My So Called Life moment

So I recently had what I like to call a "My So Called Life Moment."

I had been dating this boy, we'll call him Hans. Hans and I had been having fun. We'd also been having bad sex. But sometimes that takes time. I enjoyed sleeping in the same bed with him. I liked biking around town, smoking cigarettes, and getting drunk with him.

Hans and I had talked about previous relationships--his ex boyfriend, whom we'll call Manuel, was a manipulative asshole, emotionally-abusive, and a jerk and Hans was glad he broke up with him a year ago.

At a party the other night at the filthy duplex he shared with two trans men (who, due to huge injections of testosterone, were going through a boyhood adolescence which meant that it was okay to stash your boxers in the dog's dish, pile up pizza boxes to the ceiling, collect mountains of empty PBR cans, and not clean up after the dog ripped the stuffing out of your couch), I was sitting out on the deck, sipping some cheap beer and feeling bored.

I decided to say goodnight to Hans and take my leave.

He was in the kitchen; his back was toward me.

As I approached him, hands outstretched, ready to grab his wool sweater and his love handles and give him a surprise peck, I heard a friend ask him, "So, Hans, what's up with you and Manuel? Are you two getting back together?" Hans replied, "Well, we're in the process of it, but it's complicated."

I froze. And felt like Angela. I backed away. I told Hans I was leaving. He agreed to walk me out.

Alone together in the dark outside his building, I said, "Hey, Hans, I couldn't help but overhear you in the kitchen--are you getting back together with your ex?"

His answer disappointed me. "Yeah, but it's a long way off."

Okay, I said, let me know when you figure that out. I kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

It's funny--within twenty feet I was totally over him.

Funny how that happens.