How To Tell a Stranger They're Beautiful

Sure, it sounds easy.  Just head on up and say, “Hey there, angel-eyes, is it legal to look that good?”  Splash on some cologne, show off the guns and show a little chutzpah, right?  Nay!  Guess what?  That’s the road to becoming “That Guy”.  In this context, “That Guy” means “Douchebag”, you Douchebag.  Take your unjustified self-confidence and get the hell off of my blog!  (And shave that pencil-thin chin-outline you call a beard, you look lame.  By the way, that tattoo of barbed wire on your arm isn’t “tough-looking”, it says “I’m a bottom”. )

They gone?  Good.  I hate those a-holes.

Where was I?  Oh yeah.  

It really isn’t that easy.  Especially to those of us that don’t have all that douchebag-level of self-confidence.  Plus, if you do just go for broke and say it, you’re not taking into account a number of issues that need to be addressed.  (Trust me, this crap can get complicated.) Luckily for you, I’ve gone and done most of the over-thinking needed. (Don’t thank me, just doing my vastly underpaid job.)

First important issue:  Motivation.

Why have you elected to do this?  This is a much more important issue than you may think, because it is also contains a hidden danger.  If you’re doing it to “impress”, or “get digits”, than that is the campaign trail to be President-Elect of Douchebag-aria and why the hell are you still reading this, I told you to SCRAM!  Douchebag!

Yes, doing this as a pick-up line is a hidden danger.  Because it’s not supposed to be a pick-up line… it’s supposed to be a compliment.  A simple, sincere compliment.(Emphasis on “Sincere”.) If you’re doing this to get in someone’s good graces as an effort to eventually get them naked (or ask them for money, or a recipe, or whatever)… then it immediately becomes “You’re only saying this because you want something.”  Even if you honestly do believe them to be beautiful, the fact of you trying to take it further suddenly makes it sound like complete bullshit. Something that is merely: A means to an end.

This is not supposed to be a means to an end.  It’s supposed to be an end in itself.  You follow me on this?  Hear what I’m talking about?  I’m saying that this is something to which you will receive no reward.  Not even as a long-term plan.  Your return-on-investment on this is NOTHING.  Zero. Nada. Zilch.  A big bowl of “Nut ‘n Honey”, and I’m not talking about the breakfast cereal.

Sincerity is the name of the game here folks.  Like what Linus looks for in a Pumpkin-Patch, there needs to be “Sincerity as far as the eye can see.”  Without it, you’re on the way to becoming the Douchebag (justified or not… just being seen as a Douchebag isn’t a good thing).  

Sure, maybe you’re not a douchebag, but still consider yourself one of those “I don’t care what others think” kind of people.  “So, if they think I’m a douchebag, so what?” Well, for one, that attitude’s getting dangerously close to actually being a douchebag, so I’d start re-thinking some life choices, if I were you.  (Just sayin’)  Second of all, your target’s perception of the situation… is part of the POINT of this exercise.  Here, you have to care what the other person, a complete stranger, thinks at that moment where you say it.  Otherwise:  Mission fail, even if you think it didn’t.

Okay, so why does it have to be a stranger?  What’s wrong with saying it to a friend, or even just someone you know?  Again, sincerity can be a factor.  A compliment like that, even if meant 100%, can be taken with a, “Oh, they’re only just saying that because they’re my friend.”  Or you could get, “Wait a minute, is this person trying to make a move?  I hope they know I only want to be friends, but now it’s all awkward!”  Now granted, it might work out totally in your favor… and there’s nothing wrong with telling your friends that you think they’re beautiful… I’m just saying:  You’re on your own, but good luck.

Well, my motivation comes down to two things:  One, when reading PostSecret, or browsing around on Tumblr, or elsewhere around the internet where strangers find the freedom to express themselves anonymously… I occasionally see a wish posted that says, “I wish a stranger would tell me I’m beautiful.”  I thought… why a stranger?  Well, if a stranger approaches you to say that they are honestly attracted to you physically, then the “beautiful” part starts out honestly.  But if they’re STILL a stranger afterwards, not asking for anything… then it confirms that the only motivation was a true and honest opinion… that you are in fact, beautiful.  There’s a lovely romance in that wish.  And it’s one that I can have the ability grant to others.  (Even sometimes make that wish for myself… even though I don’t consider myself much of a “romantic”.)

Secondly… there are some people that I think really deserve to hear it.

Second important issue:  Location

You do have to pick your location fairly carefully.  You don’t want to do it in an obvious place.  Doing it in a bar or nightclub… why bother?  First of all, it’s hard to hear (which affects later issues)… and for another thing, people that go there are usually all dolled up to the nines TRYING to look like that.  So if that compliment comes, it still going to have the element of “Oh, they’re just saying that because I’m showing all this skin”.  But wouldn’t that compliment mean a little more if you heard it while wearing jeans and a t-shirt, coming out of the post-office, showing no skin and even wearing minimal make-up?  One location is where people are fishing for those kinds of compliments, and the other is where it’s totally unexpected.  Ironically enough, it’ll be more appreciated in the location where it’s a surprise, believe me.

I’ve done this a few times at my gym.  Which is a risky location, I know.  Because people there are “trying” to look good (in a long-term sense), while maybe not necessarily looking “club/bar-level good” at that moment.  Also, you may still see the individual after the compliment is given.  But with the nature of the gym, you can still remain strangers with just about everyone.  Just as long as you’re careful and selective, so you don’t become seen as another “That Guy”.  (In this case, “That Guy That Tries To Pick Up Chicks At The Gym”.  Too many in too short a time, and that’s who you are.) But on the plus side, you can do a bit more pre-observation on the target, so as to make a slightly more informed choice on whether or not the individual is worthy of receiving said compliment.

Which brings me to the third issue:  Selection.

You have to be selective.  You can’t say it to just every pretty face in the joint, eventually making your way to everyone over a period of time.  I don’t care if you think you’re freaking Rudolph Valentino and say “Every woman is beautiful!”… that doesn’t make you a lothario, that makes you a horndog with low standards.  (And if Rudolph Valentino was really that great, don’t you think the other reindeer would have asked him to join their reindeer games?)  Certainly, there is merit to the statement “Every woman is beautiful”; Every individual woman is going to be considered beautiful to some other individual.  In my first apartment in California, I shared a kitchen with a 400-lb. woman.  She was a sweet soul and all, but not physically attractive to my eyes (especially after seeing her eat 3 packs of Ramen Noodles in one meal).  I hope she found someone that sees her as beautiful… but I’m okay in admitting I’m not one of those guys.

