Wednesday, July 25, 2007


I'm not good at this dating stuff. I don't think I'm high maintenance. I don't ask for a lot. A 'Hey I'm sorry I have been in touch, things have been crazy' so I might at least feel worth five lousy minutes of one's time. Whether it's social retardation or just plain inconsiderateness, I swim in a big enough sea of self-doubt without bullshit like that. But, me, I give the benefit of the doubt, because I fear that being distrustful will mean that I've reached that level I never want to reach... the bitter jaded man-hating divorcee.

So I give the benefit of the doubt. and I give it and give it. I have a lot of dealbreakers, which I haven't had to deal with, I don't tend to wind up with alchoholics, drug addicts or wife-beaters, but I seem to be drawn to fractured people with issues. People who have been hurt in the past as I have, and it winds up working like magnets of the same poles deflecting each other in the hopes of not getting hurt.

Bah. I don't know, I ramble. Once again, although I stick to my guns (I'm not chasing this time. He can come to me when he's ready) on some levels, I accomodate on others. The opportunity for another chance is there, I suppose, but there's a definite best before date on this offer. In the meantime, I'm doing my own thing. I'm done emotionally investing in something like this if I'm not being met dollar for metaphorical dollar.

Fuck, I don't even know what I am talking about, I just know I felt more content and a lot less anxious when I was status: single than no status at all.

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