Hallway Boy

As much as I wanted him to be, he just wasn’t the guy for me. But god, could he make me laugh. We had a great time, Hallway Boy and I. We met in the hallway of our office building, several times bumping into each other on the way to lunch, the restroom, Starbucks, or home for the day. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident, so together. He had such a great energy about him, and he was just soooo cute.

When he finally asked me out, I went straight weak in the knees: “So, I’m sure you must have guys lined up around the block to date you, but I’d like to get in that line.” I mean, whoa! That is ballsy and forward, and I loved it.

I responded in kind, “you just moved to the front of that line.”

We had lunch together the next day, dinner together the night after that, and for the next several months had lunch together almost every day, dinner together several nights per week, and even spent a week in paradise together. Even during the height of my campaign responsibilities, making time for him was easy. I so enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, laughing with him. I had such a great time with hallway boy that I overlooked red flags, and ignored the glaring reality that he wasn’t the one for me.

Little things they seemed at the time. Huge things in retrospect. I couldn’t sleep with him. I mean, I could fall asleep with him, but couldn’t stay asleep. He is a quiet sleeper, doesn’t snore, stays to his side of the bed, and makes it easy to share sleepy time. But I could never get comfortable enough. And that comfort wasn’t just with sleep. I never opened up to him completely. A silent barrier always existed between the two of us, and I do not typically build walls between myself and other people, because I so revel in developing strong emotional bonds with the people I love. But with Hallway Boy, I could never let go. I couldn’t let him in, I couldn’t really open myself up to experiencing deep bonds of intimacy with him. In fact, he probably knows very little about me, despite the months we spent together, because I never really felt he deserved access to my most vulnerable me. And he didn’t.

In the months since our split, he has continually proven just how unworthy he is. He is, in a word, an asshole. And in dating him, I learned that I can’t be true to myself, have the relationship I want (with myself, as well as with others) if I ignore the hairs standing on the back of my neck. I am grateful that I possess strong intuition, in this case intuition so powerful that it built a wall between myself and a man undeserving, and I promise myself to defer to my intuition going forward, regardless of how cute, funny, or seemingly confident a boy may seem.

He is, in the words of my brilliant friend hot ass d.f.m., "all teeth and no substance".

The end.