So, even if you’re like me, and believe that Beauty does come in many shapes and sizes, you still have to draw the line somewhere.You’ll still have a decent-sized pool to choose from.  Now, you have to start narrowing it down, to find the one that you believe really deserves to hear it.

Now, from here on the selection process involves making possible assumptions about people based on looks alone.  No, that’s not 100% respectable, I understand.  If a lawyer pointed that out in court, I’d sound like a sexually-harassing a-hole.  In fact, saying it here could be evidence for ME being a douchebag.  That’s a risk I have to run.  But the pool has to be narrowed down somehow; otherwise, again, it means nothing.

Okay, first thing I do is eliminate the “Hot” girls.  I mean the ones that are stereotypically “Hot”.  They subscribe to the media-barrage standards of what “Hot” is.  Look at the way they carry themselves.  You can usually tell by looking at someone if they have the “I’m Hot and I know it” attitude.  I’m not saying look for the ones that have low-self-esteem… just eliminate the ones that have maybe too-high of self-esteem.  They obviously don’t need the boost, and the compliment would probably be wasted on them, anyway.

In the gym, it’s a touch easier to spot them, because every muscled jackhole is trying to flirt with them.  Now, me being an introvert, I’m a bit of a people-watcher, so I occasionally notice things like that as I’m going from exercise to exercise.  I don’t think the Gym is a place for socializing; it’s for getting work done, and getting healthy.  So the flirters tend to stick out.  The meathead guys usually go for the stereotypical “Hot” women, because they think the amount they can bench-press deserves the lady’s attention.  And the gals being flirted with have most likely heard it all before.  For them, they might not even make the differentiation between “Hot” and “Beautiful”, so it all sounds the same to them.  So, it’s probably a wasted effort on our part, and even more a likely chance they’d think “Ugh, what a creep-o.” (Unless I had a six-pack stomach and Calvin Klein-underwear model looks, then they’d probably respond favorably.  Hey, there are shallow women, too.)

So the stereotypical Hot ones… out.  Sorry, that’s the way it goes.

Ideally, what you want, is someone who is beautiful… but maybe isn’t told so very often.  Which is a pretty big category, sadly.  Maybe it’s more accurate to say:  Someone beautiful… who considers themselves “average-looking”, and is okay with that.  Or even that believes “The right person will think I’m beautiful.”  (Acknowledging that not everyone will) Well, even if I’m not the right person… I can see it.  And I think that’s a person worth telling it to.  I think the compliment wouldn’t be lost on someone like that.

Actually pinpointing that kind of person… is a crap shoot, I admit.  But a big part of it probably comes down to what YOU consider to be “Beautiful”, and how that might compare to a friend’s opinion.  If you see someone as beautiful… but think they’re probably the type some friends of yours would say, “Eh, she’s pretty.” Or “She’s alright”.  Right there, it’s obvious that you are seeing them in a higher opinion then someone else… in which case, you’re on the right track.  Got yourself a potential candidate there.

But don’t go jumping the gun!  I see you’re about to jump on over there and make your presence known… hold up! You can’t do it right this second!  Why?  Issue #4, my friend:  Timing!

You swagger over there at this moment, you’re right back to the “Douchebag” issue.  You might as well put on the Douchebag club pin right now!  (Hey, didn’t I kick you out of here earlier?  No?  You sure?  Yeah, right… I’m watching you, Buster!)

Timing is vital on this, I really believe that.  You don’t want to interrupt anything.  If she’s hanging out with friends, forget it.  Even if you did manage to compliment her, the friends will either scoff and make fun of you for trying a “pick-up” in front of them, (cock-blocking even when you weren’t attempting to… “cock”?) or maybe even get jealous and say, “What about me?  Am I Beautiful?”… and you don’t want to be prompted to say it out of obligation, because then it even feels like bullshit, and deep down, they know it’s not as satisfying because you were prompted.  No, you need to catch them when they’re alone.  At the gym… don’t interrupt them in the middle of a set.  That’s just rude.  And besides, you’d rather have their full concentration, not splitting it with “what number rep am I on?”  Full concentration can help with full appreciation.  So, during a workout is very tricky.  Maybe the only time you could get away with it is when they’re wiping down the exercise machine.

But you also don’t want to do it with anyone around.  Even if outsiders don’t care, for the target… if it’s something they might find embarrassing (whether by virtue of “can’t take a compliment” or “someone is making a fuss over me, oh no”), you want to minimize the potential for that happening.  This should be a fairly private moment… no one else’s business.  In the parking lot is a good place, where most other people would be out of earshot, if they’re even around.  (Yet, it’s not so private that she would have to worry about her safety… you want to minimize any potential “threat” factor for her, too.)

But don’t stand and wait for her in the parking lot.  Because this is the element you pretty much should leave up to fate.  IF you find yourself in a comfortable public-yet-non-threatening-private-ish location… IF you find yourself in said location with the target in close proximity… IF the target is not otherwise occupied… and IF there’s no interlopers in the area, then you should be good to go.  But it can be a small window of opportunity, that could be easy to miss.  Go about your business, and if the paths cross with the circumstances in the right place… well, okay.  But if you two are parked on opposite sides of the parking lot… don’t go in her direction until you get in her earshot.  Make the approach just before the actual path split.  Go a little out of your way, but not a lot.  Going too much out of your way… can be creepy.  

Yes, this does mean that it’s possible that opportunity will never arise.  It may happen.  That’s okay.  Let the Grand Imaginary Powers of Coincidence do their thing, and if those Powers are kind… you’ll have your window of opportunity to make your approach.  (Okay, you can help them along a teeny bit, by picking up your pace, or slowing it a little; if it betters the chances of being at the ideal spot at the same time.  Just don’t be obvious about it, and be prepared to abort on the slightest notice, okay?)

Now, we come to The Approach.  The fifth issue.

Don’t go starting with a “Hey Toots.”  Or a “Yo, wait up.”  Forget about “Hey Girl!” And do NOT even think about a “Howyoudoin?”  Don’t go into it with cockiness, or suaveness, or Valentino, or tough-jock attitude.  Frankly, in this instance, for what is actually trying to be achieved…  do not step in with “confidence”.  You go in with confidence when you want something, when you’re pursuing someone with intentions that are, in essence, selfish.  (Which isn’t always a bad thing… but it’s just not the point of this.)  Here, I’m saying go with something else.  Not with the opposite of confidence, but something a bit more towards that side of the spectrum:  Humility.

A simple “Excuse me”.  Not said with a tough attitude, or a wink, or a seductive tone… but rather with the attitude of “You would do me the honor of bequeathing 5 seconds of your attention in my direction.”  Gentleman-like, that’s all.  If they don’t hear, or keep walking… then abort mission.  The moment has passed… no harm, no foul.  Just enjoy the rear view for 2 more seconds (hey, I’m only human), and then keep on your merry way.

