Faulty memories are sometimes such a pity

One of life's little frustrations is that you never know the moments that will strike you later until long after their gone. There are some exceptions, to be sure -- if I really think about it, I can tell you some pretty good things about most of my birthdays, for instance -- but for the most part, that little smile you got on that first date with a new person flashes right before your eyes and is gone before you even had the chance to remember it. Sometimes those moments happen when you've been drinking, too, and that just upsets things even more. And then, perhaps, like me, you find yourself clinging to shreds of memory based on the song that was playing (like babyface at my first slow dance in eighth grade), the food you were eating, or the smell in the air, or the taste of the beverage in your hand. Sometimes I even remember what she was wearing more than I remember her face. Or, maybe, I'm just scared I don't remember her face correctly, and so the black and grey horizontal stripes just seem more certain by comparison. -- Someone who wasn't even that important to me walked out of my life yesterday. It was a girl I hardly knew, whom I never called beautiful, nor even kissed. I had been lackadaisical, as I have been with all things feminine since... well, if you're still reading, you know when... and she called me on it. I suppose I was disappointed, not because of her persay, but certainly because it forces me to introspect, however briefly, about how and why I've checked out. I wasn't happy in dating overdrive, but I was too busy to be unhappy. And having women -- even women you don't really care about -- do nice things for you still feels really good. I'm not happy being a hermit either, but at least I know I'm not hurting anyone. And I can't get hurt this way, either. The unfortunate thing is, I don't think a partner just drops on your lap. It's become cliche that she falls out of the sky just when you stop looking, but I don't believe it. Napoleon Hill and all that have come after him would say that I'm creating my own dilemma by focusing on what I can't or don't have, that by having faith in my endless singlehood, I'm autosuggesting a self-fulfilling, self-perpetuating prophecy. I struggle a lot with that ideology, because I've put myself out there more than anyone I've ever known. I've been knocking for a long, long time, and when there's only one or two girls out of the last 100 who I really looked forward to seeing after the third date, that's not my problem, that's the dating pool. That's demographics. -- Another of life's frustrations just occurred to me. The little girls I've hurt over the years still take a gander at my incessant whining every once in awhile, but the ones that changed me have filed me in that special place that doesn't include checking up on how I'm doing. I understand. There is the exception of the girl that hurt me the most in the world. She called me not too long ago, and it was definitely not good for me. It's still frustrating. -- Speaking of that @#$%, I am not a Jedi yet. I'm not even sure the force is with me.