spare you those boring details. What you DO need to know is this: conversation and chemistry was better than ever! We talked easily the entire night, entering a new level of "deep talking" that we had not previously reached. I really feel like I got to know him better... and actually liked what I got to know. On top of that, his communication continued to be superb. He loves to break all sorts of unwritten/unhealthy dating rules! Examples: he brought up several times during the night the fact that he was interested in me, asked me flat out if he was friend zoned or not, told me how fun it was to have my arms around him, and then told me how uplifting and inspiring I was to be around. While this all could be cheesy or absolutely revolting from a different guy, it was absolutely adorable coming from him! By the end of the date my scale had definitely gone up! 

Purposeless side note for entertainment only: During the date I had to use the bathroom SOO bad. Being away from any sort of restroom, I opted to go "wilderness style". He seemed to think this was rather amusing. But hey,desperate times call for desperate measures. 

I guess it's safe to say I would certainly be willing to go out with Mr. Valentine again. While I still am not completely smitten or convinced we would be compatible in a relationship, I have enough fun with him to see what could happen. 

Now let me get to the flood part. 

After being dropped off by Mr. Valentine, I returned home to the Roommate hanging out at my apartment. Long story short, less than 12 hours after returning from my date with Mr. Valentine, the Roommate vocally confessed his feelings for me. Where his previous two attempts of declaration had been vague and weak, this one was quite blunt. 

His exact words?

"I really like you but I know if I do anything about it I'm going to freak you out." 

The conversation lasted for quite some time, but I somehow left him with only the thought that "I was extremely confused about my feelings for him" and that "yes I was a little freaked out". The poor chap. If I was him, I'd be dying of frustration right now. And that was over a week ago. I went out of town for a week and left him with nothing but more confusion!

Dating Rule #12: It is near impossible to explain your feelings to someone when you, yourself, don't know how you feel. 

So now I sit, having returned from my trip, with quite the dilemma inside me. I need to talk to The Roommate, for he clearly deserves an explanation. And then there is Mr. Valentine. They are both being very vocal about their feelings for me.. But who do I prefer? Could I even see myself dating either of them??

I know part of me is simply flattered, but that is a horrid excuse. I need to dig down and discover my true feelings ASAP. Or I'm afraid all three of us are ruined forever*. 

*Please excuse my mild exaggeration. I'm only trying to add to the drama. 

The One Timer: Over and Out

A Date with a Ginger.

In my attempt to forget my feelings for Library Boy, I have accepted the offers from multiple (hopefully) trusted individuals to set me up on some dates. I must recount the most recent of these experiences to you, my dear readers.
Two weeks ago, my uncle asked my permission to give my number to a boy who he referred to as "a more attractive Ron Weasley." Now you see, I have a very soft spot in my heart for one Ronald Weasley (and most other gingers), and I knew that my uncle was playing with my emotions to try to convince me to accept this date. He won; I acquiesced.
This "more attractive Ron Weasley" called me that very week and we arranged the date. He was charmingly goofy while we talked on the phone and it wasn't a short make-the-plans-and-hang-up call, we chatted for 5-10 minutes and he was pleasant. Perhaps this could be a very fun date.
A few days prior to the day, we had a texting conversation to finalize our plans. After telling me what we were doing and my affermative response, he sent me the following text:
"ok, good! Well get the wrinkles out of that prom dress cause we are gonna rock p-town"
followed by "oh and I guess I need your address... for the limo"
Really? I'll give him points for originality, but what if I was one who took everything literally and then he showed up at my door to me wearing a big, pouffy prom dress? I was incredibly tempted to do so, just to put him in an awkward situation. Needless to say, I was not sure what to expect from this interesting human being.

The day came. He picked me up. He had flaming red hair.
It was a good blind date. There were no moments of super awkward silence, though he did occasionally ask some questions in an awkward, hesitant way. But it was fine. We went to dinner and then played some mini-golf and arcaded it up. He found out about my fantasy nerdiness within the first 2 minutes of the date and he completely accepted it. That was a good sign.
This boy was the most sarcastic person I've met in my entire life. And let me tell you, I've met some pretty sarcastic people. At least 3/4 of his statements during the entire night had to be followed up with "just kidding." I've never heard the phrase used more in one night. Now, I'm a pretty sarcastic person and I think sarcasm is hilarious, but there were times when it was a bit much. During a few moments of the date, I just wanted to talk to him, not have to be on my toes about what witty remark he was going to make next. Don't be confused, I felt pretty comfortable around him, I just wasn't ever sure exactly what he was actually thinking because he was always just joking.
All in all, it was a good date, something you can't always say for blind dates. I was able to talk to him pretty easily, we had fun, I got to play enough skee-ball to tide me over. But I don't think anything will come of it. I'm just thrilled he didn't end up being a weirdo.
Also, not nearly as attractive as Ron Weasley.

Peace. The Friendly Kisser.

Once Upon A Time

How do you sum up in words a story of the heart?

