Julia, Thy Name Is Crazy

I am a Crazy-Person. No. You have no idea. I really mean it this time. I am actually INSANE.

So, I picked up a guy at the comic book shop today. My mother asked what this meant when I told her. "You took him back to your place?" she asked.

Let me spread it out for you in a nutshell, so there's no confusion. I did NOT take him back to my place. I got caught up in a conversation in the comic book shop, with this guy, some other customers, and the guy who works there. As I was leaving, the guy (he'll have a name in a moment, don't worry) was also leaving.

"Sorry you got caught up in that," he said.

"Oh it's no problem. I don't mind," I said sincerely. I glanced over at him and saw that he was carrying a small wisp of a comic book bag. I should perhaps mention that it was a big week, and I left with ten comic books. Don't judge.

"Oh my gosh! You bought nothing! Did you SEE my stack?" I blurted out, before I could stop. He laughed and said something about being very picky about what he reads. I told him that I had only been reading comic books for a little over a year, so I was reading absolutely everything just to get a handle on exactly what it is I like. This has seemed to me to be the best way to choose what I read. I try a little of this, a little of that; I stick with the things I like, and drop the ones I don't. Unfortunately, more things have stuck than dropped...

Anyway.

We were nearing the end of the block and he paused to hold out his hand.

"I'm Steve."

"Julia."

We shook.

"Well, I'm going this way," I said, starting to turn.

"Actually, so am I," he replied. You're a clever one, aren't you? I thought. Then: Oh smeg, now if I don't keep talking we'll have that awkward walking-in-the-same-direction-but-not-actually-with-each-other thing. Out of desperation, I kept talking.

We walked and talked this way for several blocks. I just kept asking question after question to keep from awkward silence. Every time I would turn to go a different direction he would follow.

"I'm on break right now, so I'm actually just meandering. Do you mind? If you do, I'll go my own way," he said at one such turn.

"I don't mind. You can meander beside me all you like," I replied. Did I say that?

It turns out he's a comic book artist. An actual, real-live, professional artist. He drew a graphic novel that is being published by RandomHouse.

This is what I mean about the universe conspiring to put me on a path. I mean, what are the odds??

OK, true: he was in a comic book shop. But still.

Now the trouble comes with me messing up what the universe has handed me. A lot of times I think I get set on a path and I immediately take a U-turn because I get scared.

I mentioned that I was working on writing a comic book. But was too embarrassed to share any of it with him (see above RE: U-turn). What if he thinks it's cliche? What if it IS cliche?

I asked what his art was like, and he asked if I'd like to see some sometime.

"Sure."

There was awkward silence. It was the sort of stunned silence of a guy who has just asked a girl something that he expected her to say a polite 'no' to, but got a 'sure' instead.

"Uh...when?" he asked, once he'd remembered how to speak.

I, being a crazy person, immediately panicked, and didn't want to set a date. It felt too locked in, I could already feel the choke-hold of commitment around my neck.

"Oh, I don't know...when are you free?" I asked.

He started listing off a bunch of days, then said something about his family planning a huge event, blah blah blah.

"Tell you what, why don't you call me when you're free," I cut him off. He floundered for a moment, looking rather like a fish out of water.

"I'll need something from you for that to happen," he once again regained the power of speech.

I gave him my number.

And now I am FREAKING OUT!!!!!

What have I gotten myself into? I am now obligated, out of common courtesy, to answer the phone when he calls! If I don't, I'll have to start going into Manhattan to get my comic books, because I sure as heck couldn't show my face at my regular haunt anymore.

What is wrong with me? Why is this making me feel so anxious?

Here's the thing: I enjoyed talking with Steve. He seems like a genuinely nice guy who has a lot of similar interests to me. But I'm not sure I felt that spark. You know the one. However, I've been thinking that I need to increase my circle of friends a little, and there's NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING FRIENDS WITH STEVE. I had to put that in capital letters so I would read it and believe it. Now, there was some flirting, and I have no doubt that he'd like to be more than friends, but he also wasn't completely fawning all over me. We were just talking, getting to know each other, so I don't think he'll be crushed if when he calls I tell him I really just want to hang out and not date. That's allowed, right?

Oh my gosh, this makes me so nervous.

I am FREAKING OUT!

Oh, dear. I have more issues than a lifetime comic book collector. Ba-doom CHING!

OK, I'm breathing. I feel calm. Collected. Not freaked out. The real freak out will come when he calls.

'Till then, I'm going to try not to think about it.