This next guy I’m about to tell you was somewhat of a special guy to me. I met him at a Republican networking event to meet the local senator running for congress. There was something quirky about him that I really enjoyed. His name was Bo, and he was handsome in a nerdy kind of way. Bo was Asian, about 6 feet tall, with a muscular build. He was very well dressed and had those thick-rimmed hipster glasses you would see the boys wear in your local coffee shop. He had this smirk that halfway read “I’m uncomfortable, but I don’t really care” kind of attitude. I hit it off with him almost immediately. He was funny in a sense that he wasn’t actually that funny, but tried so hard to make me laugh. He was sarcastic, loved puns, and didn’t have a serious bone in his body. I liked that he always spoke his mind, even if he knew whatever he had to say would come out completely awkward.
The networking event took place at the restaurant inside the four seasons. I can’t remember why, but that night, my mother met me at the hotel so I could take her home. So mid conversation with Bo, my mother came in. As awkward as it was, he was bold enough to still politely ask for my phone number, so I happily gave it to him. He was the first guy since The Pilot, who has had this opportunity of meeting her, but I was weirdly comfortable with this. So with Bo’s number, I left with my mother for the night.
He texted me the very next day to make dinner plans. Again, with his honesty, he confessed to finding my Facebook page, and did “a little research” on me. This would normally be the point where I felt completely creeped out, but there was something endearing about his confession. We met up at an upscale bar downtown, and must have stayed for hours, because when I got back to my car, my meter had expired, and I had a ticket on my windshield. Bo happily took my ticket and paid it for me. I thought that was very sweet of him, and agreed to another date. This time, the date was at another downtown bar. I was really beginning to wonder when he’d buy me an actual dinner, but I’d never come to share those reservations with him.
After drinks, he offered to show me where he lived. The night was young, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet, so I happily agreed. He lived two blocks down the street in one of Denver’s up and coming buildings. His place was your typical bachelor pad: simply decorated with scarce decor on the walls, no food in the fridge but abundant with liquor, and nothing but a large TV in the living room. Simple, but upscale nonetheless. It was the first time I had dated someone of his financial class, and a part of me was a little closed off about that. I didn’t want him to feel like I cared about how much money he made, so I often shrugged off any sort of plan that required paying for, and would spend the rest of the time I had with him at his condo. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this would be a pattern I’d carry through some of my other relationships.
I continued to see Bo for the next 6 months. He was great company, but I always felt lacking. We never had any serious conversations, never fought, and never went outside the doors of his condo. He set up expectations that we would just stay friends, and because of that, I refused to develop true feelings for him. I think we both refused to give it a fair chance, and in the end, we decided to part ways. He ended up moving to California, and after 6 months, that was the end of our arrangement. So here’s an open letter to you, Bo. To the boy I never dated.
I’d be lying if I told you I wouldn’t miss you. Whether you like it or not, you are now apart of my life, and you now carry with you a piece of my heart. First and foremost, I liked you as a friend. The benefits didn’t hurt, and in the end, I don’t regret the decisions I made with you. You made it clear to me that a relationship wasn’t what you were seeking, and quite honestly, I wasn’t seeking one either. I knew from the beginning you weren’t the person I wanted to be with, but you were charming, quirky, awkward, different, and I liked that about you. I felt comfortable around you, and although we never established any type of trust, you made me feel secure. You did what any gentleman in our circumstance would do. You always checked in on me, made sure I got everything I asked for, and always made sure I got home safe. For the time being, that was all I needed from you. Now that you’re gone, I feel a sense of loss. It’s not necessarily a sadness, but more a feeling of losing something I’ve started becoming attached to. Our relationship (for lack of a better word), was in a state of limbo. I wouldn’t have been heart broken if you left me, but I would have also been open to the idea of taking it to the next level, if that’s what you wanted to do. I never let you in emotionally, and maybe that’s what swayed us in the direction we ended up in. In either case, I am now left confused, about how I feel and why I feel this way. I don’t know why I miss you, I just know that I do. I don’t know why I still think about you, I just know that you frequent my dreams and that it makes me happy. I know that I don’t love you, but I suppose it’s because I know I have the capability to, that makes me think of you. You were meant to be in my life one way or another, and that’s where I want you to be. That’s the one great thing about limbo, the mind isn’t fully made up there, and emotions are easier to sway. Now you have a piece of my heart. I just want you to hold on to it. Whether you stay a friend, or decide for something more, I’ll always be here.
Bo and I still keep up on social media. He seems to be thriving in California, and living a wonderfully happy life, I wish him all the best. He’s one of those people I admire for taking charge, living his own life, and following his heart. He’ll be forever young, and I hope he finds what he is looking for.