Over the last two years, my life has become unrecognizable to that of the person who used to write this blog, at least on the surface. I moved to Charlotte, leaving a city that I used to think was the real love of my life behind me. After moving here for a nightmare of a job, I was recruited into a job I genuinely love with coworkers who have become amazing friends. Oh, and I bought a house. I’m a homeowner, and that is a dream that never would have come true in DC.
But, with all these amazing changes, I am still over here wasting time on boys who don’t deserve me. I still tend to backslide with boys I should leave in the rearview mirror. I’m still struggling with my ever-curvier body image because it’s hard to shake comments like Teddy’s that, even after all this time, are always in the back of my mind. No matter how many times I remind myself I’m a badass, home-owning, curvy queen, I still have a hard time standing up for myself with people I care about when I feel wronged. Instead of standing up, I still shut down. Instead of moving forward, I still hold on. It’s like I have a hard time believing I deserve all the success and great things in my life.
Maybe that is why I let my hot neighbor into my life. Why do I have feelings for someone I know is broken and not really pursuing me? Even though Hot Neighbor looks at me in a way that makes everyone think we are a couple, we aren’t. I need to trust what he said - I don’t want to date him, he will destroy me. Even if his actions don’t match, I need to listen to the words coming out of his mouth. I have been taught that lesson so many times, when someone tells you who they are, you need to believe them.
How did I get into this situation? I should have never slept with my next door neighbor, but I let the spark I felt overcome my better judgement. I’m turning 33 in 16 days and need to stop following the wild sparks that have led me into some of the darkest times in my life.
When I ran into him on the sidewalk a week after moving in, I felt a tightness in my chest, that butterflies meet-cute moment. I could feel my cheeks hurting from the insane smile I had the whole time we talked. He asked for my number and texted me so I would have his. I fought the “crazy girl” urge to google him immediately. He is my neighbor, liking him is a terrible idea, the absolutely worst idea, and that is why I didn’t text him for a few weeks. I was having a few friends over for a house warming so inviting Hot Neighbor couldn’t hurt anything; it was just neighborly.
When he replied that he was going to ask me over for a drink that night anyway I felt giddy, ecstatic. No harm in friendly drinks. I rushed to finish cleaning up my house for the upcoming party so I could see the tall, mysterious boy next door. I didn’t realize we would sit on my couch from 9:30pm until after 2:00am just talking. I also didn’t realize I would come to wish I could take back those 4 ½ hours. If those hours of talking about everything hadn’t happened, maybe I wouldn’t be trying to shake off the feelings I have for him.
As I curled my hair and put on my perfectly curated outfit for my party, I thought about him, what would Hot Neighbor think of my yellow dress, or seeing me all done up. I was so happy to have my friends in my new home, to see their faces after months of quarantine, but until I answered the door and saw him on the other side, I was anxious. But he came and he cleaned up nicely. I tried not to focus all my attention on him, to make sure I was spending time with all the amazing people in my life who showed up. Every time I looked over at him and he smiled, those stupid butterflies fluttered in my chest. When he left to pop by another party in the neighborhood, I felt a little deflated, even though he promised he was coming back. I knew I was in big trouble, that Hot Neighbor was trouble, that I had caught some feelings.
When other neighbors who I had over suggested we go to the neighborhood party, drunk me was all about it. We walked into the alleyway party and I saw Hot Neighbor walking away from the party with another girl - I felt like I had been punched in the chest. He said he was making sure she got home ok, but I saw how pretty she was, how thin and cute. He was barely out of sight when my eyes welled with tears. I was mad at myself for crying; I barely knew him and I had no reason to be upset. So what if we had talked about more things in the first night hanging out then I had with the last guy I “dated” for two months?
I continued to down the rosé, hoping the wine would numb the feeling. Instead I found myself alone in my kitchen, putting away leftovers and texting him to come hang out. I went 100% drunk girl on him. He was texting back, but he didn’t come over, or answer the door when I rang his doorbell. I woke up the next day filled with shame and regret, mortified at my behavior. I would love to blame the pandemic and being cooped up for months, but we all know I have been that girl when there wasn’t a global health crisis to blame. I sent a GIF of someone hiding in a box labeled shame, and another that said “we’re still friends right?”.
