Nothing has changed since meeting him nearly nine months ago. I still can’t seem to overcome these giddy and shy feelings. Like a school girl, holding hands- or being “exclusive”with someone for the first time. I sat in the front seat of his car. It started to rain. He talked, I nodded appropriately, focused thoroughly, and laughed at all of his cute and subtle jokes. We watched videos on his phone about things that he is interested in, like, material science and nuclear explosions. I’ll admit, I was interested in the topic, but I could hardly focus through the timidness and self doubt. An ad came on his phone about valentines day. “Oh yeah- when is valentines day? Do you do that?” he said. I was so caught off guard. Was he voluntarily bringing up a topic that could potentially lead him into a trap that he would rather have avoided? I shrugged my shoulders. “I don't know.” I responded in an abrupt manner. I was hoping the subject wouldn't change. I was hoping that he would somehow know that by shrugging my shoulders, I really meant, “I have never had a meaningful valentines day. In fact, I’ve never even been in love and I have never truly been loved by someone. Forget my parents, not even a boyfriend. No I have never ‘done’ valentines day but I sure would fucking like to!!??” Yes... somehow, he would know; and he would begin to formulate his plan to surprise me on valentines day. His plan would not include roses or chocolates (that come in a heart shaped box, in which i would eat only one or two of the ‘good’ kind. Then the rest would sit and harden for weeks, until eventually, all my groceries run out and I'm desperate for chocolate) It would include a song he wrote for me, or a confession of how he actually feels, or maybe it would just include him wanting to know who I am. Then again, doesn't he already? As two pals ate cheeseburgers and watched youtube videos of nuclear explosions, I couldn't help but think “An hour earlier, you were inside me and I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of love, as I do each time Im with you.” Perhaps it was the oxytocin talking. “How I hate this friends with benefits. I mold myself to you, unwillingly!” I thought. I melt. I become fragile and week. A combination of his tall and dark features, thick hair, innocent smile, intelligence, mystery, and the musky, metal scent that was always lingering on him from his job as a welding inspector, held me hostage on day one. Three cheers to being pals.
