Expectations: A Love Story

It’s 10:30 P.M. I’m stowed away playing multiplayer matches of Destiny when I should be studying. My K/D ratio was only as good as the dorm WiFi will allow it to be for the night. My roommate was nowhere to be found, which is usually how I like it. I head down from my room to the corner store located on the first floor for my scheduled nightly snack run. Coming off the elevator, I encounter a group of giggling females, a few stopping to greet me as their friends continue on. I could still hear hushed debates about the quality of my dreads as I enter the store. As I’m gathering chips and Oreo’s, the girl behind the counter gives me some interesting news. She asks my permission to give my number out to a girl who lives on the 6th floor. Funny enough, it was one of the same girls who greeted me earlier though I didn’t know which one yet. I’m usually not one for blind dates, but my genitals ensured me that this was a win-win situation regardless. So I said “Fuck it, why not?”.

After a brief exchange of messages, we decided to meet up for lunch the next day. Once I got to the dining area, I was still curious as to who she was. When she motioned to me from the entrance, I was able to recognize her and 3 other girls from the night before. She was slim and dark-skinned, with a septum and curly, bouncy hair with a smile soft and white as cocaine. I symbolically high-five’d my dick for his keen instincts. I made sure to properly introduce myself to her and her friends, who I could tell were the type of friends who were in sync with each other’s thoughts like a well trained SEAL team. One was a lesbian. Another very talkative and obviously the comedic relief of the group. The other was quiet yet intrigued me due to her sly and calm demeanor and her large….assets. We all enjoyed a nice conversation amidst the inside jokes between them and my casual flirting which I could see was well received by my secret admirer. After lunch me and her retreated back to her dorm room to finish our investigation of each other’s pants. We spent a few hours discussing ourselves and really building a connection, one even stronger than the dorms WiFi itself. She had a good way of expressing her own style, with an eye for the little details. She was open-minded, yet with certain values that gave her a sense of pride and drive that she showed. And we clicked well due to my vast knowledge of cannabis and subtly placed creative wittiness. This even led me to inserting my cable into her Ethernet port. From that point on, we became very, very close friends.

We started to really enjoy our time together. Staying in the same building made it quite easy. I fondly remember more than once waking up in her room after a long night, scrambling to grab my board and pants with only 5 minutes to make it to class, only to be right back in her arms a little before midnight. We started to share dreams, desires, and experimental fantasies with each other. We would laugh at each other’s music tastes, roll our eyes at terrible movies, and made store runs for two all while her friends looked upon us with teary eyes of joy and merriment.

“Dating” as my folks used to call it.

However, I myself at the time wouldn’t have used such a strong word. That implies a commitment agreed upon by both parties. The use of labels like “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”, which neither of us used. Over time though, she began to ask certain questions. Questions about what labels we should giving each other. Questions about certain rule sets I should consider when interacting with other females. Questions I didn’t have the answers to. At the time I didn’t think much of it. After all, we were getting along great and I was personally enjoying how things were working out. But apparently she felt differently. And that’s when it hit me.

As we were cuddled together in her room one night, I started to experience a feeling of dread and discomfort as she stroked her fingers through my hair. I couldn’t quite pin the feeling down, as I knew it had nothing to do with my attraction to her. It was more of a premonition, an omen of things to come. I put my flash drive in her USB port one last time to see if the feeling would disappear, but it was still there even after I made her decompress her files. At that moment, I knew I had to make a judgement call. I sat her down and explained to her that everything we had done and continued to do should just end here. That maybe we should just be friends and nothing more. But I was swiftly greeted mid-sentence by a right hand to the cheek. The look on her face signified that I had approximately 30 seconds to vacate the room or risk castration. She elaborated in a voice of quiet fury that I shouldn’t have even come this far in making her believe this was an actual relationship if I was having second thoughts about actually being with her. Especially after all we had done. With that, I had about 10 seconds left so I grabbed my things and left without a word.

Barely seen her since then, although her lesbian friend made it very clear that I was not to approach either of them, her funny friend turns into a depressed widow whenever she sees my face, and her friend with the nice assets just shakes her head in disbelief. Disappointment always hurts worst than anger.

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