In the 'second' year (fourth really) of my university life... she entered into my world as an objective. An objective that I am required to get hold of and achieve. Was that my only intention? Was she simply a target I should reach? What was I to do once I acquire my dream? Silly man... you didn't know the dream was a runaway...?
I had not really thought it over about what I would do once I became her boyfriend or how I would feel. Do I genuinely love her? Maybe not. Maybe I just felt it was right for us to be going out. Did she love me? Maybe not. She just felt it was right for us to be going out... Whatever she felt, I definitely had more feelings for her than she had for me.
It was just before the second year started that I felt like I really missed being with her. It was like a part of me was missing during the summer holidays and it would only return to me once the new academic year starts. For this, I impatiently waited, counting the days.
We met in the university restaurant. It was a brief encounter... we didn't talk to each other only exchanged a few emails over the holidays... it was a weird feeling, like suddenly meeting someone who you haven't seen for years. We glanced at each other, smiled and sat with our respective friends for lunch. Over the next few weeks, we slowly recovered our relationship to the point where we left off and then some. As I got closer and closer, more and more of her princess personality emerged. She was a lazy person at heart and even though she could force herself to be otherwise... her natural side was to order others to do stuff for her while she stayed put. So was her life at home as I mentioned before, she had been spoilt since childhood. Although for some people this would not be a problem, some guys like to service for their girlfriends... I, however, am not that type. You see, like her, in some ways, I have also been spoilt, although not to the same degree or extremity. I am unwilling to really sacrifice my time running backwards and forwards for someone... or so I thought.
Our relationship finally got to the point where I slept five days out of seven in her house (she rented one with three friends) on the floor, on a makeshift bed, next to hers. She would ask me to get into her bed at times to give her massages. It was after one of these massage sessions, sometime in October... I guess around 25th, that I finally got up the courage to ask her out. I, being someone who is quite unconventional, didn't really ask her as such. I was lying next to her in her bed and the dialogue went something like this:
Me: Hey, I can I ask you something?
She: Mmm... what is it?
Me: I want to do something with you...
She: ...what do you want to do?
Me: ...
She: ...
Me: It begins with a 'k'
She: 'K'? Is it kick? You want to kick me?
Me: -laugh- No... it's not that.
She: So what is it?
Me: ...
She: Hmmm?
Me: -sigh- Let me just show you...
We kissed for what seemed like hours...
The next morning, we kissed again... this time on my makeshift bed... we kissed until our jaws ached with joyful pain.
So it begins...
