No. 27 | Sleeping with the Enemy

Third week of April 2017

Hey. It’s 10. Haha, I texted Kulas. This was all too familiar. I figured, minutes from now, I’m going to receive a text with an insincere apology for needing to reschedule, followed by an excuse that 1) tells me I wasn’t important enough to be on time for, and 2) defeats the purpose of the apology because the excuse was meant to make me feel inferior. Another fantasy I put so much thought into was about to be thrown out again, only this time, I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown for a night of doctor-patient role playing, I was in a cat onesie1 to pay tribute to the gravity of meow in our dramatic prelude to becoming boyfriends.

I should have double-booked him, I thought, and by double-booked, I meant scheduled a one night stand with the basketball player who had been flirting with me on Growlr for the last two weeks. It was a fleeting thought, however, because for the same amount of time, I couldn’t figure out how I was feeling about Kulas. I was happy being with him, and why shouldn’t I be? So far, he was everything I wished Walt was, minus the sex and the commitment, because as of that day, Kulas had failed to provide either of those things. On the flip side, those deficits made me question the shelf life of whatever we were doing.

I let my anger and frustration subside. Being late was forgivable, given the way I had been treated the first two dates. Besides, he also told me that he was doing something after school, so there was no definite time for his arrival; 10PM was just the earliest possible time. I also reminded myself that he wasn’t my boyfriend; even with his promise to come, he didn’t have to fulfill it. He wasn’t committed to me, and I wasn’t committed to him. We weren’t each other’s person, not yet at least, or maybe even never. If he decided that he wasn’t coming anymore, then he’s just another asshole that I couldn’t keep for more than two dates.

Except he wasn’t just another asshole that I couldn’t keep for more than two dates. At midnight, half-asleep from watching random TV shows on Netflix and waiting for his text to let me know that he was going to cancel, I received a call from Kulas. He was waiting for me at the lobby of my building.

Back in my bedroom, he apologized for his tardiness. He was part of his school’s Commission on Elections, and he had to deal with the drama of the majority of the student body voting abstain in all of the major positions. I was still too stunned by his arrival to let the details of his story sink in. He also got me chicken nuggets and an iced coffee to push that sorry in my heart.On top of that, he pulled out a white tiger keychain from his backpack, a gift to me from his trip to Korea. Why aren’t you my boyfriend yet? I thought to myself.

Prior to that night, I kept fantasizing that that would have been the night we would have sex for the first time. I already thought about writing this and the subsequent screenplay for it when my blog becomes famous enough to become a TV series that would be written, produced, and starred in by me. Lust for Life would have definitely been the soundtrack for when Kulas and I start to take each other’s clothes off, but something about him giving me chicken nuggets and seeing how sorry he was for being late replaced lust with emotion, the kind that made me lose my head and want to talk about my feelings yet again.

It was the same conversation we had at Tim Horton’s. The only difference was instead of me climbing back into my car to go home (hence, abruptly cutting the conversation early), we fell asleep, both of us in each other’s arms.

We didn’t actually sleep for very long. At around 3AM, he woke me up with a kiss that led to doing the same things we did during our first date.3 We only stopped when the sun came up, which was also my signal to shower. I did have a date with Astrid later that morning.

“So… how did it go?” Astrid asked while we were having lunch at Din Tai Fung on High Street.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” I said while unbuttoning the first two buttons of my shirt to reveal the map of hickeys Kulas made on my neck just a few hours before getting into Astrid’s car.

“Did you…?”

“We didn’t, but that’s not the point. I think I want to fight for him,” and by fight for him, I meant to fight for him to become my boyfriend.

  1. Yes, it’s the same onesie from the night I got stoned with Josh.
  2. As of today, Kulas has been the only guy I’ve dated who has bought me food. Sure, Nory paid for lunch when we went out, but that doesn’t count because he was married!
  3. Making out + oral + random bear hugs in between gasps for breath.

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