In Good Fate

When I was in college, only one guy hit on me that I know of. (And a lot of other imaginary dudes, probably personal demons, who were too shy to say a word.)

I was a Junior back then taking up a communication class, if I remember correctly. We were part of the same group for a report, which is how we got to talking. I remembered having no clue about his intentions. He was nowhere near my radar.

One day, he asked me which way I’m headed and I said I have a class in a nearby building. Or did he ask me to go get food first. The memory’s hazy. Anyway, he walked with me saying that his class is on the way. It wasn’t. He just wanted to talk to me, though, I think.

He started sending messages. As anyone who knows me will know, I am thrilled with a good conversation. I guess he felt that and tried to make things interesting, only, not in a way I imagined. He told me up front that he has a girlfriend studying in one of the oldest universities in the belt. He also told me he likes me. I guess that was my first icky foray into the confusing world of romance and third parties. My gut reaction was a mixture of amusement at his candor, anger at his poor judgement, and discomfort at being put in the middle of a crazy circumstance. I have no amorous feelings for this guy at all and wish to be no part of his sexual fantasies. And yet, I indulged my curiosity and asked him about how he thinks I should react. This is one hell of a juicy story to tell my block mates, I thought.

He asked, “Do you believe in fate?”

I said we make our own fate. Really, dude, fate? That’s all you have in your ammo?

“I think each of us has our own fate, but the ending changes depending on our decisions.”

To be honest, I have always been closed off to the idea of fate.Having someone whom I have poor confidence in tell me certain possibilities about it caught me off guard. I guess I wasn’t prepared for that question.

Anyway, it didn’t work, mostly because I detest him. I told him to take care of his girlfriend. He told me he just wants to have fun. I never talked to him again and I didn’t even remember his name after that semester.

In his head, I guess he expected me to run off with him because we talked that one time and had the same class that one time. This idea of fate is how he must have planned to convince me that it’s going to be worth it. Too bad, he is of no consequence to me. I guess he tried that gig on others, who, I expect would also see through the bullshit. We study in a state university, damn it. We’re not stupid ladies.

He was a nobody and yet his question remains. Fate, huh.