Ryan with a Y

One Sunday in July, we were at church in the lovely afternoon. A few reasonably attractive boys decided to sit behind my roommates and I in sacrament meeting. We made some small talk and conversation, and they introduced themselves to us as Caleb and Ryan (with a Y.)

I pointed out that it was funny that he felt a need to go out of his way to note that his name has a Y in it. We told him that we would forever call him that entirely-- "Ryan with a Y." We bantered back and forth for a few minutes, flirting a bit before sacrament started.

Once we were back at our apartment, he happened to walk by our front door and popped in to say hello. We all talked a bit more, and he ended up staying and going to a park with us that night just for kicks and giggles. Afterwards, we all were in my living room watching episodes of Monk. Ryan and I ended up cuddling on the couch, holding hands, blah blah whatever. You know the drill.

We exchanged numbers. I heard nothing for another month.

One night in late August, I was outside on the phone with my Dad and had just hung up, when I ran into Ryan with a Y. He asked if I would help him search for his social security card in his car. I said sure, and we took a few minutes to find it.

Somehow or another, I found myself in his apartment at 1am.

And about a half hour later, I found myself kissing him. About 5 minutes after that, I found myself ferociously making out with him.

And still an hour after that.

About a half hour after THAT, I found myself somehow on the floor... but continuing.

And an hour after that.

Come to think of it, I didn't find myself in my own apartment until around 4am.

Funny how that happens, huh?

Oh life.