so I've just been hit on by a very cute German exchange student, and I'm flustered like whoa
Exciting things are happening.
I know I haven't posted since that time when I spoke about our close family friend being diagnosed with cancer. So many things have happened, lord, this is going to be a long post. Brace yourselves for my awkward hilarity, also presenting to you the first time I've ever experienced a crush on a real person. I'm dead serious this time. I've never felt like this. Oh god. But context. Context is important. Right.
So you all probably know about my housing mishaps. I was broken-hearted when I flew back to Durham this year, because the people whom I had considered closest to me had abandoned me. I found out recently that this is because I "stressed" one of the law students out by "studying too much". Whatever. Okay. I'm trying to get over it.
So that monday/tuesday was horrible. I cried as much as I had expected to, but I managed to hold off until my parents couldn't see me. The flight was pretty decent. I slept all the way through, from Singapore to London, and woke up just before we landed. I had a little bit to eat, because I was on my period, and not feeling too great, but yeah, the flight was decent. Between London and Newcastle, I made friends with the lady beside me. She'd married the man whom she'd been living with, and in love with for 30 years, and they'd been closing on 35 years together. It was pretty amazing.
The following day was insane. Literally, crazy. I landed in Newcastle, and I'd made a couple of Durham friends in the airport/flight, so we shared a taxi instead of me lugging my shit through the trains etc. I got off at Durham station, and got my taxi after they'd left, because my flight had been delayed. The taxi driver took me to the hostel, and we got my shit up the stairs and into my room. My corridor looked empty. Then we went down, I begged the porter to help me open all the doors - it wasn't Wayne (whom I love like a very cool, darling uncle/grandfather person, which made it a little harder), and got into the taxi to go to the old house.
I couldn't find my keys for the old place, and had to knock on the windows of the guy who'd already moved in. He came out and helped me move get my gazillions of boxes into the taxi, along with the taxi driver, bless his heart. Bless both of them, actually, ugh. I'd have died. The taxi driver was complaining about the receptionist at my dorm, whom I also love because she is such a gem. But when i got in, she saw me struggling and immediately came out to help, even though she's like, 65 years old. She'd such an absolute darling, and the taxi driver and the receptionist and I got everything into the lift and up the stairs. The porter finally came to open the doors, and when we were pushing boxes through the corridors into my room, my flatmate came out. I won't say it was anything at first sight, really, but the first thing he did was pick up some stuff I was struggling with, and move it into the kitchen, where I could easily access it. Even before I could say hi, or introduce myself, or even before he knew whether I was his flatmate or whatever. He's JB.
So I got all my shit into the new flat, and JB and I were the only ones there. I was completely knackered, and I just had to unpack, because there was no way else I could sleep. I also had other things to do, so it literally had to be done there and then. So we chatted for a little bit, and I was still puffing and panting and unwashed from my flight, hair everywhere and sweating very messily. And it turns out that he's very good friends with a very good friend of mine. He's very good friends with multiple friends of mine, actually. We're both third year students in the same college, and we'd never met, and it was incredible.
I'd called LK over to stop me from crying all over the place, and to help me unpack. The darling that she was, she came over and stuck around. My laptop was being weird, and not connecting to the internet (because of some SNAFU with AVG), so I had to go to the IT department, and I was late because I was so deeply involved in chatting with JB. Portents of doom, naturally. I think my heart skipped a beat when he confessed to being a massive Sherlock fan. On the second night, we watched The Hound in his room, because he has a big screen. We cooked dinner together, and shared. The windows had been opened in the kitchen though, and wasps had invaded. I'd called the porters to come and help, because I was terrified, but there had still been a few left. J valiantly defended me from each remaining wasp with his very nice shoes. He waved it off every time I tried to say thanks.
