No soup for you.

When I was a freshman in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my university class. He was tall, blond, and gorgeous. He wanted to be a plastic surgeon and thought the class was a joke. I was the nerd who took it seriously, and would try to get his attention by being vocal in class.

The next semester we had biology together, it changed from me passing him and saying hi to him (he later told me he thought I was REALLY annoying) to me sitting next to him - I was such a stalker. We still never spoke, and I still had a huge crush. I vowed to get his attention.

Sophmore year, we had more sciences together. We were in organic together. This was the year I started to grow up a little. Freshman year... I had no confidence, a high school sweetheart I was breaking up with, and I lived at home. Sophmore year I joined the "hottest" sorority on campus, ("Wow, they think I'm pretty enough to get in!"), had boys asking me out, and moved out of the parents house. I had an pinning party one night and invited him out. Soon we started studying together and going to parties together. I would stay out late and start falling asleep in class only to wake up with drool on my face and him doodling stupid cartoons on my notes laughing about the stupid things I had done while drunk. He told me about his life during our all night study sessions and then informed me he had joined the armed forces... two weeks later 911 happened.

I freaked out a little, I had been infatuated with him from over a year now, and somehow before he left for bootcamp it all came together and my dreams came true. We made out and cuddled, and then he left.

I was hopelessly in love. I wrote him all the time, and would check the mail for his bootcamp letters (I still have them) telling me about all his shenanigans. The first ones told me he missed home, the last ones were more cold and rigid. By the time I saw him again between the break, it wasn't the same - but he was still my dreamboy.

He left for training, and would call me every saturday from a pay phone drunk(this is before the whole cell phone thing). By this time I had finished my sophomore year and was working in a restaurant to pay off my car, and my school. He would call before leaving for the club, I of course thought it was because we were in some way together, even though we weren't. I never kissed any other boys, I thought it might mess up my chances with my dreamboy -- god I was so naive.

He came back the beginning of junior year, and it was horrible. He didn't pay attention to me, and was... mean. By mean I don't mean mean to me - I mean he had gained 50 pounds of muscle, shaved his head, and would constantly start fights at parties I took him to. He would stare people down and act like he didn't care about a soul in the world. I didn't like him much anymore - but when he'd get drunk and we'd talk, I'd convince myself that he was still there. I made it my mission to take him everywhere with me, I was his only friend in college left, I would bring the old him back.

We took most of our electives together, but where as I moved on to harder classes, he resumed his sophomore semester. I still found it difficult to talk to him, as he was pessimistic and bitter -- so one day I sat down and wrote him a letter expressing every deep dark emotion I'd ever had for him. After holding on to it for two weeks I shoved it into his hand when he dropped me off and ran away. He never really mentioned it, and we practically stopped talking - unless it was for an assignment. Then he told me he was leaving for Iraq, and again, I freaked out.

He left the day after his 21st birthday. We threw him a surprise birthday party, and I paid a fraternity boy for the case of beer we got him. I made him a cake, he gave me his cover, and I cried.

Then he left, and I sat there heartbroken telling myself that one day - ONE DAY - he was going to want me, and he wouldn't be able to have me. I built myself up saying that I didn't need someone who didn't appreciate me. (*can I just jump in here now and say, DAMN I WAS SUCH A WHINER WITH NO SELF CONFIDENCE!!! UGH, SO ANNOYING!*)

Flash forward till today. He came back, and by that time I was dating the psycho. Dreamboy dated many of my sorority sisters (sorry, slept with, not dated) and crash on my couch for a year (yes, it was supposed to only be a month). By the end of our little stint we had begun to hate each other. I graduated college, and he was still in sophmore standing. We didn't speak for 3 years, and somehow, while I was out of country we built up communication again.

He's leaving for Iraq again - and decided he would come up to see me. Friday night we went out. He looked just like he did when I first met him. No shaven head, no huge muscles, no meanness, he just had his quirky humor and some beer. It was awkward at first, but after the first couple of beers we ended up having a good night. By the time we'd called each other out about our little fight and made amends - I was exhausted. I brought him out blankets and headed to my bed to pass out for the 3 hours I had before getting up to go to work.

He comes into my room to say good night, leaned over my bed for the hug, goes to kiss the cheek and... stays... lingering... "BAAD NO NO NO BAD BAD BAD BAD" was all I could really say, with him whispering, "I know I know" before leaning back in to try to kiss me, "NOOOO NO NO NO REALLY REALLY BAD, BAD BAD BAD BAD."

...

THE MOTHER FUCKER TRIES TO GET BACK WITH ME.

After the initial bad's and no's, he ended up bringing his blanket into my room and tried to start some kind of conversation with me while setting up shop on the floor. I think I fell asleep somewhere in the convo where he was telling me about how he missed me, and though I don't remember the specifics, it dealt with me always being there for him and how he always thought we'd end up together.

I still think he's my dream boy - but damn, when the whole turning them down after they've broken your heart thing happens, YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU CAN ENJOY IT.

Now I just feel bad... oops.