Afterparty reflections… and other musings at 2:30 a.m.
Do you ever have those great, fun, crazy, nothing-too-extraordinary-but-still-a-good-time nights? Nothing can bring you down; even a drunk girl spilling beer all over your suede shoes (which I was REALLY sad about, but chose not to make it affect my night), or one of your friends acting like the biggest fool by slipping and falling on her
ass butt. It was just one of those nights: the type when you looked your best, you didn’t care about the staring eyes when you “cut a rug,” you owned at beer pong, you met fun, new people. It’s the type of night that can only come after working hard the whole day — this was my night tonight.
Brace yourselves, readers, I’m about to get a bit more personal than usual with y’all…
But the sad thing is, no matter how amazing my night was, I can’t get over one crazy fact: my recently-single gorgeous friend (on whom I’ve had an on-again-off-again crush since forever — the person from this post has nothing on this crush) just looked so good and I did nothing about it. Have you ever been so head-over-heels about that one person you know would challenge you to be the best version of yourself at all times? That has been the story of my life.
It’s not like I could do anything about it… This person is the type of person that you’d bring home to your parents; the type they’d immediately love and make a part of the family. The epitome of ambition. This person is soft-spoken, and never reveals how he or she really feels, except to me and a couple of other extremely close friends. The type of person that makes you feel special.
NARRATOR: As he listened, Tom began to realize that these stories weren’t routinely told. These were stories one had to earn. He could feel the wall coming down. He wondered if anyone else had made it this far. Which is why the next six words changed everything.
SUMMER: I’ve never told anybody that before.
TOM: I guess I’m not just anybody.
– dialogue from “(500) Days of Summer”
It’s almost as if I’ve found my Summer Finn. And the sad thing is that I’ve never been sure that this person even likes guys like me. I mean, I’ve always had a feeling that this person does, but they’ve never fessed up to it. And it’s definitely not one of those things you can really just outright ask. I mean, at my age, one does not simply
walk into Mordor confess his or her feelings for another — that’s soooo middle school lol. There are so many social norms that have to be met. Especially here in the South.
What is expected of those who are about to enter the real world is clever action and manipulation to get the other to fall in love with you. Quite the challenge, right? And in the past, I have definitely been like my “friend” Barney Stinson and lived his catch-phrase “Challenge Accepted.” But at some point, you realize some challenges just can’t be accomplished until you reach the most opportune time. And the middle of the semester after they become newly-single is NOT the most appropriate time for me to start “macking” on anyone.
The sad thing is that I’ve never felt the type of connection I feel with this person with anyone else. Ever. We have so much in common, yet we also are tragically different; it’s those differences that make me so much more attracted to this person.
My fingertips and my lips, they burn. From the cigarettes. Forrest Gump, you run my mind…
– Frank Ocean, “Forrest Gump”
The sad thing is that I’ve tried replacing her with so many others. And they never quite measure up. While distance may have helped let me get over her (traveling to Europe, interning in Los Angeles and New York), this newfound freedom never lasted longer than a month. They’re always find ways to tantalize me and eventually pull me back into their deadly web. Just when I feel like I’ve finally gotten over this person, we’ll have a heart-to-heart over the phone, or they will comment on a Facebook post, or send me a text about something that reminded him or her of me. And if all of this person’s fighting combo don’t bring me to my KO of self-dignity, they whip out the fatalities when I actually see them in person. They’ll bat their eyes and I’ll realize just how green and hazel and beautiful they are. Or the way their hair looks in the wind. Or the swagger this person has when they walk into a room. Or the confidence he or she exudes in every situation this person in. Or even the way they dress (btw, this person can dress well. Like REALLY well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them look terrible. They’re just THAT beautiful).
This person knows how to take care of me. There’s just so much compassion and actual goodness in this person’s soul. This person is the type of person that you want
on by your side to help you tackle every obstacle. While I HAVE learned how to maneuver through life’s obstacles without this person as my backseat driver, I’ve always felt that life would be so much sweeter with them next to me.
It’s at times like this that I wish this person had just graduated with the rest of my friends last May; it would have made life a whole lot easier. Instead of worrying about making sure my own intentions never surface (I’d never be able to tell this person about how I feel — while they may be accepting of my own diversity, I do not believe that this person is able to fully accept that they may like me the same way I like them), I could devote my full attention to the things to which I should really be paying attention: my thesis, my 21 hours this semester, my internship, my campaign, my community outreach, my family;
shit man, even my other friends!
And that’s just it. This person is not going to be there, and if they are, it’ll be too late. And I just have to accept it before it’s too late. At least writing this post has helped me realize that no one person is worth the stress I’ve gone through for over two years.
Also, I’ve changed the pronouns to be ambiguous so that any reader can relate. Thanks for the tip, Caroline 🙂