The long-term approach
So Cute Promoter Girl and I have become pretty close friends over the past couple months. Which is nice since I struck-out with her twice (God, what was I thinking? Wasn't once enough?) and that hasn't seemed to matter to her. Which makes her even more cool. And this friend thing has been working out better than I thought.
In my first post about Cute Promoter Girl (http://www.livejournal.com/users/rockstarwriter/10015.html) I said I felt that something could happen between us and although my advances were spurned, I still feel this way, even more so since I've got to know her. We have so much in common. We are driven and motivated to make something of ourselves, doing what we love to do. We both love being a part music - her through promoting shows, me through my music writing. We are independent and out-going. We are night-owls. We both like to party. We're both really good looking. Er, you get my point.
I've come to realize that getting to know someone that you find attractive over time makes you appreciate that person even more. Although I was mad for Cute Promoter Girl the moment I met her, those feelings have grown into something more wholesome, something deeper and it's safe to say, I am more into her than ever.
This long-term thing seems to be working the other way too. I really think that she's getting to know that I'm not such a bad guy. Or least I hope so. I've tried to show her that I care about her and like her for who she is through subtle and not-so-subtle means, whether it's helping her with work on a flyer for one of her shows or giving her compliments on the way she dresses. I think a lot of former boys in her life were trying to change how she wanted to live, which is something I've assured her I would never do. In fact, wallking to the beat of one's own drum is something I wholeheartedly welcome because not only does it make the other person happy to be doing what they want to be doing, but I also find it fascinating to watch someone persue and achieve his or her goals. There is no way I'd change a thing about this girl. Except for the fact that she isn't as into me as I am into her. However...
***
I wouldn't be confessing these thoughts if it wasn't for something that happened recently. Up until last Friday, I considered Cute Promoter Girl off limits, as friend material only. But things seem different now.
It's Friday night and Cute Promoter Girl's birthday. I write her a nice birthday card - one of those heartfelt messages that can only be written off the top of your head - and get her a few gift certificates to shops I know she would like. She's throwing a party at the local dance spot, so I head down despite the fact that I have to be up early to play softball with my company team the entire next day.
When I get there she's on her way to a hungover Saturday, the Jager freely flowing from hand to mouth. But she's happy and smiling a lot. She looks like she's where she belongs and it makes her look even more beautiful than usual.
The first thing she says to me catches me off guard:
"You're going out tonight and you're saying nothing about it," she points at me. "You're coming to the airport with me in the stretch limo to drop off the DJ."
"When is that?" I inquire, painfully aware what the answer will be.
"3 a.m. or so," she answers. Fuck, I think to myself. Of all the nights - one of my favorite girls asks me to get in the back of a limo (which would probably include a trip back from the airport just her and I) and I can't do it.
Trying to hide my disappointment, I give her the birthday card in the hopes that she will let me off the hook gently and she pounces off to read it in the backstage dressing room. I go to the bar get a drink.
The card's a success. When I find her a few minutes later, she gives me a big hug and doesn't let go right away, something I welcome. But like the hug, the questions lingers in my head - Was that a little too long to be a friend hug? Maybe I'm reading too much into it.
The night passes with more and more alcohol being consumed and I dance for a while until the time approaches when I have to tell the birthday girl that I must make my exit. She's on stage, dancing behind the DJ that only a few months before she rejected me because of, but who she had since fallen out with.
"Noooooo.....You can't leave," she says when I try to say goodnight.
"Sorry, darlin' but I have 10 people counting on me to be able to run without slipping in my own vomit tomorrow morning," I plead.
"But it's my birthday," she cries.
"I know, and I really, really want to stay," I say.
That's when she says it:
"And I was just starting to like you."
...
Silence, as my brain registers what she has just said.
...
"That's probably the worst thing you could say to me right now," I blurt out, my heart in my throat. She keeps on dancing, so I shrug it off and dance with her, enjoying the moment that she actually may have admitted she liked me (Who cares if she was drunk! Let me enjoy this moment!).
"What about that guy over there," I whisper in her ear, pointing to the DJ on the decks while wrapping my arm around her stomach. "He spins a mean record..."
"He lives in Florida," she responds, strangely echoing the same thing I said to her the second time I tried to pick her up two weeks into knowing her. Funny how things work out.
I dance a bit more, but then make my goodbyes. Fortunately, all is not lost although it feels like it. She gives me another big hug and before I can walk away, she grabs my hand.
"Come here," she says as she plants dark-red painted lips on my mine. My face goes flush.
My mind races as I leave the club. Was it merely another drunken moment on a long night that she won't remember? Was she just saying that to get me to stay, knowing full well that I'm into her? Are things said in a drunken state thought about before?
I'm excited to find out. I see it as a win-win situation. I either have a great friend, or something more. Although I'd rather have the latter option, I'm happy with either.
