M was a friend of my roommate’s boyfriend and I started dating him after he saw my picture and decided he wanted to get to know me. He lived in NYC and I lived in Boston, but he was determined to take me out.

Normally I wouldn’t bother getting into the long distance thing, but he was super tall, extremely intelligent, and not bad looking, so I figured I’d give him a chance. Plus, he was super nice. Like he would drop everything when I called, take me anywhere I wanted to go, kind of nice. What girl doesn’t want that, right? I was just getting out of a relationship with a guy I loved but who didn’t drop everything at the drop of a hat for me, so I figured this would be refreshing. M came to Boston one weekend and took me to dinner.

Right away my roommate told me her boyfriend didn’t want us dating. “She’ll end up hurting him,” he had told her. Me, hurt a guy? I’m not exactly known as a super-b*tch when it comes to dating, so I really didn’t foresee myself hurting anyone.

After another perfectly nice date, M came to visit again, also known as our third date. My friends arrived at my apartment, anxious to meet him. M wasn’t there when they arrived; he was out trying to find a restaurant that served chicken pot pie. See, I had this craving, so I told him I wanted one, and he was off on a mission. After a bit, he ran back into my apartment breathless and defeated. “I couldn’t find one anywhere,” he told me. But I wanted one badly. “Did you try Z’s?” my friend asked. “They have them there.” “Really?” he replied eagerly. And he was out the door again. Fifteen minutes later and I had my chicken pot pie in hand. Read More »