"Give me a call tomorrow, I'm all yours."
It was three months ago that I last saw Gabe, tousled his hair, laughed at his jokes, playfully poked him about his age. Will he be different? Will I be different? Will our chemistry still exist? Did it ever REALLY exist or was it a figment of my imagination; several bourbons; colder weather; my loneliness?
Naturally, I felt nervous. But on Saturday night when I got his text saying:
"Give me a call tomorrow, I'm all yours."
that nervousness turned into excitement.
My lessons in chemistry over the past few months - with 1 Jack and 2 Brians - have been more confusing than my honors chemistry class junior year in high school.
I feel it, he doesn't; he feels it, I don't; we both feel it then man-boy screws it up and I feel annoyed.
Clearly I don't know anything about chemistry, love or dating (see every post on this blog) but I do know a few things: Gabe's text messages every 2 weeks while he was away always made me laugh. Gabe's call on the fourth of July while he drove back east made me smile. Yes, he called - via phone. Gabe's kisses and penchant for cuddling were things that I missed.
On Sunday afternoon I called Gabe - yes, via phone. He picked me up at my place wearing a dark blue t-shirt, tattered cargo shorts and - surprise - no facial hair! The creepy mustache I had seen on Facebook was gone but thankfully his floppy, thick full head of hair remained. Note to self: cannot wait to run my fingers through it.
Other note to self: calm down, sister. We pushed through awkward silences from opposite sides of my couch while dancing around banal questions like "what have you been up to for the past three months?". I listened more than talked and remembered that this very couch was where we made out the night we met. Except this time was different. It was daylight and we were sober.
We swam in the infamous Red Hook pool known less for the swimming and more for the amazingly-authentic central American food vendors across the street. We ate papusas and drank limeade. We floated, and joked, and laughed and occasionally touched in four feet of water. We got to know each other again as friends, while at the same time feeling like we have always known each other.
The day ended at my place with thai food, bad reality TV, and legs intertwined on that same couch. My roommate came home and the three of us chatted like Gabe and I were an old-time couple just living our Sunday night routine.
I don't have many regrets in life but on this particular day I do regret not kissing him. I thought about making the first move but this is something I'm not good at (keep in mind - we were sober.) What I am good at is thinking, thinking, over-thinking. I was waiting for him but was he waiting for me? One thing I don't have to think about is this:
I am comfortable around him.
I am myself.
I would like myself to be around his self more often.