The Tennis Guy

I broke it off with him, remember?

I was.. Confused. Tired. Wanting-to-have-something-new. Selfish. Self-centered.

This Tennis Guy. He was in my Literature class.  I enrolled on my own to see how it would be to go to a class without anyone I knew.  Funny thing is that I still ended up being classmates with my closest guy buddies.

We were group mates for our project. It was a play and it required long hours of practice. Well two to three hours with people you do not really know is long. So yes, there.

I kind of liked him even before we actually talked. Athletic. He played for the school's tennis team and he represented the country in international amateur tournaments.

Shortly after my break-up, I caught myself talking and hanging out with him a lot. So much that my guy buddies started to notice. They hated him. For obvious reasons, he had a lot of air. Literally and figuratively. He was a full-time ego-tripper who loved to talk about himself. I did not mind though. For some reason, I loved to listen.

I brought him to eat and hangout with my friends even if I knew they were not completely happy with it.

What I liked most was that he never made a move. You know, like move move. It seemed that he was just there to talk. At least that's what I think and feel.

He had to leave to attend school overseas. He got an athletic scholarship and was going to study there for free.

That was the end of it. I hear from him every now and then but there is nothing there anymore.