Chances are, you will get their attention.  Then it’s the time for the truth.  Just make sure it IS the truth, otherwise, you’ve screwed this up way back at the beginning.

For me, I find myself usually introducing the statement:  “I just wanted to say…”  As I think it would feel too “weirdo” for me just to say cro-magnon-like “Ungh… you boot-ee-fall.”

Now, I also tend to throw in a little extra something… mainly because I’m paranoid, and I honestly want the person to be complimented and not weirded-out.   And despite all precautions, this could still be seen as an unsettling experience.  So, either just before or just after I’ll say “I really hope you don’t feel uncomfortable by this… it’s not a pick-up or anything…”  Though, I’m usually kicking myself afterwards for adding that.  I don’t know… maybe I’m using too much humility in there.

But, now it’s been said… bringing us to the last issue:  Reaction.

This is not only about the Target’s reaction… but yours as well.  For the Target… you really only want them to be gracious.  A simple smile and thank-you… recognition and appreciation.  It’s awesome if they are genuinely moved by your sentiment… but that won’t always happen.  Anything beyond simple “appreciation” is gravy, quite frankly.

But your reaction can also be a factor… remember:  This is not a pick-up.  You are not to ask anything from this person.  But if she does think it’s a pick-up, and rejects you, thenyou have to remain gracious, say, “That’s okay… I just wanted to say that.  Nothing more required.” Then politely excuse yourself.  

This is another reason that you can’t make it a pick-up… because a rejection may come.  But you won’t actually feel rejected, if you’re sincerely NOT doing it as a pick-up.  Because there’s nothing to be rejected… and the compliment still stands.  (It’s not that I’m afraid of rejection… okay, I am, but that’s completely beside the point…)  But if you compliment her, she rejects… and you feel rejected?  What do most douchebags say?

“Stupid bitch, you’re ugly anyways.”

“Lesbo.”

“Dumb whore!  Screw you!”

Yeah, they retaliate with an insult to save their precious egos… and also makes the original compliment completely null and void.  Good work, asshole.  Now do you see why I kicked you out in the first place?  There’s nothing wrong with letting the lady have the last word.  If they truly were worth the effort in the first place, they’ll remember you met rejection with a sense of grace, and did not take back what you said… which means you must have really meant it.  And they’d probably be a little humbled by that… congratulations, you’ve made them a better person!

Even if her reaction is ideal… you still need to excuse yourself quickly, lest the awkward-phase descend, and the sincerity of the gesture disappears.  

I know I said to take out the confidence and come in with humility… but oddly, if you do this way, you actually demonstrate a different kind of confidence.  The confidence of honesty.  Too often, the people who are overly-confident in this world, seem to have no problem lying their ass off, to get what they want.  And those same confident people who say they’re “just being honest” about something, are usually saying something pretty shitty.  As a whole, we’re pretty much trained that when someone says, “Hey, I’m just being honest here…” you know they’re going to say something you’re not going to like.  (That’s actually known as “Liar Liar Honesty”.)   So here… you can actually throw them for a bit of a loop… in a very good way.  Under the insistence of sincere, unadulterated honesty… you can actually make their day.  Which doesn’t happen nearly enough in this world.

I have recently said this to someone.  It’s been a long while since I’ve last done it, and hadn’t even considered it in that time.  (Granted, it’s not something I wake up and say, “I’m going to find someone to compliment today”.  I just try to keep my eyes open and if the occasion occurs… great.  I tend to average once every 9 months or so.)  She goes to my gym, and I started noticing her every now and then when I was on the cardio machines.  Then I realized I was noticing her more and more.  If I was on the stair-climbers in the back of the room, and she jumped on one of the treadmills directly in the next row up… I’d say to myself:  “Cool… I get a nice view today.”  As neutral as I was keeping my attitude, with regards to the people around me at the gym… she seemed to stand out, by not really doing anything at all.  She kept to herself… did her workout and leave.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talk to anyone… just does her thing and moves on. 

She has very short, brunette hair… and I don’t really know why, but I have a semi-“thing” for short-haired brunettes.  Now, short hair doesn’t work on every woman… but those it does work on, it looks really good.  And believe me… on this woman, it looks freaking great.  It suits her incredibly well.  She has an angular-face (and I like angular faces… again, not sure why), gorgeous eyes… she looks simply Beautiful.  With a capital B.  And I know I’m going on only looks alone, and maybe it seems a bit shallow (but right now, I don’t care.  Bite me.)… but if you asked me at the time, “Of all the women in this room… which one physically looks like someone you’d want to fall in Love with?”  I’d probably say her.  This is not meant to sound “stalkerish”… just “very admiring of her appearance”.

Now, I don’t know if she’s married or taken (I haven’t seen a ring on her finger, but doesn’t mean it isn’t there… or maybe she takes it off for her workout), I don’t know her personality, her name… heck, I don’t even know if she’s in my age-range for dating.  She could even be Lesbian, who knows?  All I know is her appearance.  And she is absolutely in my definition of Beautiful.

So, I thought about it for a bit… and decided, “If the opportunity comes around… I’ll tell her.”  Now, I don’t always see her there… for one, I don’t always go to the gym at the same time every day.  But when she is there, I usually spot her.  We never crossed paths, but I didn’t try to facilitate that happening.  (Like I said, it needs to be left to the Grand Imaginary Powers of Coincidence.)  Then, I finished up my workout, went to the locker room, walked around the old creepy naked dudes, got my stuff together and headed out.  Walking towards the front door, I pass by the staircase that leads down from the upstairs locker-room (the Women’s one).  I see out of the corner of my eye that someone is coming down it, probably will end up right behind me going out the door into the foyer.  So, once I go through, I pause and hold it open for that next person (a polite habit I’m fine with keeping).  I turn my head and see that it’s her… the Beautiful brunette.  She says, “Thanks” (for the door-holding… and a pretty voice, by the way), and goes ahead through the outer door.  The only other person that was there just went inside as we were coming out… so this looked like the opportunity.

It was raining a little, so she paused briefly as she stepped outside to put up the hood on her jacket…

“Excuse me?”

She turns and looks right at me, looking slightly surprised (understandable)… this is the first actual contact I’ve ever had with this woman.

“I… hope this doesn’t make you feel at all uncomfortable, but… I just wanted to say… I… think you’re incredibly beautiful.”

(I don’t know why I put so many pauses in there… not entirely intentional.  It’s not like I can “abort mission” anymore at that point.  I’m committed, gotta go through with it.)