Right, so people started coming in, and the flat filled up quickly enough. He's an economics student, and a damned good one. He's a captain of a rifle club, and he went to a grammar school. He cooks, because his mother is often travelling. He wants to help his dad eventually take over the family business. He helps his little brother with his personal statement. He doesn't sit down in my room unless I tell him to. He just kinda stands near the entrance, as if I might not want him there. He's nothing like SC. He's. I. I'm not doing him justice, but. He's able to intelligently discuss why blurred lines is a bad song, and he's passionate about his degree course. Like, whoa passionate. He has a job lined up in the future. He's not a big drinker. He's not a big clubber. He's in the same boat as me, because he fell out with his past year's housemates, and even though he has friends everywhere, like I do, he moved into a flat with strangers, because that's just how it worked out.
He and a common friend asked me why I had never been to Klute. I told them to story of being pinned to the ground for three minutes by two kissing men, in freshers' week. I'm not sure if I've talked about Klute before, but in 2008 it was the second most notorious club in Europe. In 2009, it became the most notorious club in Europe, because the first one burnt down. I never went back, after my experience. Anyone who knows me I have no problem with kissing men, but kissing men on top of me and being pinned flat for three minutes because everyone was too drunk to help me, well. I never went back, let's just leave it at that.
Until this weekend. After my fuck up with my housemates, I'd decided that I'm going to live this year to the fullest. Actually, seriously, I decided that I wasn't going to turn down opportunities, and that I was going to go out and do what I wanted to do, before it was time for me to go back to Singapore. So that Friday was silent disco night at my college. I wanted to go, because silent discos are ahmazing. I called out a few people whom I like, but whom I'd never really hung out with, and asked JB to come along. He did, because he had to meet a friend anyway. We talked about television and movies and books and life, and it was really good. And he had to meet his friend at Klute, so he asked us to come along. And because he knew about my issue, he pulled me to a side and said it would be fine. Combined with my determination to do things this year, I decided that it was a great idea. And we went to Klute.
And oh, my god. Okay, first of all, it was ridiculously fun. Secondly, JB was an absolute darling. He didn't drink much, and I bought my first drink, ever. As in, literally, I've never bought myself a drink before, because I don't drink. I didn't drink. I got a rum and coke, and we sat next to each other and had a drink. Everyone who'd come out with me later told me that he was almost unbearably attractive. I agreed, but didn't say anything. He was a terrible dancer, but so incredibly sweet. Klute is the place where you wouldn't exactly be comfortable, dancing. As in, you have to be absolutely plastered to not mind the lack of space, and the heat, and the insanity that is Klute. That's why it's where everyone goes to end the night. There were so many people, and it was so impossibly crowded, and J kinda made sure that he stood between me and any rowdy, loud people. When I laughed because a fresher hit on me despite the fact that I told him I was a third year, he shrugged and grinned and said that the guy was just trying to get lucky. I've never met anyone who grins like JB. This is fucking ridiculous.
You guys need to know something. I'm not that girl who gets hit on, in clubs. I'm just not. I don't have that vibe. I can't dance, I'm not particularly pretty, or sexy, and I'm never drunk enough to come across as easy prey. All my friends get hit on, but never me. That night, I was hit on almost relentlessly. I call myself a feminist, I am, I swear it. It doesn't matter, I don't need validation to be confident in myself and my abilities. But damn, it felt good. I was hit on by a lot of freshers, which was a little hilarious. There was this one guy who looked like Tim the Toolman Taylor's son, with the most gorgeous smile and laser blue eyes, who kinda held on to me and didn't let me go. It wasn't scary, though, because he wasn't being pushy. I was 'rescued' by one of my friends, but J had been watching me from across the room. We lost each other after some time, and my and the girl friend who'd stuck by my side decided to go home, but my god, I'd made new friends, and it had been a confidence booster like whoa.
JB and I bonded over Sherlock some more, the next day, and he told me about his exes. He's had two of them, and he's still torn up about the last one. From what I could tell though, it was a great escape from a pretty disastrous relationship. He seems to have had bad experiences, because from what I could tell, both of them had been a bit whoa. He told our common friend that he can't stop thinking about the last one, which I thought was incredibly sweet. He was so proud of the fact that he got me into, and out of Klute, and that he kept me alive. It was great. And then we watched Sherlock, and tried to rope people into it, by watching it in the common room downstairs. When our good common friend came over, she said she was glad we were friends now. He laughed, and he said, "Oh, we were facebook official before you even came over." Over the past week, we've watched the first two eps of Sherlock, and then after the second ep, everyone else went upstairs because it was late, but we stayed up and watched TGG lying on the couch together in the common room.