Hot Neighbor: “Haha yes I was planning on coming over today what time works for you.”
When I didn’t respond right away he came back with …
“Don’t make me come ring your doorbell ;)”
A sense of relief washed over me. I hadn’t ruined our friendship with my drunk antics. He was going to come over and hangout. I nursed my hangover and cleaned up more from the party, anxiously awaiting HN to ring my doorbell. When he hugged me the moment I opened the door, I realized I didn’t know where we stood at all. As we climbed the stairs to my main floor and he told me that the drunk girl from last night had thrown-up so she slept on his couch, I didn’t think about why he had taken her back to his place. As I handed him a water bottle, he pulled me into another hug, a different hug, a caressing embrace. That embrace led to a kiss, which led to clothes on my floor, and sober sex with my next door neighbor. I didn’t think, I just let my body take over, absorbing every ounce of affection that I had been longing for over the past year. Afterwards, lying next to him in my bed realizing how many lines I had just crossed and how much I liked him, I knew I was in over my head.
Hot Neighbor didn’t hang around long after sex. Left alone with my thoughts, a dangerous place to be under normal circumstances, I began to spiral. I don’t want to be his fuck buddy, the fat neighbor he fucks out of convenience, I don’t want to be that girl and I have tried so hard to not be that girl. I knew he and I needed to talk about it, that I needed to say that friends was a better idea considering we’re neighbors, but how do you bring that up? I tried inviting him over for a drink during the week but he had plans that night. I practiced the conversation in my head over and over. That I wasn’t saying I wanted more from him, just in general I’m in a place in my life that I’m looking for more than casual.
With Friday off, I spent the day at our neighborhood pool, day drinking and making new friends. When Hot Neighbor asked if I wanted to come take a shot of tequila at his house, I was way too many White Claws in to have a proper conversation but didn’t realize it. Have you ever had one of those conversations that the harder you try to fix it the more it snowballs out of control? When “I don’t want to be fuck buddies” turns into, “You don’t want to be with me anyway, I would destroy your life.” I didn’t know what to say but of course I tried. He said I would end up getting drunk and fucking him again in a couple months. My mind said, well that does sound like me, but it also infuriated me. How dare he! When he told me he had a very hot but very stupid girl coming over, I knew I had to get out of there. What he was saying didn’t add up to the person who sat in my living room the week before. It didn’t add up to the person who told my friends about his broken engagement. But it did sound like so many shitty guys from my past.
I reacted in the only way drunk me knew how, I sat on my couch crying and texted my much younger ex, P (full story on him in a later post). He couldn’t come over that night but would text me the next day to hang out. Although we are never ever going to work out, I knew that P would make me feel wanted and at that moment I needed to feel desired. I needed Hot Neighbor to know I was wanted by other people.
When P showed up to the alley party the next night and met all my neighbors, he held my hand and kissed me. I’ve never been a dirty secret with him. Our first date was a huge cocktail party with all his friends. I go back to him because he has never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough; he has always been proud to be seen with me and to show affection. Hot Neighbor wasn’t there and that didn’t matter, I needed P’s attention. After an hour at the party and several hours back at my house, I was reminded that casual doesn’t have to lack passion. P left because he had an early tee time. I tried my best to persuade him to stay the night, and as he put it “used my witchery” to prolong his departcher, but few things get in the way of him and golf.
After he left, I checked my phone to find Hot Neighboor texted me several hours before. “What are ya’ll getting into tonight?” I should have let it go, but I didn’t. I said, “Sorry I had company.”
HN: No worries. Are those fireworks coming from our neighborhood?
Harper: I think so? I have sparklers I haven’t used.
HN: You dog. How late do these people stay up partying? I still haven’t reached my drunk peak.
Harper: I think they are still in the alley
HN: Do you want to drink?
Harper: Sure
HN: Don’t sound so excited
Harper: My place or yours?
HN: You are welcome to come over or we can go to the alley your choice.
Harper: I just asked if they are still out there.
HN: Tight. Tequila shot?
