Stacy

Stacy...Um I dont't even know how to start this post, but I feel it's essential to understanding my stories.

So I met Stacy, technically, about 4 years ago. At the time, I was "talking" to a mutual friend named Bruce. So me and Bruce just chilled sometime, he wasn't anyone too special but a member of the fraternity my chapter was friendly with in college. I was a Junior at the time...  Ummm Maybe a fourth year Junior.

One night I went out with my friends to nice club around the way. It was cool, good music and such, but around midnight I was hungry and bored. So I told my friends I was leaving and caught a cab to Adams Morgan  to go to my favorite diner. I knew Bruce hung out in Adam's Morgan a lot so I texted him to see if he was there. Sure enought, he was in a bar just across the street. After I got my patty melt to go, I went across the street to meet him... and that's too where I met Stacy for the first time.

Now I don't really remember my first impression of Stacy, but I did remember him and that's more than I could say about him.

I think we spoke briefly, then rode by his house while Bruce dropped him and his roommate off and that was the last of that.

I seen him again at a club maybe about 6 months later and I hadn’t seen him since then until a couple months after I moved back to DC. I was at a lounge feeling great when I first saw Michael, a guy that was close friends to another guy I went out with when I was in college (it’s kinda ridiculous how small the degree of separation is in DC) and spoke to said to hello to him. He was with Stacy of all people, and I was so surprised to see him that I couldn’t help but to start a conversation.

Looking back on it, it was shameful how much information I knew about Stacy without really “knowing” him. I knew his full name, what department he was in at college, what major he was, where he was from, and also that he had recently finished grad school. I don’t know why I remembered these things… I’m usually not the type to keep up with people like that… but from FB and those brief meetings, he always stuck with me.

While we were talking, he definitely seemed nice enough; polite, cordial and such. I asked him if he was still in school, where he worked, and the same ole’ run around. Eventually we exchanged numbers and a few weeks later we met for happy hour.

Our meeting for happy hour was really nice, besides being sick and only being able to hear out of one ear, we had a nice chat and he was pretty easy going. Later, I found out that when he saw me at the lounge he had no idea who I was and it was so weird that I knew so much about him and he knew nothing about me. In the lounge it was so loud that he couldn’t even catch my name—and didn’t find it out until looking at my license when I offered it to the waitress while ordering a drink. Basically he went on a date with me without even knowing my name.

The next several weeks Stacy and I continued to go out and get to know each other. It was so easy going and comfortable with him that I started to like him and everyone else fell by the waist side.  When he took Christmas break off to visit home and I missed him it occurred to me that I liked him more than I thought I did.

So these days... I love Stacy. I think about him all the time. Everyday. What's he doing? what's he thinking about? is he thinking about me?

Does he really love me? This is the real question I suppose.

Sometimes the question makes me wonder what love really is. Maybe neither one of us even know what love really is.

ummmm....