Since I’ve already mentioned “the one” several times, I figure it’s time I delve into that part of my past with a little more detail, though it’s not going to be an easy task.
When: The last 9 years of my life
I knew of “the one” long before I actually knew him. It seemed everyone did.
He was tall and thin with long brown hair, played bass in a popular band on campus, and could be seen on practically any given night at the most popular under-age drinking facility in town. He was always surrounded by a crowd of people who each waited their turn to have a bit of his attention. When he was up on stage, you would hear his nickname being whispered by 18 year old girls, who thought he was just “dreamy.”
Looking back, this is all sorts of funny to me. Don’t get me wrong, “the one” is a handsome dude, but knowing him the way I know him now, I’m still unsure how he was able to uphold the “it” boy image for so long.
Like many of the other girls, I had a huge gigantic crush “the one,” but never thought that it would come to fruition. Other than a quick “good show, man” in passing, I didn’t say a word to him for the longest time.
Then one day, God and Buddha and Oprah all joined forces to make things happen. My best friend at the time serendipitously moved next door to his best friend.
It took a few weeks, but soon we were hanging out with “the one” and his friends daily. We would spend every week-night in a circle around a bong, each with our books out in front of us in a meager attempt to study. We went out often, but most of our time was spent in “the boys” apartment making up word games and trying to beat our previous record at “empty beer can pyramid.”
I became fast friends with “the one,” and although my feelings for him grew stronger as I got to know him, it became clear that he wasn’t really the “boyfriend” type. He hooked up with girls, but rarely let his feelings get involved. More than that though, he was impossibly immature.
He was always the doer of the group. He was the one would decide to do a woohoo in the middle of the night, which was our term for stealing a 30 pack of Milwaukee Beast from the local grocery store at 3 in the morning. He was the one who would take the dare to drink the bong water. He was the one known for lighting his armpit hair on fire in the middle of an unsuspecting crowd. He rarely showered, and he also ate like a pig.
Not only was he able to ingest more pounds of food than a 6’2″ 140 lb man-boy should have been able to, but he also ate with his mouth open so that you could see every piece of food slowly becoming saturated and turn to mush. He claimed that he had a condition that left him unable to breathe out of his nose when his mouth was in use.
Regardless of all of this, I still liked the guy… but I knew better. I could tell even then, that he was capable of breaking my heart. Instead, I began to focus most of my crushiness on his best friend, whom I shall refer to from this point on as “The Best Friend,” or TBF.
At the end of my sophomore year, circumstances (that I won’t go into now) involving a porn video tape, a forced hand-job, and a yeast infection mistaken for a V.D. caused me to cut off contact with TBF.
On top of that, somewhere over the last few months, my group had turned into a bad nightmare of an episode of Beverly Hills 90210- The College Years. Everyone was hooking up with everyone, and everyone was in love with someone else. People’s feelings were starting to get hurt and I needed some space. I spent that summer back home at my parent’s house. I talked to “the one” a few times, but I wasn’t sure that we’d still be close when we got back to school. I had no idea what our future would hold.
Late that summer I got a call from “the one” asking me to meet him in our college town for the weekend. He explained “The best friend” had plans for the weekend, so I wouldn’t have to deal with him- but that we would have a place to stay. He also said that he didn’t want to much, just to hang out- the two of us. I remember thinking it was completely out of character. We were close, but never before had hung out alone.
I got to the apartment before he did and waited in my car until he showed up. My windows were down and I heard the “Top Gun” theme song blaring before I even got a glimpse of his car. I started laughing as I saw “the one” playing the air guitar in his navy Blazer while wearing a quintessential pair of aviators. A familiar feeling rose in my chest as I got out of the car to meet him.
An actual excerpt from my college journal regarding that particular day… Only the names have been changed:
I kissed him. I kissed him! We made out. I made out with “the one. ” I kissed him! hahaha Well Cori would murder me if she knew. It’s not like they are dating or anything but she acts like she has some sort of claim on him. He’s not a dog
Anyways, I never planned on it and it probably didn’t mean anything to him, but it was nice.
We were both pretty drunk and were both wearing Top Gun aviator glasses. With all the alcohol and him telling me I was soooo beautiful and that I have the best personality and that he’s always had a crush on me, how could I not? I mean… come on. It IS “the one.”
What it is about his charm that gets to me, I have no idea… I know he’s got some major hygiene issues, but I seemed to put those aside when his tongue was in my mouth… That, and he always just acts so happy to see me~ I guess we’ll see what happens!
Talk to ya laterrrrz!