ph: Oliver Baldwin
He's never really been one to show much emotion; always the closed off, seemingly typically a 'guy'. And this is so cliché, but there's a reason guys like him keep making our hearts swoon. It's nearing the end of my first year at university, and he's been such a big part of what I will remember from this place; this dorm life. The thing is, he's always been a constant; always there with his smirk and over pronounced drawls, the way he kind of ducks down when he walks. He subtly caught my eye with his boyish good looks and a mysterious (or is he just that closed off?) And then it kind of took a course of its own, and before I realized what the hell was going on, my heart already ran with it and I just couldn't keep up or make sense of things. We don't sound compatible on paper; I'm kind of sparkly and cheerful with a loud personality and I'm kind of built boyishly skinny. He is shorter (almost shorter than me, probably is with my heels), much more reserved and is emotionally stunted. I'm a writer; I express emotions (although I hate showing them), and he doesn't seem to feel much at all, apart from a few jokes here and there. Whenever there's other guys (because there's always other guys for me), and I almost completely forget about what's there, he goes and makes conversation, shoots me a boyish grin and I find myself falling again like I never really stopped.
The thing with me is, I am loud, I am funny, I'm good with meeting new people and all that. But I do have layers; I feel that guys just let you down, and that's why 'no strings attached' or whatever I do on a night out, suits me, because I approach these things like a guy does, I go into these 'love things' with half of my heart at most, the rest needs to be earned. And because his room is right next door, he knows, of course he does. I don't sleep around, I have my fun, but he thinks I do, and I hate that.
But sometimes I relish in the fact; because then I can see him and wonder if he thinks I am worth competing for.
I can't really explain the attraction I have towards him; it comes and goes (literally in waves); I've always been a bit reckless and brave; and the first time I confessed my feelings to him, he was already with someone back home.
That was the closure I thought I needed, that I thought I got.
And then somewhere between the second term (workload, parties, too much tequila and non memorable boys), and now, my heart decided to jump in first again, without letting me know.
His bags were packed, and he's ready to move out; back home for the summer, and I know, him being the unattached, unemotional type that he is (although our birthdays are one day apart-shouldn't that mean our personality is the same?) and I feel so so nostalgic, sad in a way that I feel is weak; I shouldn't miss him, I don't have a claim to.
But sometimes we just do, we feel things without other people understanding why.
I swear, part of his appeal is that he never seems to feel; and I just want to open him up.
The last party (of course I was there, we're regulars at this crappy little club); I couldn't fully enjoy the whole thing; because everywhere I looked he was just there, wandering around, dancing, laughing with the guys. And suddenly I had that 'movie moment' where the realization music comes on, and I had to do something, than wallow in the what ifs. So I went up to him, hugged him and told him to have a nice summer.
An hour and countless shots later, that suddenly wasn't the closure I didn't know I needed, so I picked him out, placed my hand on his cheek and (probably sloppily now that the night becomes clearer) kissed him somewhere between the corner of his mouth and his jawline, and told him it's because he's leaving. He hugged me and whispered a thank you in my hair, and sent me another boyish shy smile.
A perfect, sweet ending in a busy club; how ironic. I'm pretty sure a hip hop song was playing.
But being a sappy romantic was never my style.
I don't know what I was expecting, and I went home content. Nostalgic, happy and a tiny bit heartbroken; so bittersweet.
It wasn't a good idea to go to the movies and watch a soppy romantic film with my girlfriends tonight; he finally left this afternoon, and I plastered a cheeky smile and teased him about his small suitcases. It doesn't feel weird; but it wasn't what I wanted; and this is why I hate boys sometimes. Especially boys like him that I cannot understand.
I think I love him, but I probably don't, but I don't even know him; and he's only seen a few sides of me.
His friends all know, but I don't care.
I cried when the movie finished; but I think everyone knew, somewhere along the line, it wasn't just about the movie; and when I got back to my dorm, I stood watching his door for a while, I couldn't help but think about the first day we moved in; now his door is locked and the room is ready for a new boy next year.
I know I probably won't see much of him anymore; because he's not exactly the type to meet up for a quick coffee. I wonder if he'll ever open up, and I know that although we weren't really anything, this will make me more reluctant to open my heart to the next one. Whenever I think about the amazing times I had in this dorm, he'll lurk up; with his casual demeanor and boyish smile, and I'll carry him with me.
There'll be times when I'll be listening to my ipod (we share many favourite bands), or seeing a shirt that he likes to wear; and I'll just wince a little; it's nostalgic, it's bittersweet; and I'll welcome it.
I'll wallow for a bit, but then I'll be fine; I don't really like showing emotion, and I get happy easily (I guess we were kind of similar in a different way).
The thing is, I know that at least I tried. I used to be known as the slightly bitchy girl who doesn't seem to care about much; one who doesn't do commitment. Now I know I can feel, I can give (although he didn't give me a chance to), and I'll be fine, I want him to be happy, I'll wonder what life is like for him.
What can I say really, sometimes a girl just gets swept off her feet, even though the guy isn't really prince charming, and there wasn't even a proper start or ending; it was my story to tell, and it means something to me.
