If you're one of my close friends, you recently received a text (or several) with the above message. And, I'm not complaining here, but that message didn't seem to garner much interest. So, for those who like to keep up on my Boston life through this blog, here's the amazing story that has had me smiling from ear to ear for the past week...and doesn't seem to be fading anytime soon.
My new roomie had a crush on our new neighbor. And, despite my immediate "he's gay" reaction, she spent a night at the local bar with him, only to discover that I was indeed wrong. The next day, he sent her a text message asking her to bring me and come over to his place for wine, and to meet one of our other neighbors. We didn't feel like going out, so the tactic was to simply ignore the message. Two minutes later, our bell rings. Due to some awkwardness, I answered the door and invited them in. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw this new neighbor, not expecting a young, attractive man to be visiting our apartment that Thursday evening. This is particularly because I had gone running that night, and was sweaty and gross. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind. As we had already decided we didn't want to go out, we invited them to stay at our place for some wine, and they accepted.
Within minutes, "J" and I were engrossed in conversation. No lulls, no silence, no awkwardness. Just amazing conversation. The best part about it? He's British. Hehe...what are the odds!?! As usual, though, I digress...
They stayed for a few hours and then walked us out with the dogs. I invited him out with us the next night to JP, and gave him my card. The next day at work, I found myself thinking about him quite frequently, hoping that he would, indeed, decide to join us. Every hour that passed I convinced myself that I had read the signs wrong, and he wasn't interested in me. And then, around 2:00 in the afternoon, I got the text I'd been waiting (and hoping) for. He said that he enjoyed meeting me, and that he wanted to grab a drink with me after work at the local bar. Um, ABSOLUTELY! I proceed to tell everyone about the cute British boy I met, and how excited I am that I might get to see him that weekend. I rush home and start rummaging through my closet for the perfect outfit. I can't go too dressy because it's the local southie bar. I can't go too casual because it's me...and it's a date! My roomie had a terrible day at work, so we decide to skip our outing to JP, and just head up to the Quencher.
"J" and I hit it off immediately. For hours, we just sat there and talked. Flirted. Leaned in close. Laughed. Smiled. Seriously - it was like we were the only 2 people in the bar. At around 1:00 (roomie had already gone home), we decided to leave. He invited me over to his place. He made me hot chocolate with marshmallows, and we sat and talked some more. And then he kissed me. There are no words in the dictionary to describe the way this kiss made me feel. He walked me home around 3:30, and kissed me again. I came up to my room and crawled into bed, exhausted, but unable to sleep, thinking about this incredible boy that had just appeared in my life from out of nowhere.
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