Boundary establishment -- first steps.

I went out with this girl three times. She was great, but far too busy. In the month we chatted, she was sick twice, out of town twice, and worked her arse off all the time. Part of finding what you want and/or need is denying people who don't fit, right?

This is in reply to her cancelling on something. She had asked if I could get together 'next Monday', which meant a couple of days ago.

Another one bites the dust. C'est La Vie.

---

I'm sorry I never followed up. I've been pretty reclusive, actually -- falling back on the work/gym daily routine.

Brutal honesty? I sorta feel like you don't have time for a boy in your life. Or, you do, but it would be one of those barely-once-a-week routines, and while it could be fun (you're still cute/fun/smart of course), I suppose (yes, i'm conflicted about sending this) I'm looking for something more.

I guess I feel like it wouldn't make me happy. Either we date for a couple of months and I really like you and feel in last place (bleah), or we never really take each other seriously and devolve into just friends or the friends-with-benefits routine.

So... (gulp) at this point I'm not interested in pursuing anything.

I suppose if I have it all wrong and you've just been selectively unavailable in an effort to stay mysterious, let me know. I'd be glad to give it another shot.
Or look me up once you make partner and you get your work schedule under 70 hours a week. :-)

In any event, I sincerely hope you stay happy and healthy. I also hope you find whatever it is your looking for in a partner. I'm also very open to staying friends and would be delighted to join you as an escort to any social engagement.

She Called

It was a drunk dial.

"What are you doing?"

I'm in on a street corner in San Francisco. What are you doing?

"I... I'm reaaaaaaally drunk. I went out tonight and then we came back and drank some more... Are you in Austin?"

(chuckle) No, babe, I'm in San Francisco.

"Ohhhhhh. Well, I wish you were here. I miss you. Why won't you come visit me?

I'd love to come visit you, L------. Why haven't you called and told me this? I'd have come to visit you ages ago if I knew you wanted me to.

"Well, I really miss you. You need to come. Come stay with me... oh... hold on a second..."

(background noise increases)
(line drops)

--

Of course, today I received this via email:

Hey, I'm really sorry to do this but you need to know what's up. I woke up this morning with a text from you and it kind of confused me so I did some research and found out what happened. A few of my girlfriends came in town this weekend and when I passed out last night one of them thought it would be a good idea to call everyone in my phone and really screw up some shit. I've been doing damage control all morning because although they think it's really funny I'm sure a lot of people got hurt, especially me. The person who called you from my phone last night was (...). She knows our whole story and probably thought it was hilarious in her inebriated state to stir up some shit. I cannot express to you how sorry I am, I'm not even sure what was said but I feel absolutely horrible about it. I really can't fix it because I wasn't even aware it was happening, but I did want to at least write you an e-mail to tell you the truth about the situation. Again, please please understand how sorry I am about last night. I hope everything is going well with you.

Sincerely,
...
--

I called today, after reading her message, got voice mail, and then just hit reply, sending a conciliatory message. No big deal, no harm done, ha ha, I miss you fwiw, keep in better touch.

I lied.

I feel more alone than ever today. Sad. Despondent. The way I've been feeling for the last two and a half months only with a little added salt in the wounds.

And today, sitting at my local Peet's, consuming the only drug I don't feel bad about having every day (but appreciate oh-so-much), I got a little angry. Angry at myself for raising one eyebrow when I saw her incoming call last night. Angry at the world for creating the situation in the first place. Angry at women in general for never following through. Angry at myself again for being angry at women, the world, and even at her, because the truth is that none of them really hurt me that badly. Two women did, perhaps. My bitch/whore/cheating ex that I'm over, but still wounded by (being over her is a lot different from being over what she did to me), and my wonderfully absent mother.

That same cheating whore of an ex said to me once or twice that "knowing how much you distrust women did make me want to prove to you that there were good women out there by being great, but it's this huge burden, too. It's too much of you to ask of any woman."

I'm sure you were thinking just that when you cheated, too, right? Whore.

But I digress. Goddamn it.

I want to cry, but I don't feel like I have anything to cry about. Some dumb chick who cheated on me over a year ago? Some silly little girl who I went out with for a month? Getting abandoned when I was 3? What the fuck is that juvenile shit, anyway?

And that just makes me angry again -- telling myself "grow the fuck up" or "man up" or whatever. That my sadness is foolish and uncalled for, that my feelings are inappropriate if not completely irrelevant.

@!(#*$^(####!

I was just lamenting a couple of days ago to a friend about how success has changed the way people approach me. There's this perception that I can absorb anything, that I don't need anyone, that I have all the answers.

The ironic part is that I've never felt more lost. More alone. More... sad.

I need guidance, love, and support now more than ever. And everyone looks at me like this superhero. I'm a millionaire, I get to retire at 30, I'm hot, I can get laid whenever I want, I play a good game of basketball, I can run a mile in six minutes, I know how to dance... I work so hard at being perfect just for acceptance, and I think I felt more accepted when I was looked at like a clumsy dumb kid with a cocky streak. They laughed at me for talking about how successful I was going to be ("You? Buy a house? But don't you work at Denny's?! Okaaaaaay..."), but somehow it was acknowledged that I was working my ass off, and even if I wasn't going to be as successful as I hoped, that was respectable.

Now everyone just wants to fuck me. Tenants hustle me on rent, clients hustle me on work/pay, woman hustle me for sex (why do y'all assume you can't have me for anything else, put me on a pedestal, then just disappear when I actually express interest in putting you on a pedestal too? Sheesh!), and my friends hustle me for support (except for spencer, it all seems to flow one way these days, and even his support is often at arm's length).

Sigh.