After a shot of tequila, me alluding to my company, and him reminding me that he will always be the first person I had sex with in my house, we headed to the neighborhood party that was still going at 1am. When I walked up, one of the neighbors who I had just met that night blurted out “that isn’t the guy you left with earlier.” I felt both embarrassed and vindicated. I told her that HN was just a neighbor I walked over with and that P had left, a sentiment I had to repeat to several different people. The more people commented on where P went and pried for details, the more Hot Neighbor was on his phone, well until a girl showed up in the alley. She had some kind of accident so he had sent her to his house by herself to get cleaned up. When we all gave him a hard time about how he should have gone with her, he said “I mean I don’t care about her, I’m not going to sleep with her.”
My new adorable gay couple besties, M&C, said something about would you have sent Harper down an alley by herself, and NH’s answer shook me. He said of course not and if that was me he would drop his drink, run after me and make sure I was home and safe in bed. When he saw the look on their faces, he started to back peddle, I matter because we’re neighbors, she's like a sister. I gave him a look, and he retracted the sister comment.
Are you confused yet? Because I sure am. C took me upstairs to freshen up my hair and clean up my melting mascara. When we returned the girl was back, and as much as I wanted to dislike her because of the circumstance, she was actually very sweet. But I couldn’t help but notice she was the exact opposite of me. Tall, thin athletic build, long brown hair, brown eyes and a tan I will only have if I pay someone to airbrush me. I probably weigh two of her. How can I believe he is into me if he is into her? When they started to kiss I was done, it was 3:30am anyway.
Walking away from the party I knew he was going to sleep with her, and it bothered me more than I wanted it to. I had slept with someone else, I had no right to be jealous, but it still raged inside of me. Every bit of validation I had gotten from P and our time together was gone.
Over the next week Hot Neighbor and I really didn’t talk. A snapchat here or there, he would watch my instagram stories, but no real contact. I knew he had a military exercise coming up, he is in the reserves, and that would mean he would be leaving for a few weeks. Thursday evening he sent a snap of his packed bags. I responded asking when he was leaving and he said Saturday morning. I felt the need to see him before he left. I was cooking dinner for M&C and invited him over for a drink with us. Dinner led to us hanging out in M&C’s garage and lots of neighbors stopping by.
When Hot Neighbor finally got there, I felt so anxious. I tried my best to not flirt and to talk to other people as much as possible. Someone I had just met said something about how long my boyfriend and I had been in the neighborhood. I quickly corrected them and said we were just next door neighbors. I talked to a gorgeous older Latino man who was there with a friend. We were having the best conversation, and I said something about being single and buying a house on my own. He said, “wait you’re single? I thought you were with,” and he pointed out Hot Neighbor. Knowing I was single apparently changed everything for this dreamboat of a man, his words not mine. He asked if he could walk me home, and after some hesitation I said yes.
I didn’t say goodbye to HN, but when I said goodbye to C he told me that when Hot Neighbor wasn’t with me he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. I wanted to believe it was because C is my friend and not because Hot Neighbor really was giving off “we’re together vibes” to everyone that night. I kept trying to push it out of my mind. Hot Neighbor left for his military thing and I thought this meant I could get my head together, except all weekend people who met us that night kept commenting on how they thought we were a couple, and well he is clearly into you then.
How am I supposed to get my head on straight about us being friends when he acts like that? How am I supposed to believe the things that come out of his mouth about being terrible for me when he looks at me with his big hazel eyes and I have to look away because it makes my heart flutter? Why can’t I just believe him and shut off my feelings?
This is like every guy from my 20s in DC - the pattern I have been trying so hard to break. He is broken, and I think I can fix him. But if history is any indication I can’t. I refuse to spend months or years of my life on another person who is never going to change, or grow up, or realize that they want to be with me. How do I make my heart stop feeling like this? I know how it is going to end; he even told me how it is going to end. Why do I still want to believe he got scared of his feelings and is pushing me away? How can so many things in my life have changed, and I still can’t pass up a broken Peter Pan of a boy destined to break my heart?
I shouldn’t spend another minute on him, yet I have spent hours pouring all my feelings and our story onto these pages. Thousands of words written just to remind myself that this isn’t a Hallmark movie. He told me who he is, and I need to start believing him. Can one of you show me how?
