The lack of anything remotely amazing happening during our meeting could have been a sign that our acquaintance wasn't anything special. And in fact, life went on as it usually did for me. I only saw Alex at our weekly class. He hung out with the "popular kids", if in fact geology students have the capacity to be popular. I had my own issues to be dealt with anyways.
I was the awkward "non-geologist" sophomore in the front row raising my hand and asking a thousand questions. I still led a sheltered life and didn't even know to be embarrassed by my lack of style or sophistication. Thanks to my father, who never apologized for being himself or even thought to try being something different, I never had the self-consciousness of most people my age. My job in school was to learn as much as I could and get good grades with the expectation that one day I would graduate and get a well paying job. In my own mind's eye, that meant raising my hand continually in order to absorb every single detail.
My boyfriend at the time, Kirk, encouraged good grades and work ethics, so I never felt alone in my struggle for perfection. Kirk was a mechanical engineer, a year and a half my senior, as well as my high school sweetheart. We had met when I was a freshman in high school and things progressed as usual. We went to dances, hung out with friends, laughed, fought, supported each other, challenged each other, and were deeply in love.
He had left for college a year ahead of me and we were still working on our closer proximity relationship. To be honest, our relationship was toxic, but not in the way that you'd expect. We never demeaned nor physically intimidated each other. We were polite and expressive of our feelings. The toxicity in our relationship, in retrospect, stemmed from me. I felt suffocated. I loved Kirk with my entire being, but I was afraid to "be me." I wanted to study abroad and experiment in life and carve my own life out of my blank college slate. In some ways I felt that Kirk was superior to myself. He never wavered in his beliefs nor in his confidence of self. I didn't, and still don't have that rigid of a belief structure. He didn't back down in arguments and most times I would begrudgingly cede the point to avoid escalating the fight. To be honest, he was just better at getting his point across and argued like a master debater. I'm more of a negotiator, and I always felt like I had lost something after our arguments, which led to quite a bit of withheld resentment.
I don't actually remember if I had met Alex before or after Kirk and I had hit our breaking point. Alex was in no way a factor in the ending of Kirk's and my relationship. Dan, however, was. Dan was the complete opposite of Kirk. If you could typify a rebound relationship, ours was it. Kirk and I had broken up hours before Dan and I first kissed, and days before we first had sex. I was high on my new freedom and felt alive for the first time in years. I laughed louder, risked more, smiled incessantly and dared others to question or judge me. I almost got fired from my job as a resident adviser for missing rounds and broke curfew constantly. I almost got arrested twice during my short jaunt with Dan. Both times we were rollerblading: once was trespassing on the assembly hall and the other was not wearing the proper night safety equipment while skating in the middle of the road. I also began catching Dan in lies. Some were innocent, such as, lying about what he was doing in his room: studying vs. playing video games. Others concerned me, such as who he was hanging out with at home and how many driving tickets he repeatedly got.
Although Dan and I were together, I was not even close to being over Kirk. I talked about him incessantly, obsessed about what he was doing, wondered what he would think about what I was doing and wanted approval from him just as much as when we were dating, if not more. We tried to remain friends, but the more we held on, the harder we hurt each other. Not used to hiding the truth from each other, everything that happened with other people was laid down on the table every time we had dinner together. It was fresh salt and lime juice on our wounds every time. In retrospect, I'm positive that Dan realized I wasn't yet over Kirk, but never did he mention his concerns.
The most valuable thing I got out of my relationship with Dan was the friends I made on his floor. I ended up becoming best friends with his neighbor Brett, who lived down the hall. I even dated a veritable barrage of the guys from the floor over the course of my time in college. My best snowboard buddy Darius also lived on that floor, although I was actually to meet him later.
Obviously I tired of the rule breaking, the lying and the late nights. During Thanksgiving break Brett and I were hanging out and decided to go bowling. Dan had texted me asking what I was up to. It was the second time in over a week I had heard from him, and was disappointed in his lack of attention. I told him hanging out with Brett. Dan was upset, but his frustration was masked by his constant need to appear a "tough" guy. He wasn't fooling anyone.
