When one thing ends...
The university police showed up and gave me a warning. They decided I’d be ok to sleep it off in my bed that night and not go to the hospital.
The next day, my resident advisor told me that a letter would have to be sent to my parents to inform them. Somehow, I managed to convince him of my utter peril if my parents ever got that letter, and he had mercy on me and did not send it.
After crash course 101 my first weekend at college, I was determined to have a better week. It definitely started better, because A finally called. His roommates were going to a comedy club in Memphis that weekend and he wanted me to go too. I excitedly said yes. We talked on and off through the week that week.
Friday came, and I waited anxiously to hear from A. He called about an hour before we were scheduled to leave and said they had decided not to go. He had every intention to cancel altogether, for he didn’t expect me to want to have a night in with him, his roommates and a couple friends. But after a short discussion, we decided to give it a shot anyway.
He came to my dorm and we went back to his townhome. I still don’t remember exactly how many people were there, but it was somewhere around 5-7. I couldn’t tell you what movie we watched that night, or even the names of anyone there, save one. This was the night I met Q, though at the time it meant nothing to me. But it would.
A and I were inseparable from that day forward. Looking back, I’m amazed he put up with me at all. We made great friends, but he was much slower at opening up than I would’ve liked, and it made my insecurities even worse. The fact that he worked evenings at one of the sorority houses did NOT help. When he wasn’t out of there on exactly the minute he should be, I would start imagining that he was hooking up with one of them, no matter how many times he told me he didn’t like sorority girls.
Somehow we managed to stay together for the better part of two months...until one weekend things got a little steamy, and I pushed him to go further than either of us ever had before- a decision that would haunt me for years to come until I got the chance to apologize several years later.
The next day he decided that things were progressing way too quickly, and he needed to focus on his senior year. His roommates were also getting sick of how often I was there. So we split, no matter how I fought it. I think the rejection bothered me the most, because we weren’t in love by any means. But I’m sure I over dramatized it the next few days. I always seemed to romanticize unrequited love.
Then one day a few days later, I was sitting outside of my dorm, watching everyone decorate homecoming banners, and who should come walking by? Q was headed back to his car from class, and just happened to park not far from my dorm. I barely remembered him, but he remembered me and said hi...