True Dating Stories

Dice, The Next Generation
by Caterina Christakos


Have you ever been totally and completely in love? Love so intense that your hands shake, your heart pounds and you can feel cold sweat trickle from your armpits down your sides, as you pray that there are no accompanying odors? I have and for me it was like watching a really gory horror flick from between widely spread fingers. A part of me was completely repulsed yet at the same time felt compelled to follow it to it’s bloody end.

I met him freshman year of college. He was large - even then. Not in the Java the Hut, flesh rolling as he walked kind of way but in the six foot seven - and still growing, white version of a cross between Michael Jordan and Mohammad Ali. My five foot two, a hundred and ten pound frame was wobbling along, on crutches, carting two tons of books from the school bookstore, when our eyes met. My baby browns met his steel grey and two seconds later I was sprawled at his feet, books scattered or thrown into the campus lake, as I mumbled some inane reply, while he knelt to rectify some of the carnage.

Perhaps, if I had taken the prerequisite religion course or even been into the whole New Age, karma, crystal toting set, I might have taken this as a sign of things to come. Instead I invited him to my dorm room for a Coke, as a thank you for carting the remains the rest of the way. Even now I am amazed at how difficult it was for me to form coherent sentences - me with my motor mouth, that could turn tornadoes green with envy. Yet that was how it was for the first day and even the first month that we dated. But I get ahead of myself.

After agonizing minutes, where we stood shifting from foot to foot, attempting to think of something fascinating to say and ending up exchanging majors, he left. I did not see him again for several weeks, though I found myself scanning the campus for the sight of his tussled brown curls or at eye level his six pack of a stomach. I finally bumped into him in the cafeteria , with his buddies. This was right after I had just started and finished dating the first boy I had ever kissed. After that experience, I had just about decided to give up on the whole kissing institution. He was wet and sloppy and I always ended up wiping his saliva off of my chin- not that he noticed. Needless to say when my lakeside savior strode up to my table and asked me out, I was wary.

THE FIRST DATE Continued: Next Page

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