I may have misjudged someone. No, not Reefer Madness. He's still douching it up.
There's this guy I've hung out with a few times since I moved here. Let's call him "Cindy Kim" for reasons that may become clear to any Harold and Kumar fans out there. I didn't initially realize that this person and I were spending time together in a dating sense because we are different religions (read: he is one and I'm not), and it was my understanding from our mutual close friend that he only dates women who share his religious background. Recently, I started to question whether the information I got from our friend about Cindy Kim was accurate because he started saying some things about how we were on dates, had been on previous dates, and so forth. During the "date" when I started to catch the snap, Cindy Kim used his professional knowledge to make an observation about my skin that I didn't care for, and I basically vowed never to talk to him again.
Cindy Kim is, on paper, a perfect boyfriend candidate. He's attractive, well-educated, relatively clean, and poised for great professional success. He's also a genuinely nice person who just happens to stick his foot in his mouth once in awhile (who doesn't?). I didn't think I was interested in him in that way, but I figured I would probably end up marrying him whether I liked it or not.
He sent me a few very nice emails while I was studying for a big test in February that, in spite of my efforts to maintain my steely resolve, charmed me. My frostiness melted tinily.
Tonight, he called me. I hadn't heard from him in awhile, and we hadn't (and still haven't) gotten together since the big skin remark debacle, and I admit I screened his call. I wasn't going to call him back until tomorrow, but I was bored and slightly curious to hear what he might have to say. We ended up talking for almost an hour, and I really enjoyed speaking with him. There was a good mix of substantive conversation and flirting. Perhaps most tellingly, when he told me he probably wouldn't be able to get together to see me again until May, I was damned disappointed. I was surprised by how disappointed I felt -- and that I felt disappointed at all -- considering that I had screened his call in the first place.
What is happening here? Maybe I'm just tired or over- or under-caffeinated, but I am feeling like up is down, black is white, and my Cindy Kim might be becoming my Maria Quesa Dilla.
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