When we were climbing the stairs to the flat, he said, I have to go to town to pick up stuff from my old girlfriend tomorrow. It didn't occur to me until I was back in my room, but I texted him and said that if he needed a hand, I'd be free. He responded with a thanks, and a smiley face. The next day he sent me a text saying, "are you free tonight? I'm feeling a little hobbitty". I said yes and we set a time. When he came to get me from my room, he asked if anyone else was coming. I said it was up to him. He smiled, and shrugged, and we went down. It took some time to set it up downstairs and we were just chatting and it was nice. We watched half of it downstairs, but because it was taking too long to buffer, we decided to come up and watch it, in his room.
Every time we'd sat down to watch something, I'd shared my chocolate with him, because he has a massive sweet tooth like me, and we love the same types of chocolate. We're the only ones in the flat who would die without Marsbars. When we watched the second half of the hobbit in his room, he shared his pillow with me and we both slouched on his bed, and he shared his chocolate with me, and I died a little inside. At the end of it, he said, thanks for watching the with me. I do not even have the words and this is why I am incoherent.
I really like him. Like. A lot. I've had flashes of infatuation before, which lasted for a day and a half, or two days, before fizzling out. This has been going strong for about two weeks now. I've never sustained such feelings for real people before. People who didn't appear on TV, or in books.
Also something's really different this year. I don't know if it's me, or my hair, or if I look older or I don't know. I went to the bank and I was chatting with the manager who was helping me sort out my address change. He was so nice to me, and we chatted about law and his sister who's a lawyer and about work and life and travelling and family and duties and all that, and then he slipped me his number. He was adorable, and really tall, and very northern, and he had a piercing in one ear.
I don't?? What? But? How? I'm 162 centimeters, and I have a bit of a tummy going on, and I'm blind without my glasses, and I'm too passionate about Sherlock and law and tom hiddleston, and I rant about Loki and the Avengers and can't eat anything that isn't spicy but I forget to eat and end up eating rubbish like frozen pizza and cake batter. I wander around in sweatpants and jumpers all the time and I'm too lazy to wear contacts. I sometimes skip showering at night because I'm too busy crying over tumblr or fanfic, or over dissertation because I have no life. When I don't leave my room, I don't wear a bra. I'm terrified of bugs and have been known to walk into stuff. I'm overly dramatic and too nerdy for words and I'm not the one whom people like, like that. I'm not that cool, or interesting, or pretty. I'm just me, and people have never noticed me before and I don't know what to do with it. I'm not fishing, I know I'm not gross, or stupid or anything, but it's people like KB who have attractive personalities. KB's the one who steals your breath when you walk into a room. People never notice me. I don't know what's going on.
I was with a good friend at the college bar after a really good debate and i was sitting with some of her housemates who'd come to pick her up. I've known these people since first year. literally, i've lived in close proximity to them. i knew all their names and none of them knew mine, but each any every one of them hugged me goodbye at the end of the night, and one of them kissed my cheek. i've swapped numbers with a ridiculous number of people in these past two weeks and I.
Today I was in the library of all places, and I was waiting for the book scanner, and I was chatting with this German Erasmus student about how silly it was that we only had one scanning machine in the whole library, and I am 900% sure he was flirting with me. I went to renew my short loan book and when I got back he wanted to add me on facebook, there and then. He stood up when I stood up, and he didn't break eye contact a single time and he had the loveliest smile and he was so delightfully tall. We bonded over the efficiency of the German and Singapore administrative systems, and I thought we were just being friendly, because he'd just arrived and he was bound to be lonely and stressed out. Then he invited me out to coffee and gave me his number. Look at this conversation he started on FB.
edit: Part 2:
I don't even know how to respond because I want to correct his sentence structure and tAKE HIM OUT FOR COFFEE AT THE SAME TIME WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! AND I DON'T KNOW WHETHER I SHOULD GO FOR COFFEE WITH HIM OR WAIT FOR JB BECAUSE MC AND A BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE WHOM I'VE SPOKEN TO, ALL THINK THAT I'M NOT IMAGINING IT.
BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M NOT THAT GIRL. PEOPLE DON'T LIKE ME, LIKE THAT. WHAT IF I'M MAKING THIS UP IN MY HEAD BECAUSE I'M DESPERATELY LONELY, AND I'M SEEING THINGS WHICH DON'T EXIST. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT WHEN HE TURNS TO ME DURING A DEBATE AND EXPLAINS THE MARGARET THATCHER SITUATION IN MY EAR IT TAKES PHYSICAL RESTRAINT TO NOT HOLD ON TO HIM AND NOT LET HIM GO. I HAVE AN UNBEARABLE NEED TO CUDDLE HIM.
He's adorable. He's ridiculously cute. I don't even know about the German, it's weird, he was definitely hitting on me but I remember what happened the last time a guy hit on me and asked me to coffee. True, last time it was in a club and this time it was in a library in front of the scanning machine. But JB is a sweetheart. His best friend is a girl who's president of the union this term. He likes to debate politics and he splits his chocolate bars in half with me. We had a very intense discussion about who the hell Lady Galadriel is, considering that it's been years since we've both read the books. When I walk past his room and wish him good morning, or hello, he comes out and chats with me for fifteen minutes in the hall way, without fail. I have to look up to make eye contact with him. He always smells like toothpaste when we're watching movies together and he has dimples. If this isn't a crush, I don't know what the fuck is. I want to stop swearing around him. I want to always be presentable. I look in the mirror before going into the kitchen, FFS. I don't normally even care if my hair looks like a birds nest or if I have tear tracks on my face, when I need morning tea. Now, I wash my face before I find tea. I don't. How?
I apologize in advance for the incoherence, but i genuinely need advice. i'm feeling incredibly insecure because i'm not sure if i can trust my own instincts on this. my instincts say go, but i'm genuinely terrified that i'm seeing what i want to see where nothing exists. if anyone can get through to the end, i've written everything that i can remember. any suggestions would be fantastic.
I know I haven't posted since that time when I spoke about our close family friend being diagnosed with cancer. So many things have happened, lord, this is going to be a long post. Brace yourselves for my awkward hilarity, also presenting to you the first time I've ever experienced a crush on a real person. I'm dead serious this time. I've never felt like this. Oh god. But context. Context is important. Right.
So you all probably know about my housing mishaps. I was broken-hearted when I flew back to Durham this year, because the people whom I had considered closest to me had abandoned me. I found out recently that this is because I "stressed" one of the law students out by "studying too much". Whatever. Okay. I'm trying to get over it.
So that monday/tuesday was horrible. I cried as much as I had expected to, but I managed to hold off until my parents couldn't see me. The flight was pretty decent. I slept all the way through, from Singapore to London, and woke up just before we landed. I had a little bit to eat, because I was on my period, and not feeling too great, but yeah, the flight was decent. Between London and Newcastle, I made friends with the lady beside me. She'd married the man whom she'd been living with, and in love with for 30 years, and they'd been closing on 35 years together. It was pretty amazing.
The following day was insane. Literally, crazy. I landed in Newcastle, and I'd made a couple of Durham friends in the airport/flight, so we shared a taxi instead of me lugging my shit through the trains etc. I got off at Durham station, and got my taxi after they'd left, because my flight had been delayed. The taxi driver took me to the hostel, and we got my shit up the stairs and into my room. My corridor looked empty. Then we went down, I begged the porter to help me open all the doors - it wasn't Wayne (whom I love like a very cool, darling uncle/grandfather person, which made it a little harder), and got into the taxi to go to the old house.
