This is my summer with an older boy.
I met this guy when I signed up for a program to improve my health and well-being. I was really committed to becoming a better person: I stopped doing drugs, I ate better, I slept better. He became my sponsor or go-to person. Basically, I call him whenever there’s a disturbance in the force or if I’m tempted by the devil, as he liked to call it. We would actually have these group meditation sessions where we just lie down on our backs and spend time together in complete silence. I like the quiet, but it drives some people insane. Noe hated it. He couldn’t stay still. So we would, I suppose, cheat and we’d have conversations, Helen Keller style. We would write out the words in each other’s palms, but i was so bad at it. I couldn’t understand anything. I would always spell out “WTF”, and he would just quietly burst. He would shake of laughter and hold tightly onto my hand so as to not break the silence.
We went on a lot of walks together, and he wasn’t always talkative. He would ask me questions and listen to me, but that was it for a long time. I figured he was just shy. Then I realised that he had a crush on me. People in the group started teasing me about it because I didn’t notice for the longest time. He wouldn’t get around to asking me out, so I did it for him. He said no, and I actually felt so silly. But then, he said,
- I’m the guy. I should ask. …So, expect me to ask sometime soon.
Later that day, he called me and said,
- So… wanna go on a date with me?
I obviously said yes.
On our first date, he took me downtown, and we just walked around, enjoyed everything everywhere, and we talked a lot. It was surprising because he was actually saying things rather than asking questions. He meant to take me kite-flying at the park there, but it rained so that never happened. It didn’t matter though because I’m so used to going to the cinema on dates that this was refreshing.
We had our first kiss one night when I was home alone during a thunderstorm. I was really upset that night because a very close friend of mine was moving to another continent and it was storming. So, I called the older boy, and he drove all the way to my house despite the horrible, horrible weather with a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and crackers. We kissed, I cried (I really don’t know what he saw in me), and we slept together (literally, not sexually). It was a pleasant night.
He never wanted to come with me when I was meeting my friends somewhere because he felt like he didn’t want to intrude on other parts of my life. He always told me that
- We shouldn’t spend every waking moment together despite how good it feels because eventually one of us is going to want some space and it just won’t end well.
I thought that was perfectly reasonable.
I often had supper with his family, and they were really wonderful to me. We had conversations about nothing. We didn’t talk politics, academics, the future, none of that. We just told each other about our day and stories about our lives. They were just a really lovely bunch.
In his bedroom, were a half-empty bookshelf, a Sega Genesis, two guitars, and a small crackly television. I never heard him play the guitar, but I always imagined that it would be way cheesy, so it doesn’t really bother me. He did make me a mix tape though after our first date (and a mix CD in case I didn’t have a tape player, which I didn’t). I definitely did not deserve someone so nice. Our relationship was the best I’d ever had, and I really loved being with him.
We broke up because, at some point, I just started falling out of love with him. It makes me out to be a horrible person, but I just didn’t like him enough. It just didn’t seem fair for either one of us. To be honest, it really did feel like we ended things on good terms, but we don’t talk anymore or anything. I don’t regret the break-up at all, but I don’t want to forget him.