The day we all got back, a bunch of us decided to play broomball. Broomball is basically hockey on ice without skates. Running around an ice-rink in tennis shoes trying to score points at midnight is a most excellent way to spend an evening. I was thoroughly enjoying myself when James (a beautiful example of the Aryan human form of man) collided with Dan and sent him reeling to the ground. Dan was mad at being beaten, but instead of taking it, well, like a man. He choose to cry about it. As soon as those tears began to fall, I lost total and complete respect for Dan as a person. I don't care how hard you get hit on the ice, you don't cry like a pansy baby. Not even I had cried when I cracked my kneecap years earlier on the ice. Sadly I still had the title of girlfriend, so I had to back up Dan. I told off James and the good humor of the game was gone. We decided to call it quits. I could barely look at Dan.
Later that evening, with Dan safely tucked in for the night, Brett and I decided to grab some late-night food and chat. By then, we were both quite tired of Dan and all of his shenanigans. We spent hours complaining about his bad habits, making fun of his clothing, questioning his place at a top tier university and began a friendship that evolved a great deal since then. The noteworthy conclusion to that evening was our decision to live together the following year. I couldn't handle being a resident adviser another year and Brett dreaded living with Dan as a roommate. Shaking hands as our agreement contract as well as our goodnight, we decided to give Dan the bad news in the morning. I would be breaking up with Dan. Brett would be breaking off the idea of living with him. Sometime after that we would tell him that Brett and I would be living together. It was just dessert we honestly felt he deserved. In fact, I still don't regret that somewhat jaded decision.
Our late-night chats became a nightly routine we kept for the entire year. It was also probably the cause of my belated freshman fifteen which I eventually acquired by the end of my sophomore year. I had an unlimited amount of food credits due to my job in university housing, and freely shared them with my friends.
Just before Christmas Brett broke up with his girlfriend Ashley. Actually I have to say they rushed to break up with each other. It was honestly a contest to see who would be the first to say it. I wasn't specifically in their presence when it happened; I was in the shower. However, I was the cause of it. Due to our late night conversations, working out, dining together and all around close friendship, Ashley was completely jealous. I'm not going to say that she didn't have a right to be, but up until then, our relationship was completely platonic. During the week between the breakup and winter break, Brett and I spent almost all of our free time together. Jason Mratz was the artist of our favorite ukulele song and we crammed for all of our exams between watching the Simpsons and getting late-night goodies. In the course of that week, I developed a rather serious crush on Brett. I admired and appreciated his humor, wit, self-depreciating jokes and his dedication to improving himself. I was smitten. I was also pragmatic about the situation. We would both be at our respective homes over break, so there was no reason to start up something until the following semester.
A couple of things occurred during break that put a wrench in that plan. First and most importantly, Brett began dating Olivia. I'll never forget the first thing Brett said about Olivia when he met her. He said she was the most annoying girl he'd ever met and never, in a thousand years date her. A week later, they were an item. Even Brett will agree it was a bad decision brought on by too much beer and loneliness. I never forgave him for it. Of course, I never told him that, and we remained inseparable friends for many years.
I also went on a two week trip to Curacao for my geology class. This was when my crush on Alex was supported by time and proximity together. Nothing amazing happened except that I was able to see the fun loving, jokester side of Alex from afar. I had nothing I could really say to him and for the most part, kept to myself. That's not to say that I didn't have fun on the trip. I had an amazing time. I earned the nickname Queen Neptune from my abilities to snorkel down to around 20 meters where as most people could only manage 5 to 10 feet. I tried Dutch cheese, learned swear words in Papiamentu, and reveled in the sunshine and surf of the beautiful island of Curacao. I returned refreshed and renewed.
Spring semester began with a bang, well a banging, ringing head. I was back on campus because of my job; as was James, the guy who had made Dan cry. James was this enigma to me. He was strong, powerful and not just a little full of himself. However the women he spend his time with were weak willed, spineless and allowed James to do whatever he wanted. We exchanged rather steamy conversations more often that appropriate and as things will, it came to a head. One night we decided to hang out, watch movies and get drunk. I think we both knew what was coming and even celebrated it. The night began to get rather fuzzy, but I do remember three things very clearly. 1. James carried me from my couch to my bed, a great distance of about 5 feet. 2. We made out. 3. We didn't have sex, but James was naked when I woke up.
Brett had repeatedly told me not to do anything with James. Sadly, whenever someone tells me that I can't do something, I do just the opposite. It's made me quite accomplished in my field of study and some other things as well. I took Brett's suggestion as a dare but felt guilty telling him. Brett knew the instant he got back to campus and we were all hanging out together. He questioned me, and I denied it. I denied it for a year, but eventually admitted to it when we were living together.
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