--

I just want to be loved. And, just once, just one fucking time in my whole life, I don't want to have to work for it. I don't want to have to pay somehow, whether that means the dance of courtship (I hate the two day rule too, ladies, but I do it because it fucking works), providing emotional support, buying an unreciprocated round of drinks, or just doing the high-maintenance routine of pushing the metrosexual envelope.

I just want it for free.

I want to wear baggy, non-designer jeans and not pay the check sometimes. I want to go out with my friends and not talk about chicks. I want my mom to call me even if my brother isn't in town, even if someone hasn't asked about me, even if she doesn't need advice on buying a car or refinancing her condo. I'm so sick of being judged, so annoyed at the burden of performing on the stage that is the world.

I want S. to look at me and NOT think that my malaise is because I haven't found Jesus yet. Just be my fucking friend.

I want F. to look at me and not talk about money. Mine, his, whatever. I have debt, you have debt, whatever. Just be my fucking friend.

I want C. to not take solace in my despondency, excusing his own snails-pace of making decisions and taking action because, see, look at JJ -- Happiness is unachievable even if you're a fucking superhero. Just be... oh fuck it.

I want S. to not look to me for inspiration, then be disappointed in me when I fall in love with his girlfriend's little sister after two weeks. Or express an interest in retiring so I can be a kid for awhile. I'd do anything to feel appreciated every day, jackass. How about you respect me and be my friend even if I feel needy sometimes? Never mind the laundry list of actual reasons L. and I got along so well. Just be... yeah. There's nothing weak about wanting to be with someone. There's actually, I think, something weak/wrong with insisting that you don't need anyone.

I want D. to call me and check up on me like she used to. I know you're busy, and I know I'm supposed to be a grown-up now, and I know you have dozens of other kids to take care of now who need you more than I do, but goddamn it, it's not getting any better, and I still need you.

Therapy is done for now. I'm hungry.

See, I'm not the only one

Love 2.0

"Yet how to meet a mate? They are getting too old to cruise trendy Yelp parties or to ride the N-Judah in hopes of getting picked up on Craigslist's "Missed Connections." They haven't found a single drinking establishment between Palo Alto and San Jose that serves up a better ratio of men to women than Anchorage, Alaska. They frequently are too busy to devote enough time to online dating services. Meanwhile, the friends who used to set them up with eligible singles have peeled off in minivans lined with child safety seats and Slurpee-resistant upholstery."

I've said it a million times, and I'll say it again: the Bay Area is the WORST place on the planet to meet someone of substance.

test entry (freely ignore)

Shout out: Referer Testing

Shout out: Referer Testing

Lots of match.com activity

I'm no longer a paying member of match.com, but the sudden increase in feminine interest in the past 48 hours is striking.

I've been hit on 4 times just since last night.

Everybody wants a date for Valentine's Day. Sheesh. I wonder if it will be a slow day on the basketball court this Wednesday?

I guess I'll find out. :-)

Things I want to say to a woman someday

This is a fantasy, but it's good. If Churchill was right, that words in and of themselves are powerful; if Napoleon Hill was right, and that focus can effectuate reality, then this is... an expression of hope.

I love you. I love you for the person you are without me. You are strong, independent, ambitious, and proud. You stop to talk to bums on the street occasionally and have given your leftovers away to more than one of them. You simultaneously have the street smarts to know not to approach a group of them alone in your heels or hand out cash.

You can analyze logically, noting nuances in behavior that others miss. You can debate with me and like doing so just because. You debate with everyone a little bit, in fact.

Your hope and faith in the world, in humanity, and in yourself is infectious and without end. When I look at you -- just your being you, without any interactions with me -- I actually believe the world is a better place. I furthermore believe that I am a better man just because I get to associate with you.

You're genuinely nice to everyone. Sometimes I worry about your safety, it's true, despite how much faith I have in you, because you care so much about your fellow man that you might be taken advantage of someday. Your seemingly blind faith comes out in other ways, like forgetting your wallet when we go out, or not checking the pre-packaged salad at the grocery store for freshness.

I am special to you because I empower your hope. Because I am a doer, an achiever, and problem solver, together our kung fu is synergistic. You hope enough for the both of us, overcoming my cynicism, fear, and loneliness. I take that faith and literally move mountains with it. This starts with remembering things you forget, and includes things like organizing your goals into achievable chunks.

Metaphorically, you convince me I can fly. I go out and build a fucking airplane.

Aside from the worldly attributes, I love you for the way you look at me. You know my flaws (grumpy in the morning, impatient with nonsensical delays, fear of abandonment, need for regular reassurance) and embrace them, not as necessary evils, but because they're simply hurdles to jump. You didn't need the manual, but appreciate that I gave it to you (solutions: coffee, a pep talk driving focus away from tasks I cannot control, simply sticking around, and a longing look twice a day). You truly, really, knowingly, maturly appreciate me and I know it every time you touch me.

Every day I look at you, I think you more beautiful. I appreciate you more every time I watch you interacting with your surroundings. I do this because you're just so damn Good.

We look at each other and can't help but admire. You admire me for the things I work at and have been noticed for -- my ambition, brains, athleticism -- but even moreso for the things I'm not even aware of.

You're simultaneously humble about your own brilliant glow. You might think that I love you for your figure, for your wit, for busting my balls on a regular basis, for appreciating me, but I love you more because you, by example, show me, and everyone else, just how much good there really is in the world. You leave the world a better place every single day, and you don't even know it.

In your eyes, everyone does what you do, everyone helps their fellow man, everyone wants to explore and grow and learn and thrive. And loves.

And when I look at the world through your eyes, I believe it too.

We inspire each other. We create together. You are my best friend. You can give me butterflies anytime you want.

I am all of these things to you as well. I can make your heart smile by just winking at you.

We complete one another.