Tuesday, March 27, 2018


It all starts with a boy, a brunette boy I met while carelessly dancing in the basement of a frat house, you know the way all the best stories begin. He was the adventure I craved and quickly became addicted to. In the moment, he was all I wanted but honestly, he was nothing I needed. I found myself getting attached while he seemed to grow distant. It was a cycle of unanswered texts and a slew of mixed emotions leading up to this past Sunday night. 

For sake of clarity, I guess I should back it up a bit. It started the fall of my sophomore year, we were a random makeout until eventually, it wasn't so random anymore. When I'd show up to their house pretty much every weekend, he'd be the first one I'd look for every time. And you know by some strange logic, it seems the more times you stick your tongue down somebodies throat the more you seem to develop feelings for them. You may not realize it until you see him with another girl and suddenly your jealousy seems to truly come out. Then the next thing you know, you may accidentally start crying about the situation to one of his fraternity brothers and your big in the student center, and at that point, you're in too deep and you need to take action. 

So this brings us to Sunday night, the night when I'd finally take that step. I'd honestly been thinking about it for a while, mostly because I'd started to realize just how much I liked him. He was consuming my thoughts and I found myself starting to get attached. So I decided I needed a way to see if he wanted anything more or if I should close the book. I figured the easiest way to do this would be to ask him to hang out. We had never interacted much outside of the frat party atmosphere, so I knew that would be a good test. My friends were pretty much split, some saying to go for it while others didn't think it was a great idea. But for me, it came down to the fact that I couldn't let myself sit around and make this pretty little story up in my head anymore. 

So I sent the text. Knowing that there were two possible outcomes: he responds and I explore what it could be or he just doesn't respond and I close that chapter of the book. And as much as the thought of not getting a text back hurt me, the thought of being in limbo for any longer hurt worse. I bet you can guess the outcome- no response. And at that point, face full of rejection it was time to close the book. And while it hurts, if I never felt the rejection I'd never be able to completely move on, there would always still be that glimmer that maybe I should have done something more. Now I can move on, saying I have tried and he just wasn't right for me. So cheers to finding the closure we need, even if it requires us to be bold and to take a risk. 

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