Dating and such

I'm always reticent to speak about this topic in such an open forum, because I'm single, and single guys, by the very definition, are always looking, even if it's only a little.

The thing is, the very status of "single" has been on my mind a lot over the past week or so. I've got a crush, and it's placed a heavy burden on my normally cool, laid back self. It's easy to date often when there's not a lot of emotional involvement, but what do you do when you actually might want to buy the cow (see previous post, it's not a negative analogy)?

So, yeah, I'm feeling like a little bitch (as opposed to my normal smooth, or, at least, charmingly all-business, self).

I guess the reason I'm feeling like a little bitch is because I'm hoping again, so it's not all bad. It's pretty damn scary, though. I mean, I don't like being bitter and jaded, nor angry and cynical, but it sure is a safe place to be. Women can't hurt you if you never really expose yourself to them.

I'm not sure how to proceed. Writing off whatever hopefulness I have as childish or immature would be really easy and safe, but leaving myself open could carry such a prize.

There's also that nagging little problem that "leaving myself open" means I'm having trouble following the pimpin' rulebook. I mean, I wrote the damn thing (ok, we got "don't call for two days" from Swingers, but other than that, Alfie definitely deserves a byline), but I want to break those damn rules 10 times a day!

Someone told me not too long ago that if I'm not open, that if I just let myself be jaded, then my cheating ex wins. I remember responding with something like "since when is it a competition", which is totally valid, but perhaps I missed the point.

Maybe having a crush is just a visible sign that I'm "over it"?

Aha! There's the internal debate. Is my crush a symptom of growth, like the above would imply, or is it me slipping back into immature habits? Is this crush based on the fact that this chick is friggin' cool, or is it because deep down I know she'll treat me like shit? Or, at least, be emotionally unavailable and unappreciative?

I guess I already have my answer. Be myself, which means following most of the rulebook still and keeping my options open, but give her a fair shot. Aside from be ing completely present with her (I always am, that's part of "charming") and cherishing the hope that I thought was gone forever, let my guard down (and rip pages out of the rulebook) slowly. Oh, and it's ok to place some hope in her. I can handle it if she dismisses me.

(Am I killing my game if I admit I really hope this works out? Arrrrrgh!)

--

It's weird. In re-reading what I've just written, it is striking how much self-doubt I have about my own feelings. Shouldn't I just KNOW that I'm into someone for the right reasons? Or not?

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.