She smiles… (a really nice smile, too) and says, “Oh, that’s so sweet!”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t meant to be a pick-up or anything… I just… wanted to say that.”

She says, “Thank you so much… that’s really sweet.  Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.  You have a good evening. “

“Thank you, you too!”

And we walk off to our separate cars.  I didn’t look to see what she was driving (that seems like a stalkerish detail to try and discover), just got into my car and headed off like normal.  (I was also being rained on, and I didn’t have the rain jacket with the hood.  Eh, it was worth getting wet.)

I’ve seen her at the gym a few times since, and we even passed by each other a few times.  Met with eye contact, and a smile.

It appears that the mission was a complete success.  She seemed genuinely appreciative of the compliment, as I hoped she would… and the aftermath is nice, too.  Doesn’t seem insulted or weirded out by me (as she’s at least acknowledging my existence)… and maybe exchanging a smile with me can be a nice reminder to her that yes, someone does find her sincerely Beautiful.  That’s a role I’m happy to play, and wouldn’t want to jeopardize.  And just maybe… I granted her a wish.

However, if SHE were to strike up a conversation with ME… then I’d have to say all bets are off.  (I just first have to make sure she’s not married/taken/lesbian/etc…)

But that’s how I tell a stranger she’s Beautiful.

Now, go kick a douchebag for me.

Romance vs. Intimacy: The Eternal Battle

I’m *not* a Romantic.

That’s actually a conclusion I’ve been somewhat hesitant to come to, because… I’d *like* to be. I have tried… and I’ve failed, miserably. That’s okay, I now come to terms with it. I am horrible at Romance.

What I am good at… is Intimacy. (and I’m not talking about the Sexual context… get out of the gutter. Or at least get out of my spot!)

Okay, maybe that’d be up for debate when you start getting the opinions and feedback of my Exes… but at the very least I’m *better* at Intimacy then Romance.

Some might be looking at me oddly (actually, that’s not any different from what I’m used to…) and wondering “What is the difference?” Normally, I would have figured them the same, or pretty damn near the same thing. But no more shall I do this… I shall now get nitpicky.

As per what I usually do when I start to differentiate between specific words… I look them up in the “pocket dictionary” I’ve had since Grad School. (Yet, I’ve never had pockets that big in my life.) Sure, maybe it’s a bit cliché, but why the hell not? So, I looked up “Intimacy” and found this definition:

1. To make timid; fill with fear. 2. To coerce, inhibit, or discourage by or as if by threats.

Is it fairly telling, the fact that I said, “You know, that makes sense…” and THEN realized I was looking at the definition of “INTIMIDATE” instead? (Sure, it says the two words have different roots, but I think they just don’t want to admit it.) Hey, I say it’s an honest mistake. Anyhoo…

in∙ti∙mate adj. 1. Marked by close acquaintance, association, or familiarity. 2. Essential; innermost. 3. Comfortably private…

As for the other…

ro∙mance n 1.a. A love affair. b. Romantic involvement (thanks, redundancy really helps… he sarcastically says in a sarcastic manner); love. 2. A mysterious fascinating quality or appeal, as of something adventurous…

Ah ha! That’s it! I *knew* there was a difference! It’s #2… that’s what I believe people are really talking about when they say they want “romance”. That’s what I’m horrible at.

I don’t know if I can say I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I can say I’m pretty damn honest, even from meeting me right away. I’m not cultivating any kind of “mystique of a secret past” or brooding and looking all deep like some kind of pathetic and sparkly-stalking-vampire (modern teen ideas of Romance are majorly Fucked up, BTW). I’m the kind of person who, if you want to know about me, I’ll tell you. Ask any question, and I’ll answer it. No problemo. (I don’t have a lot of pride in that area, and very little embarrasses me.) While I love reading mysteries and watching them on TV and movies… I myself am no mystery. Hell, if you’ve read even a few of the posts on this blog, you know a pretty good amount about me. Sure, you may not know my actual identity… the whole pen-name thing… but you’ll know me. The name is really just a minor detail. Even then, you send me a private message on here or Twitter… Hell, I’ll probably send you my Facebook page, if you’re really curious. Has pictures and everything.

Yeah, I’m a sap like that. But I like people knowing about me… just as much as I like knowing about other people. I like the familiarity, I like knowing the real person… I like them knowing the real me. I like… the Intimacy. Hell… I love it!

That leads to the big kicker… and what seems to make the two terms (dare-I-say) polar opposites, rather the similar kind that was assumed before:

The more you get to know someone, the less Romance you have with them. But it’s not a bad thing… because the trade-off is… you gain real Intimacy. (Personally, I think that’s better.)

Alright, I’m sure I just opened myself up to some comments saying, “No, I can have both! I want it!” Sure, because everybody wants everything.

Intimacy is a long-term satisfaction… and it takes work to get there. It takes time. You get to know the real person… and hopefully you actually *like* that real person. If you don’t? Well, you should know not to waste anymore time, right?

Granted, in some ways Intimacy might be a bit of an unseen trap. About 7 or 8 years ago, I knew this gal (of whom I had a slight interest in at the time I admit) who was chatting about her Ex and how she “loved him, but wasn’t *in* love with him”, and trying to explain that paradox. She’s more then willing to go out and date other people, but when she hits a personal crisis, or something really bothered and upset her… she went running to him to talk and get comfort. Her reasoning was, “we just know each other so well anyway that it’s just easier to go to him because he would understand without me saying that much.” Sure, that’s sound logic… but at the same time, I wanted to tell her that she should just pack it in and marry the guy. Because she didn’t seem open to the idea of getting to that level of intimacy with anyone else… because the Ex was easier. She was looking for romance elsewhere… but the real intimacy was always with the Ex. I couldn’t see her finding a new relationship that would be okay with that… which is why I allowed my own interest to fade. If you know the real person, and really know that person isn’t for you? Recognize that you need to look elsewhere. (Just don’t say “I do” until you figure that part out.)

This might also help explain why I’m in contact with so few of my Exes… I don’t like the reminder of NOT having that particular Intimacy anymore.

In some ways, I think Romance is a bit about the short-term satisfaction. The quick, immediate excitement. Sure there’s also the parts of candle-lit dinners, thoughtfulness of birthdays, declarations of love that people call “romantic”… but I think those are things more tilted into the Intimacy category, then true Romance. Romance is… exciting. It’s the unknown. Sorry to repeat myself… but it’s Mystery.

Like I said at the beginning… *I* like Romance. Excitement can be fun. Surprises are peachy-keen. I think everybody likes stuff that is new and exciting… maybe even feeling a bit dangerous. It’s a neat thrill.

