I will admit that I enjoyed Clueless…

…but only as an observer with popcorn and Diet Coke. So, when I find myself “like, totally buggin’”, the blow-up castle has seriously deflated. Okay, maybe not deflated, but I am really beginning to question whether Transformer and I were only supposed to be a short story, as opposed to an epic novel. Albeit, both situations could have been just as riveting, but an epic novel feels that much better. So here I am, stuck thinking and wondering if I am yet another anecdote.

The truth is, however, whether or not I am just another anecdote is incidental. My sex-capades with Transformer may have simply been a romantic and intense short story, instead of the epic novel I so desperately may want it to be. The longevity of either scenarios does not change the intensity of romance and lust – in fact, a short affair is usually that much more intense both physically and emotionally (but I digress, as usual). Of course, it is equally undeniable that when you find a good thing – nay, a great thing – you almost always want to hold onto it, for as long as possible. Truth be told, love simply is not one of the many good things in life of which we cannot have too much. Now, it may not yet be love with Transformer, but I definitely cannot stop thinking about him.

If it were simply because sex with him has been earth-shattering – each and every time, I might add – it would be as simple as procuring a new affair with one of the handful of men still pursuing me. Unfortunately, of course, I have been hit with the monogamy-bug – even if we had not explicitly established anything in that department, for the time that we are apart. It really is frightening how one good event can completely change my disposition, and that applies to a new job, a new course, a new prospect, and so on. I literally have this sudden intrinsic goal to be as ‘good’ as I can be, lest I lose this good thing. Back to Transformer, I feel myself actually willing to wait for him, when I really do not need to be. At the same time , I catch myself waiting and pining for that message/email/limerick that will make my heart skip a beat – or worse, make me jump up in the air and writhe with ecstasy. Am I crazy? Perhaps, but that really should be no surprise by now.

So, in an attempt to avoid these emotional roller-coasters I have jumped to the not-so-conclusion that Transformer and I may be a series of short stories – not quite an epic novel, but not a two-pager either. With that loophole in place, I find myself getting through the days easier; finding the grey in any black-and-white situation always makes things easier (something Canadians are notorious for anyway). So even if I go on a date, I have to prevent myself from feeling guilty. But at the same time, even in the subsequent dates, I found myself rejecting each of them for silly reasons such as, he’s-too-shy, he’s-too-confident, he’s-not-artsy-enough, he’s-such-a-hippy, he’s-got-a-gigantic-Adam’s-apple. If you have not deduced it yet, the silly reasons/excuses for each man came up because none of them was Transformer. It really is not easy being smitten by a man, who is miles away, will not be back for another two months, and may not even be feeling the same way about me. Is he worth all this brainpower? Ultimately, no, because I really should not be thinking and analyzing this as much as I have been. But, is he worth waiting for? I really do not know that either, but hell, I’m totally buggin’.

Rule of thumb is that you never want to let yourself be tossed up to Cloud-9…

…if that special someone is not going to be up there to meet you, much less catch you when reality forces your descent. I am certainly not implying that Transformer has left me hanging in limbo, but he is also nowhere near, as I reach my emotional highs (and lows) – all from messages that can range from an electronic nudge to a long-winded email. Even though we never made any specific arrangements regarding our communication for the summer, or even the extent of our ‘relationship’, deep down I am still hoping that he would be romantic and simply tell me that we are ‘together.’ Damn, my passive-aggressiveness always gets in the way. So, as I wait for an event that is highly unlikely, I am left wallowing in my own self-pity, drowning in self-loathing – thus driving me deeper into spinsterhood.

Naturally, friends do not let friends sink helplessly into quicksand – especially, if it is because of my own fidgeting that I am sinking deeper. In come the friends that date all the way back to high school (aka. Ancient Times), wherein we were all tied together by the infamous International Baccalaureate Program – a total crock of shit besides the beautiful friendships that transpired, but I digress. So here we were, the International Academia, four years later, four years after the tearful goodbyes and I’ll-never-see-you-again speeches, four years after what felt like the biggest step in our lives, only to realize that it was a stump compared to the glorious mountain preceding it. Activities and gatherings that we could only have dreamt doing back in high school were realizing themselves as we speak. From coffee dates to drunken sleepover-cum-brunches to fashion-cocktail parties, the list extends itself. Over the span of a weekend, it was repeatedly drilled into our skulls that this is our lives now, not just because our demographic accommodates it, but also because we pursued it. Gone are the days of loitering in a mall to pass the time and distract ourselves from the drama that was high school, instead, we have replaced it with fashionable networking and/or liquid-lunches to brood about ‘grown-up’ drama. It is like progressing from That 70’s Show and up to Friends. An ego boost perhaps, but who doesn’t want to be cultured and city-chic yet still down-to-Earth?

Meetings with the International Academia involved exchanging anxieties about relationships past, present and to come. As an observer, it really is to tell someone else what to do, where to go and even what to say. Specifically, in MD’s case (he is definitely the mover-and-shaker in the group, and you know who you are), hearing him talk about the what-ifs and all the shoulda-woulda-coulda scenarios with his somewhat-significant other, it was easy to point out his faults, which were mostly the result of his own insecurity. As a friend, it is easy to tell him all the goods he has to offer, and how to use to his best advantage in a relationship, but when it comes to me, I literally am oblivious to my qualities until they are pointed out for me. So there, mired in the respective messes of our own making, we discussed the ins-and-outs of our pursuits, analyzing all the ‘improvements’ we could have made. Then it hits us like a ton of bricks, What were we doing sitting and thinking and brooding like 40-year-olds? The truth is that no matter how invested we get into a relationship, or not, we were still at that point in our lives wherein making mistakes is part of discovering ourselves. It truly is astounding how romance transcends so many things, even orientation; despite the fact that it was a homosexual man advising a heterosexual man (and vice versa), we all still have the very same insecurities.

Even meeting with the ladies of the International Academia drilled in the same message, and a later conversation with Beautiful Fag-Hag could not have stated it any clearer, “You deserve to be happy, so stop over-thinking and over-analyzing things, and enjoy the time with him.” It is so simple, yet so profound. And my ladies NK and JB (they really could be identified with Carrie Bradshaw and Miranda Hobbs, respectively) were the perfect distractions from the self-pitying for an entire weekend. From drunken TV shows to Wii to a backyard-brunch, there was a constant reminder of the firm grasp of our friendships. I realize that I am sounding like another Hallmark greeting card, but it truly cannot be helped when your friends surround you, especially at a time when you really need to see past your own insecurities. So there it was, even if Transformer was not going to be around to catch me from my reality check, on the way to Cloud-9, I still have my friends ready and willing to catch me, and even remind me that that there’s no need to sweat it. Besides, Cloud-9 may very well be just around the corner.