I couldn't find my keys for the old place, and had to knock on the windows of the guy who'd already moved in. He came out and helped me move get my gazillions of boxes into the taxi, along with the taxi driver, bless his heart. Bless both of them, actually, ugh. I'd have died. The taxi driver was complaining about the receptionist at my dorm, whom I also love because she is such a gem. But when i got in, she saw me struggling and immediately came out to help, even though she's like, 65 years old. She'd such an absolute darling, and the taxi driver and the receptionist and I got everything into the lift and up the stairs. The porter finally came to open the doors, and when we were pushing boxes through the corridors into my room, my flatmate came out. I won't say it was anything at first sight, really, but the first thing he did was pick up some stuff I was struggling with, and move it into the kitchen, where I could easily access it. Even before I could say hi, or introduce myself, or even before he knew whether I was his flatmate or whatever. He's JB.
So I got all my shit into the new flat, and JB and I were the only ones there. I was completely knackered, and I just had to unpack, because there was no way else I could sleep. I also had other things to do, so it literally had to be done there and then. So we chatted for a little bit, and I was still puffing and panting and unwashed from my flight, hair everywhere and sweating very messily. And it turns out that he's very good friends with a very good friend of mine. He's very good friends with multiple friends of mine, actually. We're both third year students in the same college, and we'd never met, and it was incredible.
I'd called LK over to stop me from crying all over the place, and to help me unpack. The darling that she was, she came over and stuck around. My laptop was being weird, and not connecting to the internet (because of some SNAFU with AVG), so I had to go to the IT department, and I was late because I was so deeply involved in chatting with JB. Portents of doom, naturally. I think my heart skipped a beat when he confessed to being a massive Sherlock fan. On the second night, we watched The Hound in his room, because he has a big screen. We cooked dinner together, and shared. The windows had been opened in the kitchen though, and wasps had invaded. I'd called the porters to come and help, because I was terrified, but there had still been a few left. J valiantly defended me from each remaining wasp with his very nice shoes. He waved it off every time I tried to say thanks.
Right, so people started coming in, and the flat filled up quickly enough. He's an economics student, and a damned good one. He's a captain of a rifle club, and he went to a grammar school. He cooks, because his mother is often travelling. He wants to help his dad eventually take over the family business. He helps his little brother with his personal statement. He doesn't sit down in my room unless I tell him to. He just kinda stands near the entrance, as if I might not want him there. He's nothing like SC. He's. I. I'm not doing him justice, but. He's able to intelligently discuss why blurred lines is a bad song, and he's passionate about his degree course. Like, whoa passionate. He has a job lined up in the future. He's not a big drinker. He's not a big clubber. He's in the same boat as me, because he fell out with his past year's housemates, and even though he has friends everywhere, like I do, he moved into a flat with strangers, because that's just how it worked out.
He and a common friend asked me why I had never been to Klute. I told them to story of being pinned to the ground for three minutes by two kissing men, in freshers' week. I'm not sure if I've talked about Klute before, but in 2008 it was the second most notorious club in Europe. In 2009, it became the most notorious club in Europe, because the first one burnt down. I never went back, after my experience. Anyone who knows me I have no problem with kissing men, but kissing men on top of me and being pinned flat for three minutes because everyone was too drunk to help me, well. I never went back, let's just leave it at that.
Until this weekend. After my fuck up with my housemates, I'd decided that I'm going to live this year to the fullest. Actually, seriously, I decided that I wasn't going to turn down opportunities, and that I was going to go out and do what I wanted to do, before it was time for me to go back to Singapore. So that Friday was silent disco night at my college. I wanted to go, because silent discos are ahmazing. I called out a few people whom I like, but whom I'd never really hung out with, and asked JB to come along. He did, because he had to meet a friend anyway. We talked about television and movies and books and life, and it was really good. And he had to meet his friend at Klute, so he asked us to come along. And because he knew about my issue, he pulled me to a side and said it would be fine. Combined with my determination to do things this year, I decided that it was a great idea. And we went to Klute.
