It All Started With A Kiss

XII. (Part Two)

  Having a boyfriend came with many benefits that I found deeply satisfying. One significant advantage was the assurance of a quality companion whenever desired. Whether it was a casual outing to a new café, an adventurous hike in the great outdoors, or a cozy night watching movies, I had the freedom and flexibility to choose activities that genuinely interested me.

Furthermore, my relationship allowed me to explore my intimacy on my own terms. I could engage in as little or as much sexual activity as I felt comfortable with, and I had the liberty to express my desires without judgment. This sense of autonomy gave me immense satisfaction, knowing I could navigate my intimate life according to my preferences, exploring different experiences without feeling restricted.

Having a boyfriend gave me a unique sense of control over various aspects of my life and relationships, allowing me to design experiences that perfectly suited my needs and desires.

A boyfriend often feels a particular entitlement to make demands on my time and attention, as if he should have a say in the dynamics of our relationship. I questioned whether I needed that emotional arrangement, especially when I realized I could fulfill my desires without the complications and obligations of being involved with someone. It made me wonder if what I was experiencing was genuine love and a promise of forever or if it was merely the fleeting nature of infatuation that had swept me off my feet. I considered the possibility that I had simply been swept up in a captivating moment—a moment that, despite its brilliance, might not hold any lasting significance. It was an exhilarating experience, no doubt; however, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was still just a moment that would eventually fade into memory.

Being with Jackson brought me joy and excitement; it felt effortless like we were in sync. The best part was that I could enjoy his company without feeling tied down to a commitment. It was liberating to explore our connection without the pressure of a label. However, I soon realized that this freedom came with some complications. I wanted to spend more time together, but he seemed busy or unavailable whenever I asked him for a specific date or time. This was a new experience for me—I had never encountered a situation where someone I cared about wasn't readily available. I began to wonder if this was the other side of the coin: guys often chase after a girl because she plays hard to get, but could it be that now, by wanting to connect more with Jackson, I was making myself seem less appealing?

Jackson was the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve, far too candid and forthright to engage in manipulative games that others might play. Georgia had once pointed out his lack of experience in the subtle art of relationships, suggesting that he was blissfully unaware of the complexities involved. The thought lingered in my mind—was it possible that he didn’t even know such games existed? This uncertainty left me feeling adrift in unfamiliar waters. I yearned to draw closer to him, to explore the depths of our connection, but simultaneously, a wave of apprehension washed over me. This was new territory for me, and the fear of the unknown made my heart race.

I also didn't know how to approach him. He might respond to my honesty and straightforwardness, though I had no experience acting like that with anyone else. I should have thought about this before I drove over to get him.

Was this prolonged silence merely the uncomfortable pause of two individuals struggling to find words, each tick of the clock amplifying the weight of their unspoken thoughts? Or was it instead the serene, almost timeless quietude shared by two souls content in each other's presence, relishing the simplicity of being together without the pressure of conversation? The atmosphere hung heavy with uncertainty, yet a warmth hinted at a deep, unspoken understanding.

If I came on too strong, I knew it could quickly push most guys away—not just from me, but potentially from all the girls they encountered. It was a sobering thought that lingered in the back of my mind as I navigated my feelings. Then, I recalled a conversation I had with Em. She had confided in me, sharing her deep feelings for him, only for him to convince her that what she felt wasn’t real. It struck me as profoundly unfair how someone could dismiss another’s emotions so easily. I realized that as long as I approached him with a sense of balance and didn’t come off like an obsessive stalker, there was a chance he wouldn’t entirely reject my presence. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to connect with him without scaring him off.

"I had such a good time Saturday night," I said. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed myself more."

I am no stranger to the diplomacy of social intercourse; even better, this time, it was true.

"Me too. I think that's the first time I've ever felt comfortable at a party with people I didn't know," he said.

"It wasn't just the party. I've been to lots of those before. I had a really good time being there with you," I said.

As I caught a glimpse of him, I noticed his broad smile illuminating his face, clearly indicating his joy. It was unmistakably a significant occasion for him and filled him with a sense of accomplishment. He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling enthusiastically, yet he remained silent, perhaps savoring the moment or contemplating his thoughts. I could sense the potential in the air and was determined to see if we could channel this positive energy into a productive discussion moving forward.

"You know, Jackson, after my initial awkwardness, I've really enjoyed all our time together."

True enough, although the awkwardness was more like a massive chip on my shoulder. I can spin with the best of them.

"Me too."

Two fucking syllables? Help me out here, dude.

"I'm looking forward to spending more time with you back at school."

"Yeah."

It made me long for the days of two syllables.

He knew my desire to spend more time together, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. Did he genuinely want to share those moments with me, or was it all just wishful thinking on my part? Perhaps Georgia's perspective had been misguided. She always claimed he excelled in social situations, navigating conversations and connections effortlessly. Yet, I sensed a pattern in his behavior—he would give me enough attention and affection to keep me intrigued but never enough to make real commitments. Frustrated, I pondered a different approach to this complicated dynamic. How could I communicate my feelings without pushing him away?

"Finals are coming up soon. I'll have the time to see you.

"We can study together. I can help you out."

Way to step up, big boy.

"That would be nice."

Now that the important stuff was out, I could relax and enjoy the conversation.

His interests were diverse and varied, covering a broad spectrum of topics, but he was repeatedly drawn back to politics. This fascination stemmed mainly from the fact that political events could be intricately understood through the lens of history. He approached each political position with a well-reasoned foundation, often referencing historical events or figures that illustrated his points. His arguments were not merely academic but infused with a deep-seated passion that made them all the more compelling. I could easily envision him in the throes of a spirited debate, captivating his audience and dismantling his opponents’ arguments with fervor and skill, a true force to be reckoned with in any intellectual showdown.

He helped me out on something that had piqued my curiosity: Shelia's reverence for me.

"You came over to pick up my paper from high school. Shelia saw you, and you were like a movie star to her. You were so gorgeous and glamorous. She imbued you with all the positive attributes we associate with beautiful people. Also, she never heard about the incident."

"Thanks for keeping that from her," I said.

The drive was way too short. I returned to my place rather than dropping him off at his dorm.

"Would you like to come in and help me unpack?"

"You only brought one bag. Why do you need help?"

Nope, he was not socially brilliant.

"Would you like to come in and help me unpack?"

  "Oh. Sure."

But he was educable.

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Word Counts (before edited) - 1439 words