And maybe I just uncovered an element that might give an insight as to why some people choose to cheat in their relationships. They’re looking for the Romance. Unfortunately, they’re doing so at the complete expense of the Intimacy they had in that relationship. Being an admitted Non-Romantic… I cannot condone that. I might be able to “understand” it… but only as far as to know to recognize it and not submit to it.

(Meanwhile: In the Gutter: The one thing I can NOT understand at all is why certain celebrities would cheat on their spouses… when the spouses are Hotter and more Beautiful then any of the mistresses. That just seems pointless. Don’t you at least want a visual upgrade? If you’re in that powerful a position in life, you should be able to find a mistress that would make your emotionally-suffering-wife say, “This is a horrible ordeal for me and the children… but to be fair, that other gal is *waaaay* Hot. If I was a lesbian… I’m just saying…” And the kids saying, “Dad, how could you do this? By the way, high-five!”)

I’ve never been one to take Intimacy for granted. I’ve been broken up with far more then I’ve been the one doing the breaking up, and the few times I did, it was because I was starting to see the real person, and knowing it wasn’t a good situation for me to be in. (One instance looked downright unhealthy… but that’s another story.) Plus, spending more time in my dating life single rather than in a relationship (healthy or unhealthy), personally I put more importance on the Intimacy then Romance. I can’t do the short-term satisfaction… I’m a long-term kinda guy.

Unfortunately, it appears that I’m also NOT the kind of guy that single women want to actually date.

In High School and in my 20s… being the patient sort of chap that I am, I theorized that all the women at my age were still wanting their kicks with the “Bad Boys” and Deep A-holes, that when I got into my 30s… I was going to have the greatest dating life in history. Because by then, women would know they don’t want the Bad Boys, and being in their sexual peak during the early to mid-30s… I was optimistic the best years were ahead of me.

This was even encouraged by friends of mine who would even tell me, “Dude, trust me… women are going to *want* a guy like you when they’re older.” You know… if I had a time-machine, I wouldn’t go kill Hitler or witness the great historical events of the world. I’d go back to those instances of encouragement… and I’d kick those people in the face. (Come to think of it… some did show up later those days with mysterious injuries. One had a footprint on him with the treads that looked remarkably similar to a pair of shoes I just got…. Hmmm, I wonder….)

It has NOT been the prime years for dating, no-sir-ee. It’s a subject I’ve gone over a few times before… but the last time? The whole eHarmony fiasco? Yep, it is officially a complete dud. I ended off that post with an air of hopefulness, as I was in contact with one gal… and we had gotten to a 3rd date. The only one from online that I had gotten to that point with. We even got to a fourth date. We even made plans for a fifth date. Now #5 was 2 weeks from #4… I didn’t mind waiting. I’m sure you, dear reader, know that I go slower then a snail through a tar pit. My reputation may not precede me… but moves alongside me.

4 dates… no kissing, no hand-holding… not even any hugging. Hell, we barely touched. Now, I didn’t see any opportunities to take such movements… but hopeful they would come in the future. I was enjoying my time with her regardless, and figuring she was either respecting my slow-ass-pace… or went at that pace herself.

Well, the day before the scheduled date #5 (this past Friday), she calls me. I’m happy to hear from her, figuring we would solidify our specific plans for the next day… and then she tells me that she “didn’t see a future for us.”

…Ow. I felt like I just got kicked in the gut (and not by my future self).

She said she really enjoyed spending time with me, and always had a really good time… but didn’t feel anything “Romantic” with me and… (here it comes) only thought of me as a friend.

You have no idea how loud I wanted to scream, “Go Fuck Yourself!” to her… and I think I actually came close to doing so. But I didn’t. I do think it was apparent I was audibly upset… and when she said she thought of me only as a friend, I replied:

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

She giggled at that… and I know it was an uncomfortable thing for her to do, and it was probably more of an awkward-trying-to-relieve-tension-giggle… but still; I wasn’t joking. Honestly, if she hadn’t said that… maybe I wouldn’t be so upset here.

I have seriously heard that same speech far too many times in my life, and I am sick to death of hearing it. Where are all these women that are supposed to want a guy like me? They all want the Romance. And I offer Intimacy.

She said she had given it time, but didn’t feel Romantic feelings with me. I can only think that if she wanted Romance, why didn’t she try walking a little closer to me when we strolled, to give me a chance to take her hand? Why, at the end of our brief dates, did she quickly get into her car or house door, saying “goodbye/good night” over her shoulder, and not stop, face me and look at me for 2 seconds, to give me a chance to try for a kiss? Why not even try for a date longer then a mere 2 hours at a time? Why not give me a chance to provide that Romance?

No, I don’t think she gave it enough time. Especially not with me. For other guys maybe it’s enough time. But not me.

But here she was, giving me the age-old rejection speech. Additionally frustrating in the fact that it wasn’t even original. So, the fifth date did NOT happen. In fact, it ruined not only the rest of my night, but the whole weekend, as I’ve been pretty much stewing in it since.

Sure, I’ve been going through the thoughts of joining a monastery… but I don’t think I could do all the praying and chanting. I *have* come to the conclusion that the Internet dating doesn’t work for me… not one bit. So that’s one more road that is closed off. In fact, it really just seems that I really don’t belong in the world of Dating. I know that’s an extreme, because you can’t get to a relationship without the Dating… but when everyone seems to want the one thing I’m not good at giving, how can I get to giving what I *am* good at? (Or at least better at) Sadly, it’s the one thing that the evidence seems to point to, from this view.

I don’t know if I’ll feel better or different in a few days… hopefully I will. But this conclusion is feeling more definitive then ever before.

Just don’t say, “Wait until your forties! THEN they’ll be breaking down your door!” Because you’ll get boot to the head *right now*.

And the next single woman that says she only thinks of me as a friend WILL get the very loud volume-turned-to-11-FUCK YOU!!!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to the gutter for awhile. At least it’s more entertaining there.

Not what I meant by “Getting Laid”

Exactly one year ago today… I got laid off from my job.

I had just passed my one-year anniversary with the place, too (about 2 weeks earlier). I had started there as a temp replacement Admin Assistant because the regular one was going on vacation for a month. I was just tooling along for a few weeks, when I was approached by the head of the “Export Compliance” department. (Though, it would also be accurate to say I was approached by the ENTIRETY of the Export Compliance department… as it was just him.) He said he had heard that I was a pretty detail-oriented and focused guy, and he had just been approved to hire an assistant… so he wondered if I would maybe be interested.

