oh fuck it.
Sit down, grab like 4 home made cinnamon buns and a big glass of milk, cause this is gonna be sweet.
I've known Tall Paul since I was 19 and dated a mutual friend of ours. I remember the "second" time meeting him. Guy walks right up to me at a house party and is like "Hi, Katie!" and I just kind of stare at him and reply with a "hi? Uhm, have we met?" He played it cool and explained that we had briefly met after my bands concert , but I felt like deep down, he was slightly hurt that I didn't remember him. 'Cause I felt kind of shitty for it...
Well, let me TELL YOU! I have never forgotten Paul since that moment. I don't know if it was his enthusiasm, confidence, or simply his TALLNESS, but Paul became this permanent fixture in my brain. Maybe I didn't think of him all the time, or even get to know him all that well over the years, but I've always referred him as "tall and damn sexy Paul" (of course only really close girlfriends would have been privy to such sensitive information) but I guess now that this will be all over the internet, well.... now you are too. Interaction with Paul never really got to the point of just us hanging out until I'd say, last year. I had decided to take him up on an offer of snowboarding, not really thinking that he would want to hit the mountain with me. It was a nice trip, I got to know him a lot better, and it basically ended with him offering to buy me a beer next time he was in town. I don't remember there being any major flirting, or any thing racy. Many stories were shared and smiles were had. overall, it left me thinking, hm. too bad he lives far away.
Fast forward to August this year: He's in town for a month and I finally decide to head out to an event he is at. I felt like, "you know what? fuck it! I'm going to wear that belly baring crop-top and get some kind of reaction out of him",...... IF indeed he was interested. I'll be honest here, I am a confident woman and I like to think that I have a sense about these things. And I've felt like I may just be his type...... Cause he's always been one of mine. So I get to the venue for our friends band and he's like the first person I see walking in. He's sitting facing some of his friends and our friends dad and he turn around just as I walk in. and smiles. Yup. that smile. that did it. That smile totally made my night. I'm sure it was just a friendly "oh hey! It's so great to see you again!" smile, but, It hit me hard. That silly, charming, enthusiastic and ridiculously good looking smile gripped my heart strings and put them at ease. I would play it cool tonight. I would enjoy myself. I would get some drinks, and I would slowly make it obvious to him that I would want what was on his mind too. I made sure to stand tall, in all of my 5'2" glory. I would stand tall: not to attempt to rival his 6'3 stature, but to portray the sense that I can be strong, hold my own.... aaaaand maybe give the illusion that my waist is a bit thinner at the center, and have him want to put a hand there. its a nice place to touch, and to rest a hand.
and he did. a few times. Thats when I knew it was cool. It was like an unspoken "yup, lets drink to calm the nerves and flirt some more now." And we did. He bought pretty much every round and every so often, after we would roam the bar and mingle, we would find each other again and continue chatting, and he would happily place his hand on my thigh after we laughed, or place his hand on the small of my back, or on the curve at my side as he leaned in to say something close to my ear. I knew by the time we were at our friends house for an after party, I may have had a bit too much. We mixed some drinks and shared them. and somehow managed to share a spot on the couch, where I blatantly rested by legs up onto his, for all to see. I think this may have been a bit bold. Maybe too obvious. But I figured if he was going to flirt with me in front of everyone, and not be shy about wanting to touch me gently on my back, my leg, then damnit! I was going to try and get close to him. I remember things ending with us leaving the house and having agreed that we would catch a cab back to my place, and he would stay. We had just put on our shoes and were walking out of the door when JP runs out to tell us that he would drive us home. oh man. that was nice of him, but it certainly wasn't music to my ears. The whole ride home, Paul sat in the front seat and reached his right hand around the side of the passenger side (JP has a right wheel drive...) and grabbed for my hand. and held it. and stroked it. and made me want him. and when we got to my apartment, I drunkenly told him "I'd invite you up, but I think I've had too much.. and JP drove us... "
We never talked about that night until Montreal. and John never knew about Paul grabbing my hand until I told him later in November.
Paul lives at the end of a 5 hr plane ride on the eastern side of Canada. and my on my first night there, he kissed me while we cuddled on his apartment couch watching Sunny in Philadelphia. and I though for a moment, maybe this could work.