Dark and Lovely

I am opening my diary today.

I've come back to gush. This blog started as a chronicle of my new life in New York City and how I made my way, and somewhere along the way it turned into a chronicle of my search for love in this great and terrible town.

So. In light of that, a story. I want to remember all this.

On May 11, I attended a run with my weird running club. It was our Annual General Meeting and I arrived late, expecting just to meet everyone at the bar at the end, but instead was sent out onto the trail to await the pack in the pouring rain and offer them libations under a Jimmy Choo awning in the West Village. The rain fell so hard the trail washed away, and only five made it.

Back at the bar, I put on my finest, silliest club attire, a cream-colored blazer with multicolored stripes, half covered in patches, and my red plaid kilt. I felt, this being a big event, it was important to represent well. I was, however, about the only one who took this approach. Nonetheless it caught someone's attention.

My friend D.I. caught my attention; he was standing with a tall, slim, attractive, dark-haired and dark-eyed fellow I didn't recognize. Because D is gay, I wondered sort of, if they were together, but my speculation was quickly disproven by a joke the stranger made. We were introduced using our nicknames. I learned he was a transplant, from Ohio. Hey, I'm from Ohio. He was from Cincinnati. I'm familiar a little; I went to Wright State for a while. Hey, he went to Wright State for a while. Hey, we both dropped out and went to other schools. He went a couple years after I left though; he was six years younger than me.

Six years. Hrmph, I thought. There goes that. Oh well, always good to have a new friend in the crowd. I liked this guy; he was funny and smart, and I could tell he's one of the good ones, that he'd make our running club a better place.

The circle came and went. He was made to drink once, with C.O. and I noticed her hand on is ass, feeling my stomach turn in a knot of jealousy. But I let it go. He was too young for me. He attempted to make a great joke, which fell flat on the ears of NYCers; he's used to elsewhere, to chapters of our club that are not quite so buttoned-up. He got all huffy about it after the circle, complaining to me that this was supposed to be a place where people could be themselves, and I agreed. I tried as hard as I could to soothe him, knowing he was one of the good ones because he felt this way, and wanting, as I always do, to keep the good ones coming back.  "God…" He sighed at me, looking frustrated, shaking his head.  "You're something else."

He kissed me.

My heart fell out of my chest. I couldn't breathe. I put my arms around his neck to keep from falling over. It was…I've never been kissed like that before. I've never seen stars the way I saw stars. I think I might have moaned audibly. When he pulled away, I was sure I had dreamed it. I realized he had kissed me in front of all my friends, and that there was not a single person who hadn't noticed. This doesn't happen to me. I am not that girl.

He had to go, but asked what I was doing later. I had a friend's party. He had plans, but wanted to meet me after. Yes.

He put my number in his phone and texted me: "I want to rip your clothes off right now!"

I laughed and texted him back: "My Nerd Name is Kyle."

Kyle? That was his middle name.

Oh jesus.