Now, I didn’t know what was entailed in “Export Compliance”… but it turns out, it’s really just making sure the company is following all of the gazillion laws that the U.S. Government has, when shipping things outside of the country. Ever since 9/11, it’s been a growing necessity for companies, frankly. They’d give me the training and all… which wasn’t that difficult, I thought. Mostly just repetitive paperwork and “busy-work”, frankly. But it would free up him to work on the bigger, more specialized tasks for important account, while I took care of the day-to-day stuff.

It would be a permanent position, with a bit of a pay raise, benefits (medical AND dental… and it’d been a very long time since I had insurance for those!) and apparent employment security. But admittedly… none of it was the biggest reason for accepting the job. But, rather:

I would be able to tell people I work in “Exports”.

And saying that you work in “Exports”… I think we all know what that is really a euphemism for, right?

That’s right. Secret Agent.

What, you don’t see the connection? Hey, James Bond’s standard cover story was that he worked for “Universal Exports”. This is pop culture people! It’s ingrained in our psyche!

Sure, in this case, it *wasn’t* a euphemism, but I could FEEL cool, dammit!

But yeah… that was seriously the biggest attraction to take the job. That probably says a lot about me.

Still… I actually liked the work. At times, it even felt more like “Secret Agent” then I thought it would… especially the time I was subtly threatened from a man in Iran because I was “asking too many questions”. I even got to go on my first honest-to-goodness business trip (a cute little story on its own). The people were nice, and just the act of keeping mentally busy actually charged me creatively in quite a few ways. (The blogging regularity heyday of 2008 occurred during this timeframe.) I was saving money, feeling pretty good, and even having occasional random fun.

What random fun, you say? Well, I had fun planting some of the Victor Riley business cards around. I didn’t put out that many… but I figured I should stop when I saw a company-wide memo from the President that solely addressed this; saying, “for those that don’t know, it’s an anonymous way to congratulate someone on a job well-done. While such reinforcement is positive, we ask that this stop, as we have our own company methods for such rewards…” Yeah, I found it a bit confusing myself… and it appears to have been grossly misinterpreted (especially since I was actually trying to subtly and innocently flirt with the Beautiful Romanian gal from Archives), but nonetheless, I figured it may be wise to stop.

One day, another company-wide memo came out… basically saying that due to the troubling economy, the parent corporation that owned our company, was going to be cutting 15% of the workforce. I admit I didn’t get involved in any water-cooler talks with people about this, so I never heard fellow concerns or anything. I also admit… I thought I was safe. The entirety of the “Export Compliance” department was my boss and I. That was it. The two of us were doing everything, and we had more then enough work to occupy ourselves. So I didn’t get into any water-cooler talk, not because I didn’t care… I was busy getting work done. I logically figured that since that’s the situation for us… that I wasn’t going anywhere.

How wrong I was. A few weeks went by, and then came March 5th.

Earlier that week, my boss had been out of town on a multi-day business meeting… so I was covering his daily tasks as well. This was his first day back. I went in that Thursday morning like I had for the previous year, and noticed nothing different. After about an hour, I saw my boss. I gave him a quick update on the status of things, handed him a few folders that he’d need… and then he asked if I’d come over to his office for a minute. (All things we’ve done a dozen times before) I first started to raise an eyebrow when I walked in, and he closed the door. “Okay, something’s wrong here… did I mess up something big? What’s going on here?”

That’s when he brought up the memo about the 15% cuts… and that I’ve been “affected”.

To say that I was “shocked”… probably doesn’t begin to cover it. Within seconds of this news, I was given a packet of information, with forms in it that I was to sign (but didn’t have to do so right there), and 2 checks… one for the previous pay period, and the period we were in, which actually paid me for the next day, *and the next week*, too. (We were in the middle of a pay period) And another check that included 2-weeks severance, and pay for the 2 weeks of vacation I had accrued (but hadn’t taken).

Sure on the plus side, I now had a couple thousand bucks in my hand… but the security, the certainty, the hoped-for plans I had for that year (like getting an apartment), were out the window. (Not to mention, this wasn’t that long after the “2nd-date Denial”… so I *really* wasn’t having a good couple of weeks.)

One thing I think I’m pretty good at… is staying calm when I have every reason to NOT. Yes, I was sad and even hurt to be tossed out like this by the company (I could tell that my boss did NOT want to be doing this, and I even had that confirmed later. I had made his life and job a lot easier, and was the reason he could take Fridays off. He just walked in that morning and was told by the higher-ups that he had to let me go… right then)… But I do have my pride. Even if I don’t like the work I do… I like to do my best at it, anyway. So, I asked if I would be allowed to finish out the day. My reasoning: I will never have it be said that I left people in a lurch. Even when having no reason to do a good job… I do it anyway. I like to think I’ve got some integrity, and I prefer to live up to that. (Even though I can hear my dad’s voice saying, “To hell with them” if he were in that situation… just one more way we differ.)

My boss actually said that… no, I wasn’t allowed to. In fact, my computer was going to be locked out by 11:00am. He said not to worry about any of the work on my desk…In fact, I could even leave now, if I wanted, and not wait until then. All I had to do, was just gather up my stuff when I got back to my desk.

This wasn’t right away… because my now ex-boss directed me to the conference room across the hall… where another gentleman was waiting, one I’d never seen before. He was an outside guy… a “career transition” counselor that the company hired that basically helps prepare us for the new job search. (Keep in mind, this is all MINUTES after getting the can in the first place) He gave me more packets of information, and how he’d be working with me in the coming weeks to help in this time, etc… Everything seemed to move so fast… because it was. This was the highest level of efficiency I’d seen in a long time… and thinking back on how that all tooled along, and how I wasn’t allowed to finish the day, and whatnot… everything was absolutely set-up with the expectation that I was going to take an absolute nutty. Sure, maybe *some* people might (I wasn’t the only one getting cut that day… I even found out later, to my surprise, the hot Romanian gal got cut too!), but knowing how *I* am, and how I’d rather stoically bear it, Clint-Eastwood style… it did feel a bit extra degrading, being “processed” so quickly.

Still… to my ideals, I don’t want to leave people in a lurch. So, yes, my boss said to not worry about the unfinished work… but I did finish up a few in-progress things on my desk. I separated into two piles… the finished and the unfinished (even put sticky notes listing them as such), I clearly laid out the folder I made called, “How To Do My Job”, with all the procedural things that I had detailed out (in the case that someone would one day have to cover for me, and not know exactly what to do), and then gathered up my belongings.

