Half Sweet n' Half Nuts

Yes, for those with insatiable curiosity, he called. Not the next day but the day after. He said - no ones home, I'm alone and itching to play the guitar and I got beer, you want to to come over?

I should have said no. Why did I say yes?

He picked me up, played the guitar while I hummed along and chatted like the night before until his friends came home at midnight, singing "Happy Birthday to you"!! It was his birthday! I guess its good I said yes! So we sat around, him, me and his friends, these guys drinking, playing the guitar, me making requests and humming along till everyone else dropped off to sleep and it was just us again.

I should have gone home. Why did I stay till the sun came out?

We talked about how bizarre this was, how completely unusual for both of us. Its really weird that we could talk this freely.. about everything! I really can't remember most of what we talked about that night. I do remember at one point we were discussing what fruits we liked and for some reason it seemed really important that we liked the same fruits! And then we just stayed together... completely at ease with each other waiting for the sun to come out.

He asked me if I'd come back after a nap and help him pack. I should have said no and wished him goodbye right then. Why did I go the next afternoon?

Like I told him, I do not know. We're not anything other than friends. Yet we're hoping we get to meet again. I know I am. He's barely taller than me, definitely thinner than me, and yes, almost 2 yrs younger. Home for him is the worst city in the world for me. He doesn't speak either of my native tongues. But he's sweet, and thoughtful. He makes me laugh just to hear the sound of my laugh. And he laughs with me, at the worst of my jokes (though his jokes are a lot worse than mine)! He makes this post extremely cliched and corny but I know if I were to read this with him we'd both delight in the cheesiness of it all. This is not a love story; its just a glimpse at what could have been something special.

I guess I don't want to really know how this ends. But for the moment, I think I made a friend.

If you spend the entire night with a stranger swapping life histories, sob stories and dreams for your future can you call the stranger a friend?

It all happened one Friday night... we (my roommates and I) were invited to an ex-colleagues "house cooling party" i.e we'd gone for the house warming party when he and his roomie had moved in and now that they were moving on to bigger and better things we were invited to another party to say goodbye. We didn't really know either of the guys very well, just acquaintances at school but it was deemed that we make an appearance so we did.

It was one of those nights when I was possessed by the lunar madness and my apartment and room feel like a prison and my cell respectively and I just had to get out. I needed the most frivolous form of human contact... loud music, carefree dancing, irrelevant banter, your regular party inanities. So we went. We didn't really know too many people there... even the hosts didn't know most of the people who showed up, so for me it was the perfect party for that kind of night. Of course the people I went with didn't quite like this, so we made an appearance and came back home after an hour.

Lets just say I wasn't quite thrilled to be back. I was craving some adventure though I didn't quite realize it. So after a while I called the hosts and went back. The party lasted till about 4:00 in the morning. All the while I found myself in conversation with my ex-colleagues roomie (at the risk of blatantly borrowing terminology lets just call him the boy). I'd met him only once in between the rising and falling of their house temperatures (warming/cooling) at another friends party the week before and had found him easy to talk to and comfortable to be with.

At this point I must add a disclaimer. Most people would like to believe I had developed a soft spot for the above mentioned boy and I was giving him a lot more importance than might be considered wise, if one were to follow the practice of giving men something to chase after. I'd like to first off discount any such notions. In my belief I was simply looking for someone new to talk to and hang out with so as to escape the boredom of my monotonous existence at that point; although I will grant the boy was certainly agreeable company and the evening was quite enjoyable.

When the party ended, and the boy was dropping me home I did what any well mannered girl would never think of doing - I asked him if he really wanted the night to end and if he was going to sleep after dropping me home. Since he had a commitment to drop a friend off somewhere two hours later, he said he wasn't going to sleeping yet anyways and if I didn't want to sleep either we could go for a drive. I agreed. In short, we spent the next few hours driving around town, talking, laughing, completely at ease with each other like old friends.

Its odd but I didn't feel like I was doing any thing crazy or risque. I know from past experience that my uninhibited behavior could have been misconstrued, he may have mistakenly assumed I was coming on to him, he may have considered me a social leech who just refused to go home for the night... or any number of other social faux pas. But he was there, driving, telling me about himself, listening while I talked, not irritated by my propensity to talk A LOT, and I don't think he looked all that uncomfortable either :D

Of course, all good things must end. We had exchanged phone numbers, he promised to call and make plans to meet up before he flew out of town. I assured him he didn't need to worry about it too much if he couldn't. We both knew we'd probably never meet up again. And I came home that morning feeling happy and light.

I would have said I think I made a friend. But since he never called back, for whatever reasons I care not, I shall leave it as a delightful night shared with an amiable stranger on the streets of LA. And look back at it with a smile.

Or has the world run out of things to say?

I feel all dried out ... like nothing is actually worth writing about any more ... Everything we dwell on is over hyped and exaggerated in the importance we give it.

Ah! Got it! I think I'm on my way to achieving Nirvana! ;)

PS: I'd ask if you agree but that would mean I care about what the world thinks ... so not Nirvana'isque! And of course the fact that not too many people read what I write anyways :D