“you’re going back south after dinosaurland? i can catch a ride with you?” “yes, right.”
john drove me back to the campground even though it didn’t make a lot of sense– he lived north. after a while it slowly dawned on me that he’d made a point of being the one to take me back. he hates the moment when everyone goes their separate ways. maybe he was prolonging it.
it was nice, really. over lunch i had the closest thing to a real conversation i think i’ve ever had with john. he’s very quiet. i’ve known him for five or six years, yet i feel i barely know him. a lot of what i know, bj told me– she and john are very close.
for the last couple of years, bj’s been pushing the idea that i get together with john, but i’ve always seen him as too young, too inexperienced, too awkward. he is, in fact, _completely_ inexperienced with women.
it’s been fun to watch him grow, though. he’s become more sure of himself. now, during this trip, i could start to see what is attractive about him. he’s intelligent and thoughtful; he’s aware of what’s happening around in him a way most people probably don’t realize, since he keeps everything to himself. he’s got the best kind of guy hands; smooth and sensitive, yet wide and masculine with obvious veins along the surface. he’s good with tools, he’s a good driver. he lets his hair grow long, not from vanity, but because he just lets it grow, and it looks amazing.
he told me something i didn’t know about him– that he’d been raised on a dairy farm. i was surprised to find that this tapped into one of the many obscure guy-types i like: the quiet farmhand. i imagined the john of today living close to nature, working on the farm with his big, strong guy hands.
so here’s what i should have done: suggest that i sneak him into the campground to hang out in the van with me for the rest of the afternoon.
here’s what i did do: tell him to just drop me off at the entry to the campground, and then i said goodbye and got out of the car and spent the afternoon on my own.
see… i’ve got no room to complain about my lack of a love life. i don’t take the opportunities that are thrown at me. i’m regretting that one.
there was another opportunity that came my way recently, though, that i’m not regretting– much to my surprise. i’m not going to tell you about that one, though. just that i don’t regret it.