Boys are weird. I didn’t have my first kiss till I was super old and I didn’t have my first boyfriend till I was even older. I like to blame it on the fact that I moved so often and no boy ever got to know “the real me,” but I know for a fact it was because I was brutally shy and awkward and didn’t know why any boy would ever want to be with me.

But, I can now confidently say that I’ve moved past the days where I was literally unable to even speak to a boy that I thought was remotely cute. Like even a simple “hello” was too difficult to muster out. In high school I would take a different route around the building so I wouldn't run into my crush because I was literally afraid of him. But, in honor of my awkward boy days I’ve decided I want to tell the story of how my boyfriend I met.

So here it goes…

In February of this past year I was broken up with. It wasn’t a bad breakup but the guy I was dating told me that he didn’t see us getting married and therefore didn’t want to date any more. At first I was confused because, one, why would anyone ever want to break up with me (kidding) and two, we were dating for like four months so why was he even thinking about marriage? To be honest, we should have been friends the whole time, but those are the kind of things you only learn in hindsight, cause it's 20/20 you know.

Anyways, I had never been broken up with before that so my confidence was definitely bumped down a few levels. In order to gain my confidence back, all my friends suggested I download Tinder just for the heck of it. Obviously, I had nothing to lose at this point so I went to the app store, downloaded that pesky app, uploaded some photos, and made my bio a Dwight Schrute quote; “How would I describe myself? Three words: hardworking, alpha male, jackhammer, merciless, insatiable,” to be exact. Looking back, that probably made me seem like a grade A weirdo to pretty much everyone but again, hindsight is 20/20.

I had a few matches here and there, a few tried and true office fans message me, but nothing crazy. Then one day, I got a message along the lines of, “I hate the office.” And I was enthralled. I responded, “I know you’re lying because if you hated it you wouldn't know my bio was an office quote.” And those were the two messages that made us fall head over heels for each other.

Hah, kidding. Super kidding.

So anyways, we messaged back and forth for a while and then decided that we wanted to meet in real life.

Which is terrifying.

First thing that I was worried about was that I was getting catfished by a freaking murderer, second fear was “what if he thinks I’m cat fishing him and I’m not, but like my pictures, what if I don’t actually look like my pictures and he thinks I'm cat fishing him because I'm 20 times uglier in real life.”

I guess I wasn’t too scared though, because we decided to meet at a bar, which was my idea, and here’s why. One, I could go with my friends. Two, it was a very public space. And three, if he was weird or creepy or anything I could just run away or hide in the bathroom and he wouldn't notice too much.

To be completely honest, I had never been more nervous to go to a bar in my entire life. I was worried I didn’t look like how I looked on Tinder, and I was worried he was going to be a murderer. Which are basically the two scariest things in a college girl’s life, not to be dramatic, but I was a panicked mess.

I remember getting to the bar earlier than we had decided because I wanted to be the first to see him and gage the whole murderer thing. And I remember seeing him. He was for sure the tallest guy there and for sure cuter than he looked on Tinder, which freaked me out even more. I felt like I was back in high school scared to death to walk into Spanish class because my perfect crush would be in there. How could I be in the presence of someone so perfectly cute, huh?????? Since I saw him, I obviously couldn’t just walk up and say hello because that’s weird and forward (not sure why I was so afraid of saying hi, but I was, back to the hindsight thing) so I waited until he texted me asking where I was, “by the DJ, obviously!! Where are you?”

“By the ping pong dispenser,” he nonchalantly responded. I played dumb, didn’t respond and then I looked over and saw him walking towards me. My first thought, “Do I wave? Do I walk up to him and say hi? Do I run away?” But then he was the brave one and said, “You must be Chloe.”

And the rest is history. Hah, kidding again.

I’ve decided while writing this that it’s going to be too long to fit into one post so I’ve decided to make it a little chapter story type thing.

Check back soon to see how this whole first interaction went.

Life is fucking weird. Mom, if you’re reading this: one, I’m sorry for saying the word “fucking” and two, well, that’s really all.

Moving on. Life is fucking weird. And not in the way that we eat plants and call it salad. Or that in America we walk / drive on the right side and in London they do it on the left. Well, now that I’m thinking about it, that’s pretty weird too. But, I’m talking about the kind of weird that is inside our minds. Us humans are weird. I’m weird. And since I know myself best I’m going to talk about myself and maybe if we’re lucky it’ll apply to you too, because apparently, in the blogging world at least, that’s the kind of content people like.

I’m weird. I just took a shower and realized how weird I am. Why did I realize this in the shower? Because the shower is the place I think the most. I think, mentally, I get my most deep and philosophical in the shower. What did I learn just now? I’m a huge contradiction. I change a lot, year to year, month to month, day to day, and even hour to hour I feel like I am ever changing. As I was showering I realized how many internal thoughts I have that I never share, but I also talk a lot. That’s a contradiction in itself, isn’t it? If I have a lot of internal thoughts, but also talk a lot, what am I even talking about? Nothing interesting, probably.

Internal thoughts are weird. I’m not sure if anyone is actually reading this, does anyone care about me enough to actually read this website on the internet? I don’t know and I don’t care, the reason I write on here is because I like to look back through my posts and see what I was thinking. So here’s what I’m thinking right now:

I’m tired but not tired enough to take a nap because I just drank a lot of coffee because I have work in an hour and then I’m driving down to my boyfriend’s home home which is like an hour away.

I wish I was a better writer because when I started this blog post I had a lot to say and now as I’m writing I don't think any of this makes sense or flows or anything. Which defeats the whole purpose of the post in general because I was just writing about how I talk a lot and have a lot of thoughts… another contradiction?

I’m currently laying (lying? idk) on my bed in a robe with soaking wet hair wondering where on Earth I thought this post was going.

I just re-read this post and it makes absolutely no sense but I love it.

I’m now ending this blog post.

zach. chapter 1.

idk what anything means

Powered by Squarespace