I had to be gone by 11am… but I had everything gathered up by a little after 10. I wasn’t going to be allowed multiple trips… only one. My security pass was taken, so one time was going to be it. Now, I don’t know what would have happened at 11am, had I stuck around… if I was going to be actually escorted off the premises or not. But as I was finishing, I looked up and saw the other people in my section going into the Marketing VPs office, quietly and quickly. I had a few duties that I did for that department, and as such, was considered a part of Marketing. So, I could guess what that impromptu meeting was about. As I had no more reason to stick around… stuff gathered up, everything I needed off my computer is off… I wasn’t going to get to say a polite goodbye. (Like I said, it was set-up like I was going to take a nutty.) Even my boss’s office was closed, so I wouldn’t even get one final handshake.

Then… came the most stereotypical, clichéd situation I can recall being part of, in about 10 years. That being, the “long walk”… we’ve all seen it in movies and shows… all the cubicle-possessions, calendars, desk-food stash, stress relievers, small decorations, etc, gathered up in one medium-sized box, carried with both hands, and walking it all out to the car for the just-revealed final time.

I honestly felt like I was in the beginning of a bad comedy film.

The sun was bright and high in the sky… not normally a time of day in which I experienced that parking lot… as that was usually the growing light of the morning or the fading light of the evening. The concrete was dry, and large piles of snow still scattered around the outlying areas of grass.

I got into my car, and before I turned the key to start up the engine and drive off this lot for the last time… something went through my mind. And I said to myself something that I think a lot of people feel when having major news thrust upon them in such short burst of time. When events unfold through no workings of your own and a rapid confusion seems like the only reaction you’re capable of…

“What the Fuck just happened?”

Jerked and Re-Jerked

There was a young lady that I had met through a dating/meeting site. (I don’t remember which one) We had written a few times early on, and added each other as friends on MySpace… and then nothing really happened. We sat there as “MySpace friends” for probably about a year. Then one day, I was looking through my friend list, and saw her, and was reminded of her.

Now, I don’t like to have “MySpace Friends”… that is to say, people whose only connection to me is through MySpace. I took a bit of pride in the fact that all my “friends” on there… were ACTUALLY my friends, and I at least knew them in SOME capacity outside of MySpace. There are a few I’ve never met in person… but those are women that were posters to the now-defunct Grrl Genius Blog that was on iVillage.com… so I don’t mind having them on there. But this woman was someone that I really *didn’t * know… but I had wanted to. Technically… since I met her “online” BEFORE I swore off the Internet dating… well, I figured I’d be okay making that last exception. (The fact she had a very beautiful picture probably helped with that… I admit.)

So, I wrote to her… reinstituting contact. She wrote back… and we started a pretty regular correspondence for a week or so. Then we traded phone numbers… and chatted a few times. I enjoyed what I was hearing… and she didn’t seem turned off by my self-deprecating geekiness (though I was trying to keep it under control). I took the chance and asked if she wanted to go out that weekend. She said yes… and we made plans.

She lives just outside Boston, so it took me a little over an hour to get there. Now, it being a first date and all… and I had a *little* more interest in her going into this then the other casual dates I’d met… so I wanted to do something “date-like”, but non-pressure. I admit… I’m looking for love, not just friends… but I also don’t want to jump into anything. I don’t want to go into this thinking, “Yes, let’s start a relationship right now”… but rather say, “I want to give this a fair opportunity to see if it goes anywhere.”

Pressure sucks… I’m not looking to give any pressure, and I don’t want to get any. I just want to be able to relax, and have a good time with someone and be myself.

Then again, I also move slower than a snail through a tar pit.

Anyway… I wanted to do something “date-like”… and I considered flowers, or rather a single flower… but thought that *would* be a slight form of “pressure” or even cliché (maybe not… maybe I’m the only one that overthinks this crap). But I did get, what I thought was, a good idea. I got her a book. “The Tao of Pooh”… we had actually talked a little about that subject during one of our conversations, and I mentioned that book as one I liked, and she said she never read it. I thought it might be a nice, no-pressure kind of small first-date gift that would be appropriate, respectful, fun… and hopefully leave a good impression.

I got to her apartment building, called her, and waited outside. When she came out… I would go so far to say that I thought she looked BETTER than her picture. She dressed practically (it was chilly New England Spring Weather), and still looked very stylish. I thought she looked great. We greeted, I gave her the book, (which she seemed pleased by) and then we got in my car to go get lunch.

I figured “lunch” was a nice, casual non-pressure kind of first date. I knew it was going to be fairly short, as such… and I was okay with that. I didn’t want to wear out any welcome… especially on the first in-person meeting… and of all the “Dating Rules” I’ve ever heard, “leave them wanting more” was one of the few that ever actually made any sense to me. I just had to hope that brief time we hung out… would in fact leave her wanting more.

To be honest… I had a great time. Yeah, driving there felt a *little* awkward… only because I never know what to do with the awkward silences. For me, it’s easier to forward the conversation when I’m facing her. Obviously, that would have killed us (ramming into the guardrail is never cool)… but I did my best, and didn’t think the drive was painful. When we found a restaurant, I felt that the conversation went a bit easier… (but that’s only my opinion… she could have had a completely different view on the matter)

And she was really nice to talk to. You know, if I were to try and judge by body language… I would have thought that she was interested in me as well. There was lots of smiling, a little bit of shyly looking away… all the crap *I* do when I’m interested in someone. I was actually feeling good about this date… and I hadn’t had a good first date (meaning “one that I wanted to lead to a second”) in a very long time.

I dropped her off at her home… I think we only spent about 2 hours… maybe 2 ½ hours together total. Like I said… wanted to start light… not overstay my welcome, and leave her wanting more. (Because I sure did)

Now, I told her flat-out and upfront and honestly… I had a great time, I really liked her… and I wanted to see her again. She said, “Sure”. But I reiterated… I wasn’t saying this because that’s what you’re supposed to say at this point… I wanted to make PLANS to see her again. She said she was busy that next weekend, due to a fundraiser she was working at… but the next weekend, she was free. I said, “Great! I hope I’ll also get to speak to you several times before then.” I told her I would give her a call soon, we hugged goodbye and I left.

No, I didn’t try for a kiss. (I told you… snail through a tar pit.) I figure if it really does go somewhere, there’s plenty of time for that in the future… and again, I don’t like to give pressure. Maybe I move TOO slowly for most people… but I was hoping it would be just enough for her.

I called her the next evening… just like I said I would. She didn’t answer, so I left a brief message… thanking her and telling her I had a great time, and that I hope to hear from her soon.

Nothing. Didn’t hear back from her.

