Dubbed so by none other than our very own Ry Guy.
My mom thinks I have a thing for fall flings. Possible. Two out of my last two relationships happened and ended fall semester. Dalton and David. Same initials and everything. I swear that's a coincidence.
I met David because I had a massive crush on his roommate as a freshman. Honestly, I should probably include that squeeb in the category of "people who influenced me in Cedar City." But I can't just yet. I don't quite have the words to cover that fiasco. It didn't work out, that's the main point. But David did, for awhile.
Despite being hopeless over his roommate, I remember meeting David and thinking he was a cute, fun guy. We talked a few times but summer came and we both went home - opposite directions. Then I ran into him at the bookstore during the first week of school and stopped to say hello. I walked away from that conversation disappointed; he didn't seem very responsive and I figured he just saw me as that pathetic girl chasing after his roomie.
But then he got my number (probably from same said roommate) and called me. And he planned, hands down, the best dates I've ever been on. We went roller skating at this funky old roller rink on the outskirts of town for the first date. The next time, he took me to the DI. Stop right there. Marriage? Absolutely. Done and done. He took me to the DI, we picked out something for the other one to wear, and went to dinner. RIGHT up my alley. He picked out this shirt for me, and I tried to pretend it really was hideous, while in the back of my mind laughing because it was something I would have worn normally. I picked out a bib for him. And was so impressed because he wore it like it was the latest fashion, no shame.
We had a picnic on his roof, played people bingo at Wal-Mart, and he taught me how to cook authentic southern style fried chicken. I loved every minute. Six dates to hold my hand. Nine until he kissed me. Yeah I counted. For the first time, I could picture myself really falling in love, and even marrying someone. He was grown up. A senior, applying for grad schools, sharing an actual house, growing vegetables and splitting wood in the backyard. Plus he sweet talked me with biology talk. That may have clinched it.
He had impeccable timing. When I had to move out of my residence hall, he came over to help me pack, and after days of worrying about everyone else, I finally had someone to worry about me, and listen to my fears. At the end of the semester I was moving yet again, dragging suitcases down the long cement walk dimly lit by the broken street lamps. I felt worn out and on autopilot. He showed up just as I was reaching the stairs. I looked up and he was standing there, backlit, so it took me a minute to register who it really was. If it had been a movie there probably would have been a hallelujah chorus in the background.
I would have seriously considered marrying him and moving to where ever he went to grad school. But I didn't love him. I wanted to. So much. I could see everything working perfectly. He was so solid, steady, and kind. But I didn't love him. After almost four months, I didn't feel any different than I did after our first couple dates. I wanted it to work, but I knew it wouldn't, and I knew I was wasting his time. So after the break, it was over. We never really discussed it, somehow he just knew, and that was it. Didn't see him again for a few months. I took his blood glucose levels for my research project. Sufficiently awkward.
So it didn't work permanently. But it was a step in the right direction I think. He wrote a song for me; I touched (and cooked) raw chicken for him. These are not equal actions of devotion obviously. But hey, he tried his best with that song.
But it was worth it. I finally had a first kiss when my hair was clean.* I finally dated someone older than me. I finally pictured a future, albeit only for a few months. Good luck David. You were wonderful, ideal even. I hope you find someone equally as wonderful.** Thank you.
*This was a big deal. Both of the last guys got dirty hair first kisses. I was determined to break my streak and I ducked out twice until I looked dang good.
**As long as she's not prettier than me.***
***Joke.
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