Blue

In case you didn’t know, the way to my heart is through my weird, geeky obsessions. Case in point: I sort of fell for a guy at 5 a.m. in a diner when he started singing an old Stevie Nicks song to me.

Blue is from South Carolina. I find it kind of remarkable that his name isn’t short for something awful like Bluford. He has an accent and he thinks that maybe God made some people gay so that they could adopt all the orphans in the world. On the phone, he calls people “Brotha.”

Dave says he thinks Blue likes me and I can see how people might get that impression. Whenever I see Blue I feel like he’s flirting with me. But he flirts with everyone, or at least makes them think he’s flirting with them. Everyone he meets, he gets their phone number. He’s troublingly charming, and everyone I know who knows him seems to have a crush on him.

It’s also troubling when he says things like this regarding his sexuality: “I don’t know what I am. I’m bi.”

I don’t mind bisexual guys. Actually, I prefer them. But Blue does not strike me as the wild, sexually ambiguous type. He has all the markings of a fresh out of the closet, guilt-ridden Christian boy, and who wants to deal with that?

Then, on Friday night, we were at a diner, debating whether or not to split a chocolate egg cream (neither of us had ever had one) and “Leather and Lace” came on the radio. I sighed like a little girl. Loving a song is like having your heart broken a lot. Every time you hear it its like little layers of your heart get peeled away and it hurts a little, but also feels amazing.

“Is this your song?” Blue asked. “I love this song. You sing the Stevie part and I’ll sing the Don Henley part.”

I didn’t get home until 6:30 in the morning, but I smiled the whole way there.