That hope thing

I’ve decided I’m a hope whore. I’m cynical enough so that I basically never have hope in the first place, with anyone, but every once in awhile circumstance and serendipity toss it on my lap and I can’t help but feel it.

Then I get a little psycho. I become a little needy, obsessively attentive, and basically worship the ground she walks on. I overlook little clues that I’m coming on too strong, that she really isn’t as wonderful as I’m imagining she is, and that in another week or two I’m going to be left wondering what the heck happened.

It’s a pretty rare occurrence — that cynicism thing keeps my hope in check and the alfie playbook actually allows things to grow organically to a point — but it still happens once in awhile.

And I still feel like a big fat idiot.

FTW. Or not.

Yeah, so, I’ve been home less than a week and ended the membership with my female representation in two area codes.

Well, sorta. I told a partial truth to one of them, and was critical of another. Basically I’m ending relationships because I can’t stop thinking about LB.

I keep telling myself it’s fantasy, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like Zach Braff at the end of Garden State. I just keep wishing I’d turned right around in Austin last week and not come back.

So… I broke a date with Sarah last night. I knew she’d want to have sex and I just couldn’t face that.

I went out with Dawn on Wednesday. FTW, huh? She was stressed out and bitchy as hell. I kept looking across the table at her and wishing she were Burckey. Then I challenged her, asking her if she was passionate about anything but her work and her literature. Then I asked if there were any room in her life for a guy like me.

She apologized at the end of the night “for being bitchy and distant” — after I’d so nicely massaged her despite my urge to just get the hell out of there.

Quite a disconcerting change from last week when I thought she was the one. Instead of a sophisticated, brilliant woman who was focused and driven, I saw a bitchy, judgmental, self-centered woman who was lacking depth and hunger. I’ve been asking myself if it was me sabotaging things for my real desire to be Lauren, or her just showing her true colors. I think it was more about the latter than the former — especially combined with my newfound joy at being really appreciated by someone (god, I love that about her).

So much for Future Trophy Wife. Sigh. I called her the next day in an effort to reassure and got her voice mail. She hasn’t called back yet, and I don’t think she will. C’est la vie.

Then tonight I saw Alison. We went to sushi, had a great time, and she came back to my place and wanted to have sex. I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the desire at all. As she was sitting there next to me hinting at it, I just kept wishing I were with Lauren.

So I told her. Not the whole truth, although “you know the movie Garden State? Well, I found my Natalie Portman back in Austin” certainly crossed my mind. I told her I was confused and that I wasn’t ready for anything serious, and that I was reticent to get into anything, especially with someone like her, who deserves to be treated well. Of course, I verified first that she was looking for a relationship, because that was my out.

I figured that was nicer than, “I’m not into you, I never will be, and I just want to fly 1800 miles right now to spend the night with the girl I am enamored with.” Ya think?

Goddamn it I miss Lauren. I did NOT expect to feel this way. I look at her picture every day, she’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, and I want to call her 10 times a day just to hear her voice.

If Thanksgiving goes well, I’m going to take her seriously. Commit to her seriously. Move across the country seriously.

I can’t believe I’m talking this way, but I don’t care. It’s nuts and crazy, but it feels so good.