Return of Socially Awkward Girl

Oh my.

Oh Jeez.


Yesterday, after being afflicted by what can only be called temporary but total insanity, I struck up a conversation with the extremely good-looking law student in my Arabic class. We've had classes together before and one particularly memorable day sort of had lunch together when we randomly ended up in the same cafe. Other than this, I usually do my best to avoid eye contact or conversation. He's an incredible guy; intelligent, funny, so handsome that when he wears a suit to class I can practically see the words "____ for Senate" below his face. I don't know if he has political aspirations but he's certainly made of whatever the right stuff for that kind of destiny is. I won't say he's "out of my league" because it upsets the people who love me, but I can tell, already, that we have different paths.

So anyway, my brain must have been addled or something, but I asked him about law school (an option I'm weighing for life after graduation,) and he suggested we get lunch. Lunch was had. My usual nervous tics were kept to a minimum, save, of course, talking to much and laughing a bit too nervously. But we talked. I sometimes even managed to say the right thing. I do so enjoy that moment when the words come out so easily it is as though they have already been said. Anyway, it didn't take long for me to realize something was wrong. For starters, I've been smiling so much all day that my head is starting to ache. It's hard to explain this kind of happiness, particularly since, in the part of my brain that is still rational, I remember that I have no idea if he's even single. (I suspect not. I just find it difficult to believe the girls at my school would permit it.) It isn't that I'm happy because I imagine that he likes me or even that I think this is going anywhere. I'm happy that I don't care. I don't really know how to explain it. It was fun, I didn't make a complete fool of myself, and I haven't been robbed of my impression that he's a really, really good guy. I don't need the contrived movie ending a la She's All That (or any other nerdy girl rescue flicks) because my sense of success is not wrapped up in the idea of wrapping up a successful man.

And this isn't to get self-righteous by any means. I'm not comparing myself to other women (even the fictional ones in movies) I'm comparing my current mental state to the way I've looked at the world since the age of 15. I've always felt like I needed the approval of one man or another to feel OK about who I was and what I wanted. So today I got to eat lunch with my dream guy- emphasis on dream- and instead of being so concerned about what he thought of me, I was able to relax for five seconds and have a good time. I still will probably swoon just a little bit when he walks by me in class, (ok, maybe more than a little) but because he's a dream- not because he's a goal or a measure of my self-worth. This may all seem pretty obvious, but these ideas are things I've said out loud and never really meant. For all my preaching self-reliance, I've been the worst person I know when it comes to living and dying with the way my man of the moment thinks of me.

So, yeah, I'm grinning because I had lunch with a great guy. And yeah, socially awkward girl came back a little.

But I'm actually grinning because I'm free. Socially Awkward Girl and I have made peace.

It feels pretty good.

That's all.