And oh, my god. Okay, first of all, it was ridiculously fun. Secondly, JB was an absolute darling. He didn't drink much, and I bought my first drink, ever. As in, literally, I've never bought myself a drink before, because I don't drink. I didn't drink. I got a rum and coke, and we sat next to each other and had a drink. Everyone who'd come out with me later told me that he was almost unbearably attractive. I agreed, but didn't say anything. He was a terrible dancer, but so incredibly sweet. Klute is the place where you wouldn't exactly be comfortable, dancing. As in, you have to be absolutely plastered to not mind the lack of space, and the heat, and the insanity that is Klute. That's why it's where everyone goes to end the night. There were so many people, and it was so impossibly crowded, and J kinda made sure that he stood between me and any rowdy, loud people. When I laughed because a fresher hit on me despite the fact that I told him I was a third year, he shrugged and grinned and said that the guy was just trying to get lucky. I've never met anyone who grins like JB. This is fucking ridiculous.
You guys need to know something. I'm not that girl who gets hit on, in clubs. I'm just not. I don't have that vibe. I can't dance, I'm not particularly pretty, or sexy, and I'm never drunk enough to come across as easy prey. All my friends get hit on, but never me. That night, I was hit on almost relentlessly. I call myself a feminist, I am, I swear it. It doesn't matter, I don't need validation to be confident in myself and my abilities. But damn, it felt good. I was hit on by a lot of freshers, which was a little hilarious. There was this one guy who looked like Tim the Toolman Taylor's son, with the most gorgeous smile and laser blue eyes, who kinda held on to me and didn't let me go. It wasn't scary, though, because he wasn't being pushy. I was 'rescued' by one of my friends, but J had been watching me from across the room. We lost each other after some time, and my and the girl friend who'd stuck by my side decided to go home, but my god, I'd made new friends, and it had been a confidence booster like whoa.
JB and I bonded over Sherlock some more, the next day, and he told me about his exes. He's had two of them, and he's still torn up about the last one. From what I could tell though, it was a great escape from a pretty disastrous relationship. He seems to have had bad experiences, because from what I could tell, both of them had been a bit whoa. He told our common friend that he can't stop thinking about the last one, which I thought was incredibly sweet. He was so proud of the fact that he got me into, and out of Klute, and that he kept me alive. It was great. And then we watched Sherlock, and tried to rope people into it, by watching it in the common room downstairs. When our good common friend came over, she said she was glad we were friends now. He laughed, and he said, "Oh, we were facebook official before you even came over." Over the past week, we've watched the first two eps of Sherlock, and then after the second ep, everyone else went upstairs because it was late, but we stayed up and watched TGG lying on the couch together in the common room.
When we were climbing the stairs to the flat, he said, I have to go to town to pick up stuff from my old girlfriend tomorrow. It didn't occur to me until I was back in my room, but I texted him and said that if he needed a hand, I'd be free. He responded with a thanks, and a smiley face. The next day he sent me a text saying, "are you free tonight? I'm feeling a little hobbitty". I said yes and we set a time. When he came to get me from my room, he asked if anyone else was coming. I said it was up to him. He smiled, and shrugged, and we went down. It took some time to set it up downstairs and we were just chatting and it was nice. We watched half of it downstairs, but because it was taking too long to buffer, we decided to come up and watch it, in his room.
Every time we'd sat down to watch something, I'd shared my chocolate with him, because he has a massive sweet tooth like me, and we love the same types of chocolate. We're the only ones in the flat who would die without Marsbars. When we watched the second half of the hobbit in his room, he shared his pillow with me and we both slouched on his bed, and he shared his chocolate with me, and I died a little inside. At the end of it, he said, thanks for watching the with me. I do not even have the words and this is why I am incoherent.
I really like him. Like. A lot. I've had flashes of infatuation before, which lasted for a day and a half, or two days, before fizzling out. This has been going strong for about two weeks now. I've never sustained such feelings for real people before. People who didn't appear on TV, or in books.
Also something's really different this year. I don't know if it's me, or my hair, or if I look older or I don't know. I went to the bank and I was chatting with the manager who was helping me sort out my address change. He was so nice to me, and we chatted about law and his sister who's a lawyer and about work and life and travelling and family and duties and all that, and then he slipped me his number. He was adorable, and really tall, and very northern, and he had a piercing in one ear.
