Nerd Girl(14)

That didn’t stop me from thinking about Ryan and our surprising dinner together. I replayed the evening over and over in my head. I was perplexed by his behavior at the end of the night; I really thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me, but when he left me standing by my car without any mention of wanting to see me again, the reality of it was that I was relieved. My ego was too fragile to consider opening up my heart again for any new possibilities. Frankly, it was better that he walked away. I felt better wondering what could have been rather than risking more rejection and heartbreak. Even so, my mind was in conflict with my emotions. All I could think about was how I might be able to see him again—run into him at work, at Betty’s, maybe accidentally bump into his car …

I couldn’t deny the chemistry that existed between us. I couldn’t recall ever having experienced the same initial connection and intensity level with any of my past boyfriends, but I didn’t have the emotional energy to get excited and disappointed again so soon. When it came to long-term relationships, I had discovered a reoccurring pattern. If I was in love with the guy, eventually he always ended up wanting someone else. History had a way of repeating itself.

Case #1: Matt. During my senior year at the UW, I fell head over heels in love with Matt, a 4.0 Computer Science major. I’d always been attracted to very smart men. He was skinny and gawky and dressed in very loud prints, but he had the most angelic face and was always so eager to make me happy. I thought he was both brilliant and adorable. We couldn’t get enough of each other and the sex was fantastic. It surprised me that he was such a brilliant computer programmer and yet so good in bed. You had to wonder then about Bill Gates and other self-proclaimed geeks. You’d never expect to find those two qualities in the same person.

Matt and I had the most intense relationship for six months. When summer came, he left to San Jose for an internship in the Silicon Valley. We both cried at the airport. Upon visiting him later that summer, he told me that he had met someone else. She was one of several co-interns working in the same department. One night they were giving backrubs and it went further than they planned or some crap. He wanted to satisfy his curiosity and see where it could go. He was sorry and wished me the best. Why he didn’t tell me this before I got on the plane to visit him in San Jose, I had no idea. I learned several years later that they had gotten married; his summer fling became the one.

At the time, I was heartbroken over Matt. Though to be honest, I don’t think I loved him in the deep, truest sense. I think I was just overly dramatic because that’s what you do when you’re twenty-two years old. A bitter little seed was planted that summer. I vowed that I would never cheat on someone, ever. I would never make someone feel the way that Matt made me feel that summer night.

Case #2: A couple years later, I met Jake. Jake wasn’t what I would call a long-term relationship. I only mention him now because he made me realize what kind of relationship I didn’t want. Jake was a good Christian boy, Engineering major, and a recent MBA graduate from the UW business school. He had just started a promising career at MS. He had dark brown hair, beautiful green eyes, and always furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t obviously good looking, but he had an intensity and soulfulness about him. I thought he was incredibly sexy, brooding, and intelligent. The most memorable thing about him was our amazing physical chemistry—every time I was with him, I thought I would combust into flames.

He was twenty-nine at the time, I was twenty-five. Before meeting me, he had been dating this girl, Melissa, for a couple of years. They had met at the UW MBA program. On paper, they were perfect for each other. They had so much in common; both loved to bike ride, hike, enjoyed the same music and shared the same friends from grad school. After dating all through grad school, she was ready to marry him. Unfortunately for both of them, he didn’t feel any passion for her. She didn’t make his heart race or his skin tingle or his breath hitch. Then he met me.

We met at church, innocently enough. I went to church quite regularly in my early twenties. Admittedly, part of it was an effort to meet men with similar values. I prayed to God to deliver me the perfect man who would support my professional ambitions, give me beautiful children, and of course, marry me. I thought Jake was the answer to my prayers. After all, I met him in the house of God, right? Ironically, Jake and I never actually had sex. We just did everything else you could do, but not “the deed.” I reached a whole new level of appreciation for oral sex and if that was any sign of what was to come, I was all for going all the way with him. Unfortunately, other than the great physical chemistry, we had very little in common.