Now there's this small matter of Stylist Sweetheart. Why can't my love life be any easier?
In my first post about Cute Promoter Girl (http://www.livejournal.com/users/rockstarwriter/10015.html) I said I felt that something could happen between us and although my advances were spurned, I still feel this way, even more so since I've got to know her. We have so much in common. We are driven and motivated to make something of ourselves, doing what we love to do. We both love being a part music - her through promoting shows, me through my music writing. We are independent and out-going. We are night-owls. We both like to party. We're both really good looking. Er, you get my point.
I've come to realize that getting to know someone that you find attractive over time makes you appreciate that person even more. Although I was mad for Cute Promoter Girl the moment I met her, those feelings have grown into something more wholesome, something deeper and it's safe to say, I am more into her than ever.
This long-term thing seems to be working the other way too. I really think that she's getting to know that I'm not such a bad guy. Or least I hope so. I've tried to show her that I care about her and like her for who she is through subtle and not-so-subtle means, whether it's helping her with work on a flyer for one of her shows or giving her compliments on the way she dresses. I think a lot of former boys in her life were trying to change how she wanted to live, which is something I've assured her I would never do. In fact, wallking to the beat of one's own drum is something I wholeheartedly welcome because not only does it make the other person happy to be doing what they want to be doing, but I also find it fascinating to watch someone persue and achieve his or her goals. There is no way I'd change a thing about this girl. Except for the fact that she isn't as into me as I am into her. However...
***
I wouldn't be confessing these thoughts if it wasn't for something that happened recently. Up until last Friday, I considered Cute Promoter Girl off limits, as friend material only. But things seem different now.
It's Friday night and Cute Promoter Girl's birthday. I write her a nice birthday card - one of those heartfelt messages that can only be written off the top of your head - and get her a few gift certificates to shops I know she would like. She's throwing a party at the local dance spot, so I head down despite the fact that I have to be up early to play softball with my company team the entire next day.
When I get there she's on her way to a hungover Saturday, the Jager freely flowing from hand to mouth. But she's happy and smiling a lot. She looks like she's where she belongs and it makes her look even more beautiful than usual.
The first thing she says to me catches me off guard:
"You're going out tonight and you're saying nothing about it," she points at me. "You're coming to the airport with me in the stretch limo to drop off the DJ."
"When is that?" I inquire, painfully aware what the answer will be.
"3 a.m. or so," she answers. Fuck, I think to myself. Of all the nights - one of my favorite girls asks me to get in the back of a limo (which would probably include a trip back from the airport just her and I) and I can't do it.
Trying to hide my disappointment, I give her the birthday card in the hopes that she will let me off the hook gently and she pounces off to read it in the backstage dressing room. I go to the bar get a drink.
The card's a success. When I find her a few minutes later, she gives me a big hug and doesn't let go right away, something I welcome. But like the hug, the questions lingers in my head - Was that a little too long to be a friend hug? Maybe I'm reading too much into it.
The night passes with more and more alcohol being consumed and I dance for a while until the time approaches when I have to tell the birthday girl that I must make my exit. She's on stage, dancing behind the DJ that only a few months before she rejected me because of, but who she had since fallen out with.
"Noooooo.....You can't leave," she says when I try to say goodnight.
"Sorry, darlin' but I have 10 people counting on me to be able to run without slipping in my own vomit tomorrow morning," I plead.
"But it's my birthday," she cries.
"I know, and I really, really want to stay," I say.
That's when she says it:
"And I was just starting to like you."
...
Silence, as my brain registers what she has just said.
...
"That's probably the worst thing you could say to me right now," I blurt out, my heart in my throat. She keeps on dancing, so I shrug it off and dance with her, enjoying the moment that she actually may have admitted she liked me (Who cares if she was drunk! Let me enjoy this moment!).
"What about that guy over there," I whisper in her ear, pointing to the DJ on the decks while wrapping my arm around her stomach. "He spins a mean record..."
"He lives in Florida," she responds, strangely echoing the same thing I said to her the second time I tried to pick her up two weeks into knowing her. Funny how things work out.
I dance a bit more, but then make my goodbyes. Fortunately, all is not lost although it feels like it. She gives me another big hug and before I can walk away, she grabs my hand.
"Come here," she says as she plants dark-red painted lips on my mine. My face goes flush.
My mind races as I leave the club. Was it merely another drunken moment on a long night that she won't remember? Was she just saying that to get me to stay, knowing full well that I'm into her? Are things said in a drunken state thought about before?
I'm excited to find out. I see it as a win-win situation. I either have a great friend, or something more. Although I'd rather have the latter option, I'm happy with either.
Now there's this small matter of Stylist Sweetheart. Why can't my love life be any easier?