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Rant time, kiddies.
So, after a smashing great time with my new friend, we stood by her car as she prepared to go home. I felt great, relaxed, and satisfied that I had just exposed a hip, interesting person for me to be friends with. To end the evening on an easy note, I simply said "You're cool, I'd like hang out again".
Her reply was "yes, I'd like that. you're fun, we have fun, and I like ... I'm sure that we could ... well, I'm in a_weird_place right now, but ... yeah, I think we could go out again. I'm kind of busy, but yeah."
I told her that was fine, and I'd call. As she drove away, I shook my head. Is it any wonder I have such a hard time reaching out, that I am so hesitant about meeting new people? It's such a minefield; you have to be the sort of person that eats rejection like it’s a dessert, with a little chocolate sauce and a side of espresso. I understand why she had to warn me that she's "in a weird place". Hey, I’ve been there. And, though try hard to be subtle and calm, when I'm happy or excited it's hard for me to hide. It's probably like standing next to a high voltage wire; you can just sense it, alive and full of energy, and possibly danger. Still, I'm always perplexed and disheartened when, on the first date, I get the 'this might be a bad time' warning shot is fired across my bow.
I mean, _ferchrissakes, people; EVERYONE is in a weird space. I understand there can be better times than others, but why does the timing or logistics always seem to be off? So many great opportunities, all shut down by a simple issue of inconvenient circumstance, events too close or far from some other life issues. It feels like it’s the story of my life. Connection and love are always teetering on a razor thin wire, the perfect magic and interstellar bonding thwarted by some “weird space”. Maybe its breaking up with some other jerk, or some far away place that just has to be moved to, or some mind-fucking that took place 20 years ago that still needs scrubbing and a band aid. And when one person says “okay, let’s go”, there’s some issue on the other end, always something, the same shit, doesn’t matter, the timing is never right.
FUCK is that frustrating.
Think of this; you, me, everyone; we are a merely a mass of amino-acids, proteins, and salt water, which for some reason can see, talk, drive a car, and reproduce. Tell me that's not weird. Cripes - I don’t know if I’ve ever been “ready” for a relationship, and to some degree I ever will be. I've been in “a weird space” ever since I realized those funny pink things I kept seeing at the end of the crib were attached to my legs, and had toes all over them that I could wiggle. If I let these things, the weirdness, or the not-readiness, stop me from trying to live, to explore, to meet and maybe love, well fuck. I might as well climb into one of those graves I dug in the crawlspace, and bury myself right now.
ah, well. I understand her plight, and I can accept it. I’m glad I met her, period. Rant over. Fact is, I need the friendship as much as anything, so I'll be happy if we just go for beers again. And, for the sake of sanity, and the well being of the community, I've got plans to cancel the registration on my sex drive, and put it up on blocks in the yard. Better to get that thing off the streets, where nobody will get run over, and I can stop thinking about it for more than 10 seconds.
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