I don't?? What? But? How? I'm 162 centimeters, and I have a bit of a tummy going on, and I'm blind without my glasses, and I'm too passionate about Sherlock and law and tom hiddleston, and I rant about Loki and the Avengers and can't eat anything that isn't spicy but I forget to eat and end up eating rubbish like frozen pizza and cake batter. I wander around in sweatpants and jumpers all the time and I'm too lazy to wear contacts. I sometimes skip showering at night because I'm too busy crying over tumblr or fanfic, or over dissertation because I have no life. When I don't leave my room, I don't wear a bra. I'm terrified of bugs and have been known to walk into stuff. I'm overly dramatic and too nerdy for words and I'm not the one whom people like, like that. I'm not that cool, or interesting, or pretty. I'm just me, and people have never noticed me before and I don't know what to do with it. I'm not fishing, I know I'm not gross, or stupid or anything, but it's people like KB who have attractive personalities. KB's the one who steals your breath when you walk into a room. People never notice me. I don't know what's going on.
I was with a good friend at the college bar after a really good debate and i was sitting with some of her housemates who'd come to pick her up. I've known these people since first year. literally, i've lived in close proximity to them. i knew all their names and none of them knew mine, but each any every one of them hugged me goodbye at the end of the night, and one of them kissed my cheek. i've swapped numbers with a ridiculous number of people in these past two weeks and I.
Today I was in the library of all places, and I was waiting for the book scanner, and I was chatting with this German Erasmus student about how silly it was that we only had one scanning machine in the whole library, and I am 900% sure he was flirting with me. I went to renew my short loan book and when I got back he wanted to add me on facebook, there and then. He stood up when I stood up, and he didn't break eye contact a single time and he had the loveliest smile and he was so delightfully tall. We bonded over the efficiency of the German and Singapore administrative systems, and I thought we were just being friendly, because he'd just arrived and he was bound to be lonely and stressed out. Then he invited me out to coffee and gave me his number. Look at this conversation he started on FB.
edit: Part 2:
I don't even know how to respond because I want to correct his sentence structure and tAKE HIM OUT FOR COFFEE AT THE SAME TIME WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! AND I DON'T KNOW WHETHER I SHOULD GO FOR COFFEE WITH HIM OR WAIT FOR JB BECAUSE MC AND A BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE WHOM I'VE SPOKEN TO, ALL THINK THAT I'M NOT IMAGINING IT.
BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M NOT THAT GIRL. PEOPLE DON'T LIKE ME, LIKE THAT. WHAT IF I'M MAKING THIS UP IN MY HEAD BECAUSE I'M DESPERATELY LONELY, AND I'M SEEING THINGS WHICH DON'T EXIST. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT WHEN HE TURNS TO ME DURING A DEBATE AND EXPLAINS THE MARGARET THATCHER SITUATION IN MY EAR IT TAKES PHYSICAL RESTRAINT TO NOT HOLD ON TO HIM AND NOT LET HIM GO. I HAVE AN UNBEARABLE NEED TO CUDDLE HIM.
He's adorable. He's ridiculously cute. I don't even know about the German, it's weird, he was definitely hitting on me but I remember what happened the last time a guy hit on me and asked me to coffee. True, last time it was in a club and this time it was in a library in front of the scanning machine. But JB is a sweetheart. His best friend is a girl who's president of the union this term. He likes to debate politics and he splits his chocolate bars in half with me. We had a very intense discussion about who the hell Lady Galadriel is, considering that it's been years since we've both read the books. When I walk past his room and wish him good morning, or hello, he comes out and chats with me for fifteen minutes in the hall way, without fail. I have to look up to make eye contact with him. He always smells like toothpaste when we're watching movies together and he has dimples. If this isn't a crush, I don't know what the fuck is. I want to stop swearing around him. I want to always be presentable. I look in the mirror before going into the kitchen, FFS. I don't normally even care if my hair looks like a birds nest or if I have tear tracks on my face, when I need morning tea. Now, I wash my face before I find tea. I don't. How?
I apologize in advance for the incoherence, but i genuinely need advice. i'm feeling incredibly insecure because i'm not sure if i can trust my own instincts on this. my instincts say go, but i'm genuinely terrified that i'm seeing what i want to see where nothing exists. if anyone can get through to the end, i've written everything that i can remember. any suggestions would be fantastic.