I Knew You Were Trouble But I Fell For You Anyway

I knew you were trouble from the moment I met you. I knew you were trouble from the moment you put your hand behind your back, palm facing towards me, beckoning for my hand. I knew you were trouble when I reached for your hand only to have my fingers released instantly.

“What does your schedule look like this week?” you asked me in your apartment.

You were always asking me what I was up to. We met a few times while we were out at the bars. You have a very charming Mark Wahlberg smile. My skin prickled when your fingers graced my shoulders. My mind went blank when you kissed in the basement of the bar. We watched your friends play three rounds of pool table. I hadn’t felt that relaxed in weeks. I felt at ease with you; comfortable.

I have never enjoyed grilled cheese more than when you made it for me. The bread wasn’t too toasted, and the cheese was at the perfect melting point. It melted in my mouth and you melted my heart. Like I said, I was comfortable.

“Maybe we can grab dinner together,” you offer me.

“I’d like that a lot,” I smiled.

We never met up for dinner.

My apartment was too far. You were too busy. You were shy and hesitant.

I knew you were trouble.

The problem with excuses is that they’ve all been said before. If they weren’t said by you, they were said by the three guys that preceded you. Everyone is busy because we’re in college! I made time for you, though. I took an Uber to watch a wrestling match at your place. I took an Uber to celebrate your roommate’s 21st birthday. I took an Uber to watch a movie with you despite having a cold and lab the next morning. I made time for you.

Relationships are all about sacrifice and compromise. I believed you when you said you would come to my apartment the next time we hung out.

My apartment was still too far. You were busy. You were shy and hesitant.

“I want to take things slow with you. In the past, I have jumped in too fast and ruined things. I think you’re cool and I want to take things slow,” you told me.

I agreed and we kissed. I liked the way you kiss me. I liked the warm, fuzzy feeling that washed over me. I liked feeling free and in the moment.

“I’m just hesitant to come over here. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m a lot to handle,” you say the next morning.

We sit there in silence, waiting for the Uber to pull up.

We haven’t seen each other in over a week. Conversations have been short and nothing seems to be progressing. I constantly stare at my phone waiting for you to message me. I hate myself for being that girl. I don’t deserve a guy who keeps me waiting by my phone. I have a horrible gut feeling building in my stomach. I can tell when someone is going to run. And boy, you have it written all over your face.

Run, baby, run. I can’t force you to like me. I can’t chase you anymore because for once I want to be chased. I want to be wanted by someone. I constantly fall into relationships where I am never wanted back.

Maybe taking things slow is alright for the moment. But if we spend too much time going slow we may miss our chance. Like I said, I knew you were trouble.

Enjoy your grilled cheese.