ToThat Perfectly Nice Young Man,

Is it wrong that I care what you think of me? You were only a mere blip on my radar; A few casual drunken meetings, a one night stand and a cup of coffee. There were a few electronic exchanges, but that’s it, and that’s all it ever will be. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will likely never see you again, although I hope I’m wrong. At the same time, I don’t know what I would even say to you if I saw you. Mostly because I fear I didn’t leave a good impression on you at the end. I have to admit, you kind of intimidated me. You seemed so smart, well traveled, experienced, and damn it you enjoyed studying genetics! I loved hearing you talk – both the content, and your voice (that subtle accent, it did it for me!). You were the embodiment of a ‘perfectly nice young man’, and I hadn’t met one of those in a long time. You had prospects and plans, and goals…You didn’t talk bullshit! You were interesting! I was thrilled that someone like you would even want to be near me.

ME.

I was such a mess. Seeing you in all your polished, practical glory I felt so naïve, and ignorant. Directionless. Stupid. Insecure. I wanted to dazzle you with brilliance, or make you laugh, or even just show you that I was a nice, normal girl. I wanted to get to know you. I didn’t want you to be my lover, but I wanted oh so badly for you to like me. To respect me.

That night. That one night we had…it was alcohol fueled, and awkward and somewhat embarrassing in retrospect. If I didn’t find it so crude I would have asked you for a ‘do over’ the next time we met (funny in a way), but somehow I didn’t feel right proposing such a thing to you. Maybe it was the fact we were in a coffee place surrounded by octogenarians and students, or maybe I just preferred the conversation we were having, or maybe I thought it crass and undignified to talk about awkward one nighters with a ‘perfectly nice young man’ - but asking if you were interested in such an arrangement was out of the question. Even if a second tryst may have proven somewhat more satisfying then the first.

I hope you don’t think ill of me. I know I can be awkward, and neurotic, but I am otherwise a good person. I hope that one day I’ll be able to re-deem myself, that is, if there is anything to re-deem. Until then I will have to accept the harsh possibility that you may think badly of me, or worse - that you don't think of me at all.....