Not every relationship starts out as the usual scene on TV: Person A invites Person B to some sort of food date, and then they talk a lot and get to know each other more closely. Then at the end of the food date Person A asks out Person B, and some sort of PDA shows up on the screen (which results in me turning off the TV or turning away to get food/use the bathroom/etc.). Sometimes there’s Sebalter, whose character walks off on the food date after writing “you are terrific” (or some cheesy pickup line) on the back of the bill. Or sometimes there’s my situation.
For starters, I’m a really awkward person who sometimes talks in the wrong language and doesn’t know how to accept compliments. Add on that I didn’t have a good track record, so the only thing I was prepared for was any possible relationship to fail in 2 days. And of course there’s the ace factor.
After deciding that the ace label fit me (and a high school friend going “OMG I KNEW IT” after I had texted him at 2 AM), I casually mentioned it to my group of friends at uni who seemed fine with it. For the next few days, one of the people in the group, L, decided to stalk follow me to the canteen, walk in without paying, and sit next to me watching me eat. I kept asking him why he followed me, and he would just ask, “What, I can’t do that?” It would just turn into an awkward conversation about something random, like why I mixed mashed potatoes, salad greens, and canteen gumbo in the same bowl like it was instant concrete, or trying to get a non-sarcastic answer about barefooting. I had a gut feeling of what might happen (after thinking about our interactions with the rest of the group) but held it back in case L was actually a creeper.
The 3rd time got a little less creepy, as the dinner conversation evolved into a discussion over asexuality (or at least what I knew off of Tumblr) I kept thinking in my head, If you’re going to say it, you better know this, because I don’t want a relationship where it’s nothing but shoving your throat down my throat in the back of a shady car. No plumbing involved, please…
It still ended with , “Why did you follow me here?” and “What, I can’t do that?”
At least that was what he said inside the canteen. When we left, L turned around and confirmed my gut feeling: “Look, I followed you because I wanted to ask you out, okay?”
I didn’t know how to respond at the time. “Give me 24 hours to think about it.”
“Is that saying no?”
“No, that just means I need time to think it through.”
22 hours later, the answer was yes.