The Thing I Didn't Know I Didn't Know (Russel Middlebrook: The Futon Years Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

it's pure, that it's innocent, and yeah, that it's stupid.
    But here's the thing: it is those things, including the parts about it being strong and pure. Or at least it can be.
    Love hadn't been like that since then, at least not for me. I'd dated a few guys in college, but there wasn't anyone who was particularly memorable and/or not completely crazy. And, well, you already know about the seven or eight times I've done online hook-ups. That was pretty much my love life over the last few years—about as satisfying as the rest of my life.
    Kevin and I had gotten together for good in the spring of my junior year. And then we'd dated all through the rest of high school, and the summer following it too.
    And it had been truly wonderful. It's not just that he was hot, or that we had good sex, although he was, and we did. And it's not just that he was a great guy, although he was that too: decent, honest, sensitive, non-crazy. It's how he made me feel, how I acted around him.
    I'd been around plenty of awful couples in my life, some gay and some straight. Even when it wasn't a constant war like it was with Jake and Amanda, it just wasn't very nice to be around. Why did love turn people into such jerks?
    But once in my life, it hadn't been like that. With Kevin. Or maybe it had been, but in reverse. He did or said something nice or thoughtful for me, which inspired me to do something nice or thoughtful for him. It was the opposite of a vicious cycle.
    I don't want to exaggerate things. I mean, we had problems. We could both be pissy and insecure (especially me). We took each other for granted. Once I'd borrowed his iPod Mini, cracked the plastic, but then pretended it had been fine when I returned it.
    But most of the time, he made me a better person.
    Then we'd gone away to college. He'd gotten a baseball scholarship out of state. It was a great opportunity, and I wasn't about to let him pass it up, but I couldn't afford to follow him. I moved to Seattle and went to the University of Washington with Min and Gunnar. Even so, I knew that Kevin's and my love would last. It was just that strong, that pure, that innocent, and yeah, that stupid.
    We Skyped and chatted and texted, and we saw each other on breaks and vacations. But I still lived near our hometown, so it was always him coming home to see me . And when, after a year or so, he didn't come home for every little vacation, I started to feel resentful.
    We still Skyped and chatted and texted.
    But I guess we started to change. He had his friends, most of whom I'd never even met. I had my friends. For a while, I didn't mind all the backstory that was required to make what he was telling me make sense. Then more and more it started to feel like a hassle.
    Basically, my pissy, insecure side started to win out over my nice, thoughtful one. And as great as Kevin was, he changed too (probably because I was so pissy and insecure). Suddenly I was one half of one of those couples that I'd always hated spending time around. Only I couldn't volunteer to take the trash out to leave it behind, because I was one half of the problem.
    Then one long weekend he'd said he couldn't come home. I don't even remember the reason, but I'm sure it was a good one. I mean, he'd come home as much as he could.
    So basically, I said, "Fine, don't come home." I'm sure I was hoping he would say, "No, wait! I was wrong! Of course I'll come home!"
    But he didn't. And not only did he not come home, he didn't Skype or chat or text me either. He probably thought I'd been a jerk about the whole thing (which I sorta had been), so he was expecting me to contact him .
    I don't know why I didn't, not at first. I was still hurt, I guess. He'd been the one to not come home, so I expected him to sort of make up for it by being the first to start up the interaction again. But after I while, I mostly forgot about him not coming home for the weekend, and I was just annoyed that he wasn't contacting me. Over a dumb little thing