Dante

This one is kind of a hard one to recount.

Like Gregory, I fell pretty hard for Dante. Unlike Gregory, it took a long time and I kind of did it on purpose because I thought it would be worth it. I was wrong.

I met Dante when I was 15. I can actually remember our very first encounter, though it is nearing ten years since then. I can remember where I was standing and the notebook that I was holding. I can also remember a lot of what I was thinking. Well, the reason I can remember that, I suppose, is because it basically consisted of "he is hot, he is hot, holy shit this guy is hot." He was also 22. Of course, I had a crush on him immediately. Obviously. I was 15.

Dante became friends with my older siblings, and, but extension, me. We weren't great friends, though, for a few years. I can't recall how exactly this occurred, but I do know that at some point I became better friends with him than my older siblings. It was a little weird.

When I started college, I started getting closer to Dante. I think the reason for this was because I lived far away from my family, and he lived closer than they did. He visited me a couple times my first couple of years. We would play some tennis and chill. It was good.

Until the summer before my Junior year. I was visiting home at the same time he was visiting his old friends in MN.

Ugh, I remember this so clearly. Sometimes I hate my vivid memories, because some of them really hurt.

One night, I was at an event with so many people that we both knew. Dante was there, but he was planning to leave right after to see some other friends before his early trip in the morning. I left the event and went to sit outside by myself. Dante found me before he left, and I was sitting and crying to myself. I was sad that he was leaving, sure, but I was really sad that I was leaving so soon. I was going to miss everyone so much. We talked about it for a while, he gave me a big hug and helped me to feel better. And then he said something about me being like his little sister.

Now wait. Hold on a second there, Dante. I'm your little sister? I don't think so.

This is when it clicked for me. I was not Dante's little sister. No, sir.

I texted him later that night, saying I wanted to talk with him about something, so he called the next day on his long drive. The gist of our conversation was this:

Me: When you said I was like your little sister, it made something clear to me. You have allowed me to get close to you because you think it's safe, but it's not safe for me. I feel like my attraction to you makes this not a good plan.

Him: Yeah, well, I pretty much said that to try to be safe. I feel like I am attracted to you as well.

[Long silences, really long ones]

Me: So I guess we're just going to have to be careful, then, huh?

Him: Yeah, seems that way.

I swear, we were playing a game of chicken. Were we going to keep at this course until we said something we couldn't take back? I swerved first.

So, we were careful. Sort of. Or not at all.