For no matter how beautiful I write this, no matter how many flowery adjectives and vivid verbs and perfect parallel sentences I create, it'll fall a little short. But I must try, because my outlook of the foreign and very little understood "male" species is all based around this story. Everything else I say is merely an appendage.

I'd like to tell you my story :) How is it that these tales begin? Oh yes.....

Once upon a time, I broke a boy's heart, and he was my Prince Charming. I'd known this boy since I was 14 years old. He had slowly and surely become the dearest friend I had, far surpassing my boyfriend of a year. He was my go-to guy for everything, the one I would call when a date went wrong or when I needed to go eat Red Robin fries for a night. I was one, huge constant giggle around my Prince Charming. When senior year of high school rolled around, he started chasing me, (what he later called his marathon chase,) and for a while I let him fall. I led him on, played cute and dumb, and then broke his heart in half when it was no longer in my best interest. It was selfish and terrible and awful, and this is where our story began. 

This is where the story began for me, because this is where I learned what trust was.This boy stayed my best friend through thick and thin. He's the only boy I've ever met who meant the phrase: "I'm here for you, and I'm going to be, no matter what." 

One night, at 3 in the morning, I texted him with a great idea: a run in the snow. The snowflakes were massive and the world was white, and i wanted to see it. Naturally, he wanted to do it, because that meant spending more time with me. (He is too good to me, that's one thing I hope you have figured out by now.) We bundled up and took off from our houses at college that were 50 yards away from each other. I'm fairly certain that every car that night stopped, that every person froze, and that the whole earth ceased any movement, except for the falling snow. It was perfect stillness. We ran and talked and caught snowflakes in our mouths, the whole time hearing the silent "crunch" of the snow beneath our shoes. We eventually reached a temple and discovered an open gate. The temple was lighted and we walked silently. I looked up and saw the snowflakes against the backdrop of white-washed mountains. For one second, I didn't analyze anything, I just took his hand and we kept walking. Neither of us said a word about it. 

Right then, I learned what love was. It didn't hit me like a ton of bricks and it wasn't even a realization I discovered at the moment. But in that moment, I wasn't holding someone's hand I was trying to impress. The games for us were over, which had never been the case with me. I was soaking wet and grinning like an idiot. My make-up was long gone and I had the circles of a tough exam under my eyes from the day before. My eyelashes and crazy hair were catching and holding the snowflakes, and he was brushing them away and laughing. He couldn't stop looking at me. In that moment, I was holding my best, best friend's hand, and it was as innocent as two five-year-old's on their way to Kindergarten for the first time. 

It was months before we started dating, but in that moment, I sure loved that boy.

The day we started dating was December 4, 2011. I randomly gave in, took a chance at something meaningful, and leaned over to kiss him. That night, all his friends tackled him with excitement when he got back to his dorm. I wasn't even sure myself what had happened, but I knew that he would never hurt me, that he made me laugh, that he loved me more than I knew someone could love another person, and that he made me want to be better.

He'd always let me get in football position and tackle him on campus, no matter who we were around, just because I'm a complete spaz and I like to tackle people.

I have the best double chin you've ever seen. I'd sometimes look at him and slowly sink my head back into my neck, just to watch him die laughing. 

His friends called him "whipped cream" because "he was so whipped." He'd just smile and kiss my forehead and absolutely agree.

He'd always roll his eyes when I commented on how pretty another girl was. "Pa---leassseee. I've got all I ever want, right here." Then he'd grab me and wrap me up.

Whenever I got a call from anyone, he thought it was his duty to kiss me while I was trying to have a conversation. He'd smile when I tried to pull away and then kiss me more and more and laugh as I tried so hard to focus on what was being said to me. I'd always hang up and drop the phone. 

He has the funniest falsetto voice.

We both have a desire to wear ugly thrift store clothes for the rest of our lives. He rocks white-trash 80's short shorts.

I wanted to lose weight and he wanted to gain weight. Our solution? I gave him piggybacks everywhere we walked. He burned less calories, I burned more, and we got lots of weird looks while we were at it.

We'd go shopping and he'd always bite his lower lip, look at me, look at the ground, struggle breathing a little, look at me again, let out a deep breath, and then just say, "Mmmhmm. Yup, get that." 

He'd always roll me up in a blanket and I'd squirm around in it. I was his little burrito and he thought he was so funny. 

We watched YouTube clips of the minions off of Despicable Me for at least 2 hours.

He loved to hold my hand, and we'd get a kick out of holding hands as awkwardly as possible and watching people's reactions. 

The last thing he said to me, through tears, before he left me, was: "Listen. I love you. I want you to be happy, and if that means being happy with someone else, then gosh...that's what I want for you." 

He's my better half, my partner-in-crime, my best friend. I'm convinced that we love each other more than most people experience in their whole life. 

Dating Rule #1: If you happen to meet someone who you love with every piece of your heart, don't you dare ever forget that. 

And that, my friends, is my fairy tale story.