Cuddled up on the couch, we watched a movie all night long as if it were the most normal thing in the world. It was the kind of night that makes you think, “Okay, this is definitely going somewhere.” It felt warm and lovely.
I walked him out, leaned in, and attempted to give him a farewell kiss when it was time for him to go.
And he… sidestepped it.
Like, completely retracted, muttered something ungainly, and climbed into his vehicle. He drove away as if nothing had happened a few seconds later.
I was momentarily stunned as I stood there. Then, feeling ashamed and angry, I went back to my room and kept asking myself, “Did I just misread everything?”To be honest, I was ready to go to bed and spend the rest of the night pouting.
Then, ten minutes later, my phone starts buzzing.
“Can you come outside?” he texts. I must speak.
I leave, perplexed. and he exclaims, completely taken aback: “Wait—were you attempting to kiss me? Is that a sign that you like me?
Apparently, he thought I had been giving him conflicting signals about whether or not I loved him, so when he left, he drove about in a complete panic, contacted his friend, and attempted to figure out what had occurred. He departed the scene, spoke with a friend as like it were an emergency, and then returned to confirm the obvious rather than simply asking me like a normal person would.
To be honest? To be clear, I wasn’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or give him another kiss.
