I never got that phone call, just as I assumed, but at the moment I couldn't care less.
I cannot express with words how grateful I am. Grateful that I have someone to talk about anything, be it relationships or school or sex. To ask questions, no matter how stupid or trivial they would sound to me, without the fear of being laughed at or judged or rejected. I am so grateful it makes me cry at times, cry out of joy. Despite how bad a day or how miserable the feeling, the mere memory of her laughter or voice or scent makes me smile. Thank you, Wanderer, thank you for making me forget, even for a little while, that I don't really deserve your kindness and affection (I sounded like a caterpillar again, didn't I?).
The reason why I'm feeling this particularly strongly today is because I didn't know who else to ask that somewhat ridiculous question. And she spoke with me about it without making fun of me, not once, even though I felt so stupid to ask something like that.
A little background information: some time earlier this year I was (surprisingly enough) in the IT class one evening. There was this guy who had some trouble with the printer. We tried to figure it out (poorly, I might add) and spoke a little in the process. Anyway, ever since we've said hello when passing each other in the hallway or when we happen to be in the IT class at the same time. Today this happened again, only this time he came to talk to me. First it was just general small talk and then he asked my name and email address and he gave me his. At some point he also asked if I was married (???). Now, even if some of you may frown upon this, I googled him. Only one hit and it was some kind of a Christian site that had listed him (or his namesake, albeit I doubt that) as a new member. So, since this was a completely new situation to me and didn't know (or even have a slightest clue what to do) I went to ask an advice from the only person who I knew wouldn't laugh at me when hearing the probably peculiar problem, Wanderer. After all, I’ve never been the object of anyone’s interest (or maybe once, although it took me four years to even think of the mere possibility of such a thing…).
How the hell am I going to survive next year when she will no longer be there and my place in the department will be torn asunder (there's going to be some kind of a rebuild thing due to the asbest problem in the building)?
