2001-10-23 - 1:41 a.m.

I went to the concert of the guy I hung out with last night. The music was amazing, its one of the best bands I've heard in years.

Here's the whole story. I met him on Saturday night after their first performance. He's totally HOT. I went out and had a smoke and met him. They play country music, I'm from Texas, so it was easy to strike up a conversation. But his personality is really understated. He seemed non-plussed about talking to me. So I let him be. Later, I decided to go back out and give him my phone number, because, why not. I met him on the way to the patio, he was coming back inside. I said, Hey, I was just coming to talk to you! And he seemed flattered and we talked. I think he was actually coming back inside to find me at the same time?

So I gave him my number. And yesterday he called. Now his personality is so low-key that I was thinking -- why bother going out with him -- he'll probably be boring since he's so low-key and since he's from Manitoba and since he's in a band and so good looking he'll probably be full of himself.

But I was sooo WRONG. I went out on a date with him. I took him for a veiw at the top of the mountain. i was very comfortable with him and comfortable in myself. Things worked beautifully. I made him laugh a couple of times, he has a good smile. We ended up downtown drinking -- but as the night wore on the magic wore off a little. Back at his apartment where the band is staying we had another drink and smoked a joint -- and then he said he was tired and he was going to bed. He invited me to sleep on the couch or in the same bed as him - whichever. I elected to sleep in the same bed as him. I kept all my clothes on (thinking that they might come off later, but anyway I didn't want to seem all presumptious and easy) He told me he was glad he met me. We fell asleep. Either he didn't put the moves on me because he was tired, or because (I thought) he didn't like me, or because he was waiting for me to put the moves on him. But whichever, we fell asleep.

And there was no romance or vibe, just sleep. But it felt so good to be sleeping in the same bed as a man. I swear I think I dreamed about his life in Edmonton, or his dreams, i felt that close. I woke up at one point with my hand on his hip and it felt so right.

The next morning we had coffee and then I left. We were friendly with each other, but there was no flirtation. He said he'd put me on the guest list at his show.

Tonight I went to the show. I was feeling bewildered about the previous night -- I didn't know if he didn't put the moves on me because he wasn't attracted, or because he WAS attracted and so cool that he didn't want me to think he just wanted to get laid. I didn't know if he put me on the guest list out of obligation, or what. But I wne to the show.

Before the set he stopped and chatted with me. He asked me about the Peace Corps Interview!!! He was soooo NICE TO ME. INTO ME.

After the show, I followed him to the back and we had a smoke. He showed me his van from the window, he was real excited like a kid showing you a toy. It was sweet that he wanted to share that with me. Then he was so nice and straight up -- he was like -- I'm going to go mingle. So he did - He'd just finished a show, after all!!

I followed him up to the front a few minutes later, and started hanging out with the band. I asked Swifty if I could buy a cd from him, he said he would give it to me -- but I told him I could buy one so he gave me two. It was sweet of him. We continued to mingle and hang out with the band. Everyone was so nice to me. He made a point of introducing me to his band mate -- "THIS is DREAMSELF" I was so flattered.

So we were hanging out and all of a sudden it was late. And the band was starting to pack up. And I felt a little awkward. And So I decided to GO.

WHY DID I DO THAT? WHY DID I PANIC? WHY DID I DECIDE TO GO??

See, I had it all worked out like how I would leave early and be all cool and not be eager, and let him hang out with the other good looking girls that I knew he would rather meet than me. But the thing was, he didn't pay attention to anyone else, and they all left. He was paying attention to ME. So why did I panic? It was just total habit. It was like I was assuming he wouldn't really be into me, he'd rather be with his band. So I thought I would leave before it got awkward and I was all desperate looking.

So I got up to leave and he followed me.I handed him a postcard with my address on it. He said"It was AWESOME meeting you" and he said "I WILL write to you" and he gave me a big close warm hug. And I gave him a short kiss on the lips and I just said "have a good night" and then I left. I kind of blew him off. . .

I'm supposed to be a writer, right? I'm supposed to be the one that SAYS all the the things I think, that says what noone else does, that says the beautiful memorable things -- I should have told him how good I thought this music was, or how much it meant meeting him, or that I liked sleeping next to him, or that I wished he'd kissed me, or that I loved his songwriting --- but instead I just said something lame like "it was fun hanging out with you this weekend. Thanks for the cd????????!!"

I used to have the opposite problem of being clingy and overbearing -- so I've totally overcorrected myself. I had absolutely no problem being chill all weekend and going with the flow -- but at the critical moment, I was TOO CHILL.

So I left. And he stared after me. I don't know what I am waiting for -- I have it in my head that he should run after me and insist on walking me out or kiss me with toungue in front of everyone or say that I'm beautiful or whatever -- but I can't wait for boys to say or do those things -- because he shouldn't have to tell me those things in words when he already had by the way he'd treated me this evening. And I BLEW IT.

So I sat in my car and I felt like crying. I wanted to run back into the club and throw my arms around him and say I'm sorry I left so soon, you know I think you're so deep and beautiful -- but pride kept me from it. I thought maybe it would be another awkward scene. So instead I wrote on the inside cover of the Kitty Wells tape I had in my car For Swifty, I'm glad we met And I put the tape in the handle of the driver's door of his van. Maybe he'll get it. I hope some wandering homeless dude doesn't steal it before he gets down there.

Will he write me?

If he does, should I tell him all I've been thinking about this weekend, and him?

Or should I not be sad, not miss him, not care -- because after all, he's from Manitoba, and I'll probably never see him again . . .

I wish now I didn't have the 2 cds of their band. Because the music is too tender. The whole 2nd album is written about and dedicated to one of the band member's girlfriend who died at age 32 of breast cancer. Their music is sad alt-country ballads, like a sad sad dream. I know I'm just going to listen to the albums and cry for him, and cry for every lost love I ever had, Jim and Ryan and every boy I ever met that I thought for a moment we had magic -- and I will miss Swifty and his sad country ballads and i will always wonder if things could have been different if I stayed, if he would have kissed me in the street, if he would have written a song for me. . .