My first fake boyfriend…

Or, why I didn’t really date in college. (Or so I keep telling myself.)

So there was this boy. Let’s call him Skip. Skip and I met, through a friend, the end of our second year of college. I helped him and friend study for an exam and, to pay me back, Skip took me (and friend) to dinner. Thought nothing of it. (OMG I just realized I remember what I wore, where we went and what I ate…not surprising, as I’m OCD like that. But still.)

Fast forward to fall semester the next year. I’m sitting in the hallway, waiting for a discussion section to begin and he walks up. I kind of pretend not to recognize him. He’s in the same lecture class but not the same discussion section, yet he decides to join mine, anyway. From that moment on we are pretty much (to the dismay of many) BFF (but not to the point of me bailing on my girl friends. I will never be that girl). Not surprisingly, I develop a crush on my new friend. If I were smart, I would have seen this as a sign of things to come, as the inception of a trend in my life.

Despite some bad decisions on his part (ie hooking up with TheHo, my slutty horrible roommate of junior year who hooked up with every single male (and I am NOT exaggerating) who stepped foot into our home) and my own best judgment, I continued to allow this crush to grow (fester?). We spent all of our time together, even when he had girlfriends. His name was on our answering machine because he was always at our house. His girlfriends would call me looking for him. He gave me Christmas and Valentine’s Day presents that rivaled those he gave his actual girlfriend. We ate one, if not two, meals together a day. At least two of the girls he dated in college broke up with him because of me. Awesome.

For the most part, we didn’t really ever say anything about what was going on or how it might look. We never took it past the “friendship” that it was. But it was always there as an undercurrent, that elephant in the room.

He was confronted several times about the situation by caring friends (thanks, girls) who thought he was taking advantage of me and my time and my friendship. He always said he loved me but would never jeopardize what we had by dating me (now, in all my wisdom, I know this is “he’s just not that into you”). He even personally imparted that sentiment onto me, when I was bold enough (after several cocktails late one night) to bring up the subject (thanks to my good friend Dave Matthews and a strategically cued “Say Goodbye” on the CD player).

We continued this obviously dysfunctional and masochistic (at least on my end) relationship until graduation. I almost followed him to grad school, until my dad called me on it (way to be so astute, Dad). We’ve maintained our friendship through the years. Seven years after graduation, we still talk regularly.

He called the other day and said he was thinking about coming to my neck of the woods for Labor Day weekend. With the new girlfriend (who was barely in middle school, mind you, when he and I met). Is it bad that I’m kind of excited?