So, today I walked by a laundromat, and caught a strong whiff of hot air and fabric softener. In fifteen years of life, I have never once been inside a Laundromat. They smell like safe places to me, but there could easily be pedophiles that don’t have washing machines in every Laundromat you come across. But I’ve always associated the smell of fabric softener with safety since I knew how it smelled. This may possibly be why.

I first saw him at nerd camp on the second day, but didn’t speak to him because he was 20 feet away, carrying a bass case. He was all in black except for a rather colorful tie, and had very long brown hair. A closer look at him revealed that he was a dead ringer for a young David Gilmour, except he was a bit taller and heavier. I, being the Floydian that I am, think that young Gilmour was extremely pretty. So the next day I talked to the guy, telling him my name and that he looked like David Gilmour. (I left out the ‘I think David Gilmour was sexy’ part.) He told me his name. He was from Virginia and he thought Pink Floyd was awesome, but he was a jazz person. I talked to him more over the next few days, and I found out that he was in marching band and was pretty much the only liberal in a town of conservatives in the middle of nowhere. His approval rating went way up.

During the first dance, I slow danced with him once, (my first slow dance!) and found out that he smelled like fabric softener. He explained to me later that no one at home used it, so he used Franklin and Marshall’s free supply liberally. He was taller and wider than me, so whenever he hugged or danced with me, I’d get a smell of it. In his arms during “Nightswimming,” I felt extremely safe. I had known him for only three days, but apparently this was the way things happened at nerd camp. The next day, during the second dance, I couldn’t find him during the first slow song, and decamped to the balcony of the ASFC a few songs later. He found me up there, and told me that he had been looking for me during “Iris.” I promised him the next slow one, but wanted to stay where I was in case the next song was a rave. Next song turned out to be “In Your Eyes,” and I danced with him to my favorite canon song, on the ASFC balcony. The rest of the night is a blur in my mind.

Over the next few days, we spoke little. He was drawing away from me, and I had no idea why. We remained friends, and I lent him a dress for Second Saturday, but I felt like it was a different guy than the one I had danced with on the balcony. I found out why as soon as I got home; he was in a relationship already with a girl at home. I was angry for a while, but later understood why he hadn’t told me. I wish I had known before. Now, it leads me to wonder-why ever did he dance with me, or act somewhat non-platonically towards me? Was I just a pretty girl at camp that he danced with because he could, or did he actually feel something for me? Those are questions that I will probably never know the answers to. All I know is; if he actually did feel something for the four days, it was the first time any feelings of mine, however inconsequential they are in the grand scheme of things, were reciprocated.

If you’re reading this, and you know who you are, I have no regrets, and hope that. Tell the girlfriend that a random girl from camp sends her regards, and she’s a lucky girl. And, if I ever become a director, and a scene in my movies features a couple dancing on a balcony to Peter Gabriel, thank you for the inspiration.


~ by Luna on September 17, 2008.

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