A Note on “I Like You”
Something tremendous happened recently. A guy told me he liked me. Not in a weird, nebulous, let’s-hang-out-and-see-what-happens way, but in a “I like you” way. The actual words.
I don’t think this has ever happened to me before. For example, in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my class. I blogged about it, thinking he would never find it (This was early blogging times, friends. I was dumb.), but then one day he confronted me about my blog…and I was mortified. Just the idea that he knew I liked him made me want to hide under the covers of my extra long twin bed for a semester. But, it turns out, he liked me, too. But did we ever just say, “Hey, I like you!”? Hell no.
I’ve read about this kind of forwardness and honesty in those “If he likes you, he’ll tell you!”-type books, but I never actually thought it was a real thing. In fact, before he told me he liked me, I was ready to spend the rest of the day analyzing our date, and reading into the subtext of his texts, trying to find out if he liked me…but then I didn’t have to. How liberating.