EPTI met her three years ago when we started law school. I took a liking to her almost immediately. She was in my section and we became good friends. I believe that our personalities are very similar, but I don’t know if she feels the same way. The more I got to know her, the more attractive she became. She embodied everything I wanted in a woman. She was perfect in every way, she could do no wrong, and I worshipped her as a goddess.
Maybe she was out of my league from the beginning. A deep, unrequited infatuation was all it was; it would do no favours for my mental health, and only likely lead to heartbreak. Yet I continued to harbour hope that our friendship could grow into something more.
She was a superstar at school and enjoyed significant success and recognition. I once considered myself quite competent at school, but in this modified format (which I have considerable grievances with) I was unable to stand out. I began to feel insecure in terms of not being able to measure up to her success. Last week she was accepted to one of the most prestigious positions in the country for someone at this stage of their career. I am very proud of her, but it only reinforces my apprehensions of my inferiority.
I made a cautious attempt at asking her out during the first winter break to test the waters. It did not seem to be met with sufficient interest, and I gave up for the time being. The rest of my law school experience passed by without much development on this romantic front. We were both part of the same circle of friends and had some great times together on camping trips, ski trips, parties, and the like. I learned she had a boyfriend, and I met him a couple of times at some of gatherings. Their relationship was not steady, and I sensed I still had an opportunity. He was a decent guy, but nothing particularly special. I thought to myself that if he could win her over, so could I.
Yesterday we had our formal for the graduating class. I suspected that my chances to see her after our graduation would be significantly less. I decided that I would ask her one more time at the formal whether she had any interest in me. I had a little to lose but so much to potentially gain. I had to erase all doubts that I may have missed any opportunities with this amazing girl.
As part of my regular exercise/workout routine, I jump and try to touch the ceiling in my basement. The height of the ceiling is right at the limit of my jumping range so that I am not able to consistently touch it. One night I was jumping and was struggling to reach it. I was playing this song + Show Spoiler +
Touching the ceiling only meant that my pick up attempt had a greater-than-zero chance of success, not that it would necessarily succeed. My barely-qualifying jump reflected my own expectations that my chance of success with the girl was uncomfortably low. I estimated it at 15% based on my reading of her body language and social cues in our interactions. The chances were not great, but I hoped that I either misread her signals, or she was disguising her own intentions for whatever reason.
The formal was yesterday evening. She arrived before I did, looking as beautiful as I had ever seen her. She was not with her boyfriend. Though I knew she would be coming single, I had not asked about her relationship status, and suspected (and hoped) that they were not currently together. Our group of friends had booked two tables, and the initial plan was that we would be at different tables. However, because a large number of them were arriving together quite late, I began the evening sitting right beside her. By chance, we were both wearing outfits with complementary red accents. Others complimented us on our match, which I had not noticed myself. It looked like the night was off to a nearly perfect start.
After the arrival of the rest of the group, the immediate plan was to keep the present seating and let those who had already settled down to stay where they were. However, one person needed to change tables to accommodate a couple sitting together, and I was the logical choice. So I ended up eating dinner at the other table. The minor setback wasn’t a big deal because I knew dinner would only occupy a small fraction of the rest of the evening.
The night was enjoyable overall, with the popular open bar lubricating people’s tongues for easy conversation. I made the most of it, but did not get too drunk. I felt the intoxicating high, and my inhibitions may have been lowered somewhat. I ended up on the dance floor with the girl in a group. The group slowly dispersed and only the two of us remained. She indicated that she wanted to get a cup of water to drink.
“I’m thirsty, I’m going to get a glass of water from the bar.”
“Actually that sounds good, I think I’ll have some water too. I’ll go with you.”
We headed over and waited to get the bartender’s attention. He turned to me first. I asked for two cups of water, and handed her one.
I took a deep breath. Okay. This was the perfect opportunity. I had rehearsed this scenario in my head and was just hoping that I would somehow get the chance. Here it was.
“Are you still together with (name)?”
“No, we broke up in November.” Delicious. + Show Spoiler +
“So does that mean you’re single now?”
“Yeah.” Oh my god. Here it comes.
A slight pause. Another slight pause. I wouldn’t let a third continuous slight pause wedge itself into this conversation. If I were to chicken out, it would be at this moment. I’d done it before. Not this time. Apparently I was not quite drunk enough to make this much easier. The words finally tumbled out.
“So does that mean this is my chance?”
“Sorry, what?” She sounded completely surprised.
I repeated myself.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
The surroundings were noisy, but I couldn’t tell if it was the unexpectedness of my proposition or my unclear delivery that was causing the difficulty. Probably both, though I think the former may have had a larger role given that our conversation up until then had been perfectly audible.
“Does that mean this is my chance?”
She made a slight pause of her own, then replied, “Well, I think I will be staying single for now.”
And it was done. Mission complete. Regardless of her response and the result, I had done my duty to erase any lingering doubt. My 15% estimate was struck out and replaced with a 0.5% field measurement (to account for temporary insanity, a potential change of heart in the near future, or a fault in the data collection methodology).
I nodded. We stood in silence for a moment. I glanced at her face, which might have shown an odd expression of bemused puzzlement behind a glazed, lightly inebriated smile. She was making no effort to relocate, and neither was I. I was the first to break the silence with some small talk on totally unrelated matters. I suppose I was mentally prepared for the rejection. My behavioural observations and reading of others tended to be reasonably accurate.
I actually don’t remember how we broke up our short rendezvous after that. In total, we were actually there at the side of the bar, alone, for a decent amount of time. At the end of the night, when the venue was closing down the party, she left for someone’s house party, I don’t know who. I went to someone else’s place for a while too, but it was very quiet and uneventful.
My romantic relationships continue to be limited to one-sided infatuations. I know it’s not healthy or advisable, but it’s all I can muster. Hopefully I can get some more positive results in the future. I’ve grown accustomed to misery – one could even say I’ve begun to enjoy it. At least my deep crushes have been limited to a select few individuals, but that only makes the fall to reality all the harder. Only the very best will do for me. But for now, it looks like that I am not the best for anyone else.
