But mostly I thought about Jenny

I haven’t written in a long time, and I really need to. Or do a good Forrest-style run, perhaps.

Laura Laura Laura. I miss her so much, yet hate the thought of her. I want to call her up and… scream at her, ask for her back, and tell her she’s a slutbag all at once. I want to hate hate hate, yet then I think less of myself for hating.

A little part of me hates all women now, classifying them as either slutty bitches with education or dumb sweethearts without it. Or slutty dummies, I guess. They exist too.

There’s so little forgiveness left in my heart, and so little love in my soul.

I sought out Lauren R this past weekend, because she’s raw and her rough edges, while perhaps more exaggerated, aren’t really all that different from my own. And I like that rawness, that bluntness, the acknowledgement of anger, the free expression of distrust, the acceptance of the evil in the world and the sometime-daily struggle that is getting up in the morning and simply making good decisions.

We talked about Laura cheating on me, and Lauren’s CEO dad calling me, and both wondered aloud how our two weeks of bliss two years ago went to so much shit so fast.

I miss her — Laura. And I think less of myself for that very emotion. How dare such a vile form of life be given so much of my energy, how foolish am I to have squandered my now-scarce affections so freely.

I wish I were a better person. I wish I could constantly be beat up by love and somehow still not be bitter.

Secrets

I missed (Slutbag) a lot this morning. I don't know why. I even went and checked her myspace profile to see about any updates... I guess she went to Vegas last weekend.

She's a slutbag and a whore, and not worthy of my affection or appreciation.

But I still miss her.

Today

I erased her number. I couldn't quite bring myself to erase her photos, but I'm getting a new phone soon anyway, and that will be that.

Something I don't think I'll admit to anyone, though? Even Spencer?

I still miss her a lot. I feel a tiny little bit teary just now as I write that.

I'm still glad she's gone. Sorta.

Private postings

Ok, so I went out eating/pubbing/clubbing and danced my ass off with a very pretty young lady only to find that she had a boyfriend. I don't know what I wanted... certainly I wasn't up for a one night stand... she didn't give that vibe at all, and there were lots of girls who would've [probably] been up for that.

I guess i just wanted approval from a girl. It's both sweet/endearing and pathetic at the same time. I wanted it because it makes me feel good, because sometimes I look externally for that "good enough" feeling, because I just want so badly to be loved and held and cherished and appreciated.

Ah crap. I had the inclination, just now, to call my ex. Then I had the inclination to listen to some Cold Play so I could cry. Then I thought that, maybe, it would be a good idea to call one of the new girls in my life -- so pretty, so sweet, so perfect in the bliss that is the potential before the reality of selfishness (hers) sets in.

You know what? Fuck that. I deserve a good girl who can make me feel that way -- appreciated, cherished, and loved. I give it back tenfold. Hell yeah. That's not even that much to ask. Someone who can't give that to me, well, just isn't that into me. Fuck that shite.

A girl named Robin

It looks like I'm getting the brush-off... while I'm inclined to wait a couple of days and see for sure, it's just not my way. The pattern of talking every day abruptly ended yesterday, and I've done the standard two attempts... I'm pretty sure that if you were still interested in me, I'd have heard from you at least lightly... a text message or an email, for instance.

Of course, if you're just really sick, or had to fly to Romania to rescue a long lost cousin, then... well, this will still seem really endearing. :-) And if you're sick, you shoulda called me so I could've come made some vegetable soup for you, damn it!

Anyway. I normally wouldn't bother writing something like this to someone I went out with twice, but I must admit I'm really confused. I like you a lot, and I thought that we had a lot of potential. I'm very disappointed that you didn't share my optimism. I found you beautiful, spunky, smart, graceful, and witty. I noted the similarities in how we experienced the socioeconomic chasm in our early years, the methods we've discovered to get ahead (my financial dodge-the-question routine was to avoid telling you I own ## houses, btw -- I could teach you a lot on that particular subject -- it's sorta my gold-digger avoidance policy), the shock of being on our own as a teenager, and the absence of a solid father figure. I saw how we're both sensitive people, scared of real intimacy because of our growing cynicism, yet wanting it so badly. And I saw that we both like the world around us and value the contributions we can make to it.

Most of all, I believed that we might (time would have told) be emotionally, intellectually, physically (wasn't making out heavenly? sigh...), and even financially compatible. The spiritual side... well, we never got that far, but 4 outta 5 was enough for me to have a lot of optimism. I know it's easy to dismiss the possibility after 10 hours on the phone and couple of dates, but what if? Seriously... the kind of connection we found just on the phone is not something that happens every day.