I knew she was majorly busy during the week most days (though we didn’t have much of a problem with our phone calls before… oddly), and normally only “available” on weekends. With it being an hour-plus drive for me… that would have to be the only time I’d be able to physically see her. But I was okay with that idea. If we did develop into something, I’d rather see her once a week than not at all… but I would at least want to TALK to her as often as possible.

But the week went by… and I heard nothing from her. No call… no e-mail message. That Friday, I sent her a message saying, “You’ve probably been busy… but I wanted to wish you luck with your fundraiser tomorrow, and I hope to hear from you soon.” After that… I wasn’t going to send any more. I instituted contact twice… and that’s enough. Any more than that feels stalker-ish. (And stalking is soooo mid-90s)

So, after another week… I concluded that I was being blown off. For the next 3 weeks, I *still* hoped she would call.

I’ve gotten that kind of rejection several times before. Seem to have a great time with someone… they say they’d like to see me again… I call, and they never call back. Why can’t they just say upfront, “You’re a nice guy… but I don’t know if I feel any sparks”?

Personally, I feel that if I have to work up the guts to ask you out… you should work up the guts to tell me you’re not interested. I’ll respect that a hell of a lot more than just being blown off, while keeping my expectations going and stringing me along. It’s the “inaction” that sucks.

A bit more than a month goes by… it’s May. After 4 years of having the same cell phone… I decided to finally upgrade. I go into the AT&T store… my provider, and see what they have. I find a pretty good deal… with the same phone plan I have, same cost and everything… so I get it. The clerk takes the chip out of my old phone and puts it into the new one… and it brings with it the address book and all my contacts. (ooooh… neato) While he’s ringing up my order… I’m playing with the buttons on my new phone… which is turning out to be VERY different from the old one. The concurrent conversation in my head went something like this:

“Okay, that seems to be the ‘menu’ button… that brings me back to the start screen… okay, that’s what brings up the address book….I’ll scroll down a bit… yep, they all seem to be there. Alright, cancel out of this, and get to that main menu… Wait… that’s not it. Dialing? What’s it dialing? I didn’t want it to dial… Who’s it calling? “So-and-So”… Huh? Oh, So-and-So was that Beautiful one that blew me off and didn’t call back. Why do I still have her number? It says I’m calling her… I’m calling her?... Uh… Oh my God… I’m *calling* her! AHHH!!! CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL!!!!”

Visions of her looking at her “missed call” list and saying, “Oh God… not this guy. I thought he got the hint!” plagued me for the next 3 hours.

Yeah… further proof that my life is a badly-written sitcom.

After that little “3-Stooges” moment… I did delete her number, out of fear of that happening again. Also, it didn’t make sense to hang onto it… as I most likely wasn’t going to hear from her again.

A few weeks later, after I got back from a brief trip to California for a friend’s wedding… during which I attained some minor revelations about other issues in my life… I did some “clean-up”… and deleted some people from MySpace… ones that I didn’t really know, and seem to have no interest in knowing me. So-and-So was one of them.

Now it brings us to about now. 2 months later… 4 months since that initial first date.

So-and-So wrote to me.

It came pretty much out of the blue… she thanked me for the book, said it was thoughtful… and she was sorry for being so inconsiderate for waiting so long to write me. She also said that if I wasn’t “too mad”, she’d like to hang out as friends, as she thinks it would be fun.

Well… I wasn’t ever “mad”. Just disappointed that she seemed uninterested.

But now… does this mean she is/was interested? That’s only the start of my questions…

Does she *really* want to just “be friends”? Because I thought I made it clear that I was looking for *more* than “friends”. I’ve got a lot of friends… several that are already an hour-plus away. I go that much North, I see my Best Friend… I go that way West… I can see another friend. I go that way East, I… end up in the ocean. Okay, East is out… but still.

Is saying “Friends” just a euphemism? Is she trying to undershoot with her words, playing it safe? What exactly are her expectations here?

And what is the impetus for all this? What was the sudden inspiration to write to me after 4 months?

Did she also go out with another guy at the time? Decided to try and pursue something with him, that didn’t work out? Then thought, “Hey, what about that other guy, the one that gave me the Tao of Pooh? I never really gave him a chance…” (If so… I can understand that… that’s fine. Maybe that makes me sound like the Second Choice… but I also tend to look at those kinds of situations as “Second Chances”.)

Did she randomly come across the book in her apartment, and that reminded her of me?

Or did she notice I deleted her off MySpace? *shrug* I have no idea.

I wrote her back the next morning, after sleeping on it. I’m open to the idea of seeing her again… and yes, I’m weary… but I don’t want to reject what could be an opportunity. I was busy that weekend, but I suggested we could plan something for the next weekend.

And that was the truth… She left a great first impression on me… and yeah, the blow-off may have sullied that a bit… and I think I do deserve to know why it took so long… what was the holdup, why was I seemingly being jerked around? But if she’s serious about seeing me again… I can wait until she’s willing to tell me on her own terms.

I sent it off. Didn’t get a reply. One of the neat things about MySpace is that you can go to your “Sent” messages and see whether or not the recipient actually read your e-mail. Well… she apparently didn’t check her e-mail all weekend. In fact, apparently, she didn’t check it until Monday… and she did read it.

As of this writing, she hasn’t responded back.

So… I’m suddenly feeling “jerked around” all over again. Sheesh… why is it when I get someone out of my mind, they try to show up in my life again? Why does anyone think I need the reminder?

I wasn’t mad before… just disappointed… but now I’m getting a bit “upset”. If you contact someone and you’re expecting/hoping for a response… why wouldn’t you try and check your e-mail more often? She probably doesn’t know I no longer have her number… but I’m not going to assume she still has mine... so maybe she just doesn’t get the chance to check e-mail. Okay, I’ll go with that. But when she DOES check it… and reads my response… no reply? I’m sorry… if you have time to read it… you have time to write a fast note saying, “I don’t have much time… here’s my number again, call me so we can plan something. I look forward to it!” There. Voila. That’s all you need. That’s all *I* need. (and when I call… return it!)

But if she honestly didn’t have the time to read or reply to my messages… well, if we *were* to develop into something… when was there going to be time for Me? I understand “being busy”… but guess what? We’re ALL busy. But I *make* the time if I want to see someone.

That’s one of the things on my “Required List”… I want someone who’s willing to MAKE time for me… and I’m under the impression she’s not willing or able to do that.

So why am I torturing myself over all this? Especially when there’s a 95% chance that she probably ISN’T thinking about it.

Cause I’m an idiot. That’s why. (Good thing I’m okay with that…)

So… I wish her well. She’s smart, beautiful, and more than pleasant to be around. I hope she finds what she’s looking for… I just have a sneaking suspicion it’s not me.

*shrug*