that old feeling
I dreamt that I was a college student, and I fell in love with my anthropology professor, who was a less-studly version of Antonio Banderas. I confessed my feelings to him just before a lecture, and was stuck in that breathless moment where you don't know how the other person will respond. As the other students were flooding into the room, he began a lecture about Mexican drinking customs. He got everyone started on tequila shots and then looked at me over their heads, and I saw the answer in his eyes. Once everyone was distracted by the impromptu party, he made some lame excuse that nobody heard and ushered me into the teacher's lounge where we... well.
But then flash-forward to the beginning of the fall semester. Our antics had been discovered, so my professor was under pressure from his peers and facing possible censure from the University. He was taking his frustrations out on me by being snappish and distant. Meanwhile, I was doing poorly in all my classes, distracted by all the passionate Spanish sex. We began fighting all the time, and called it quits.
There was something about me starting work for a local tv news station and some humiliating scandal involving my professor-man and the girl's bathroom (it was all really a misunderstanding, but no one cared). He was on the brink of ruin, and I was on the rise, but then there was this moment where I looked at him across the room and realized - I still loved him. We met in the middle of a jeering crowd, and the jeers turned to cheers, and it ended just like a bad 80's romantic comedy.
Moral of the story? I just love falling in love. Don't you?
But then flash-forward to the beginning of the fall semester. Our antics had been discovered, so my professor was under pressure from his peers and facing possible censure from the University. He was taking his frustrations out on me by being snappish and distant. Meanwhile, I was doing poorly in all my classes, distracted by all the passionate Spanish sex. We began fighting all the time, and called it quits.
There was something about me starting work for a local tv news station and some humiliating scandal involving my professor-man and the girl's bathroom (it was all really a misunderstanding, but no one cared). He was on the brink of ruin, and I was on the rise, but then there was this moment where I looked at him across the room and realized - I still loved him. We met in the middle of a jeering crowd, and the jeers turned to cheers, and it ended just like a bad 80's romantic comedy.
Moral of the story? I just love falling in love. Don't you?