Good Night and Good Luck

A friend noted that I hadn’t written in a while, and that she always knows when I like someone because I stop writing.  Damn, she was right.  So tonight, I’m determined to be brave, and to admit, yes, I was beginning to like Someone, and well, here’s how that turned out…

The last few months have been a string of highs and lows.  After the Canadian, I took myself off the dating sites and found myself spending time (fill in the blank here) with a few old friends.  When we were together, it was fun and sexy and cool.  When we weren’t, my phone taunted me with its silence.  Both Blank Guy 1 and Blank Guy 2 clearly saw me as more of an “option” than a priority. Man, is my ego getting a workout. I wish I could report that I ended both in a blaze of crazy badass bitchy glory, but, the truth is, both simply faded to black.  Just like my lifeless phone.

I decided to abandon ship altogether, and quit the dating scene.  Three days later, I abandon my resolve and I’m back online analyzing the significance of the endless variety of profile pictures.  There are pictures of men posing with tigers (is this a thing?), a poorly executed photoshop experiment where a guy pasted his super tiny head on an enormous bikini-clad body builder, and one of my favorites, a guy posing in his fatigues, surrounded by a dozen topless babes dressed like Santa’s elves.  Amidst all this craziness, I did manage to go on a few dates.

First, there’s Success Guy.  An accomplished businessman, he also paints, writes and is driven by the need to mentor and inspire others to live a good life.  I kind of feel like a potential project when I’m with him.  Next, there is RV Guy.  He’s 5 years younger, selling his house, and is about to jump into his brand new Airstream and cruise wherever the road takes him. When he gave me a tour, I quipped that I should go straight to the dealer and buy my own Airstream van.  “Or you can just come with me.”  Hmmmmm.

Finally, there’s the Someone.  I liked him right away.  He was easy to talk to, cussed as much as I did, and when we went to say our goodbyes at our first meeting, I pointed out that I was slightly taller.  His response: “Who gives a fuck.”   The next day, he asked me to join him for a stroll around Dunedin and to watch the sunset, and I happily said yes.  When I left him last night, I was swooning.

Today, I received a good luck with everything text.  Ouch.

This time, I’m choosing to believe that there must be a Silver Lining.

 

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