Now, in typical fashion, I've of course overanalyzed my behavior. Now, I certainly should have left Friday night... that's obvious at this point. But I didn't know any better, and I didn't actually hear from you that it was me... anyway. I felt really bad, but I didn't know what to do. Getting up and leaving might have offended you just as much as staying for all I knew... bleah. After Saturday I sorta just assumed that sleeping over would not be something we tried again for awhile. I guess I was right! (insert pouty, sarcastic face here -- the kind that breaks into a chuckle in half a second)

And then I thought about being late, but I think I'm ok with that... the golden rule applies, right, and I'd have been perfectly ok with that scenario if the roles were reversed.

What I'm finally left with is that I must've seemed too intense. The whole routine of spoiling you (food + massage = spoiling ;-) and calling you affectionate names so quickly... sigh. What can I say, I'm a driven, ambitious person, and when I see something I want, I go after it. I like you a lot... and I thought that you had similar feelings, so I didn't see any harm in it. (Ironically, if I wasn't that into you, we'd probably be chatting on the phone right now, since there'd have been no intensity. Bleah!)

I guess... the basic question I have is "what's the deal?" Did my intensity scare you? Did you like me too much, as in, if you let yourself, we'd move way to fast to the point of possibnly being unhealthy (that thought crossed my mind)? If so, are you still somewhat interested and just not sure?

Or, if you've decided with certainty to pass on exploring our potential as a couple, why? Was it something I said or did? Even if you never want to talk to me again, I would find your reasoning really helpful for my own personal growth.

I hope this isn't goodbye, but if it is, good luck in your travels, in your quest for love, and your financial success. I wish you only the best.

PS You know I'd have spoiled you rotten. In every way. ;-) We could have had an awful lot of fun together even if it didn't work out long-term.

Small Victories

Sometimes it seems like i forget to record the good things I do, the moments of triumph when I get over something or demonstrate growth.

Last night Slutbag text messaged me a hello. I texted her back, saying I wouldn't be calling her for another hour because I was out drinking with my UK buddies. When I did call her, she was watching Spanglish and wishing I was there. "I'd really like to be in your arms right now," she said. I didn't get an emotional high off of it. I let it be, telling her that I'd be happy to snuggle with her when I got back next week. No sentiments of missing her, no reminding her that she chose this path, and no internal rejoicing at her "need" of me.

"What are we going to do?" she asked at one point.

"I don't know," I responded, and for once I didn't wonder if we might get back together. I didn't long for some feeling of belonging long since past and ever elusive.

I felt a little bad, but I reminded myself that she is seldom there for me. That she deserves to feel this way, that she chose this, that I am not at her beck and call.

Then I got off the phone with her and called Robin. :-) For a girl I haven't even met yet, I sure am excited about her.

Lonely weekend

I went out with Sarah Sperry Friday night. The date was great -- she came to my place, we had sushi, shared some alcohol, and made out on my couch. After she left, I dreamt about Lolo. I woke up a wreck, not wanting to face the world or myself. I was forced into action by duty and professionalism, meeting a client midday. Then I went to the gym, met Shane for basketball, and proceeded to stay for two hours after he left. Talk about channeling your passion. I got invited to courtside Warriors seats by Tony, the Raiders trainer from Houston. I declined. Then I got invited to a holiday party with Corban. He told me I needed a date, so I called every girl in my phone, hit on the weekend receptionist at the gym, and even called Rachel. She invited me out with her friends, which is where I ended up. Basically, I kept myself busy. A multitude of invitations, a dozen rooms full of people, and I still went through the entire weekend feeling alone. Today I woke up the same way. I don't think my dreams were so vivid, because I missed her less, but I still didn't want to face the world. I tried to go back to sleep twice. I suppose the good thing about sleeping on the floor is that your bed isn't comfortable enough to keep swallowing you into it. When I finally emerged from the cocoon that would no longer accept me, I did business and called back a girl or two out of duty. I made a date for tonight, only to break it two hours later. I made a date for Tuesday night, too, which I'm breaking tomorrow morning if I still feel this way. I cried today. Twice. Once after my shower, as I stood in front of my closet and wondered what shirt to wear. (Yesterday SUCKED on the clothing tip, btw. I put on two shirts on two different occasions and pulled Burckey hair off of my shoulders. Who knew that it would stick even through the dryer?) The second time was just a moment ago -- some sappy song turned up on iTunes and had to go scream into my pillow for a minute. Rachel reminded me last night that Lauren did exactly what I predicted she would do -- change her mind about me the moment I committed. Just like she'll call the moment I stop missing her. You know the biggest secret? A little tiny part of me likes crying. I'm not sure if it's because it's familiar and comfortable. The psychoanalyst would probably say so. But maybe it's just because it makes me feel human -- fallible, hopeful (wouldn't be here without that wager of hope), still able to love. The Killers' "Smile Like You Mean It" just spun up on iTunes. Damn you, Burckey. Damn you. I'm gonna go cry again for a little while.