Monday, 19 January 2015

Why not? Well...

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm back! (If there are gentlemen reading this, I'm impressed, and I'm sure you're all happy to have me back after a little holiday hiatus.)

My Christmas and New Year's season was a hectic mess of family time, seeing friends, working, and squeezing in dates amongst all that.

Yes, that's right. I said dates. Plural! As in more than one! And aside from one of them, they've all been with the same guy! This, for me, feels worthy of celebration all on its own. Add to that the fact that he is sweet, gentlemanly, intelligent, funny and good looking...and well, based on that description I should be dancing around my living room right now...

...except that while I'm so excited about this, I'm also going absolutely crazy.

I have an amazing ability to get inside my own head, chew a situation into an unrecognizable morsel, and let it sit in my belly until it makes me sick. I've spent the last week analyzing this guy and his feelings for me to death, suddenly so afraid of getting hurt I find myself on the verge of tears. I can't completely pinpoint what it is that spurred this on. It's been building since before I left for my New Year's snowboarding trip, and is now culminating in total gastric discontent (my neuroses often manifest as full-on visceral sensations...I'm trying to word it more pleasantly than saying I feel like I may destroy any toilet that I come into contact with).

Wait. My phone is ringing. It's said gentleman.

*Ten minutes later*

Turns out my neuroses are brought on by some kind of sick sixth sense, because said gentleman just decided the chemistry he's looking for isn't there (after over 10 dates he ended things with a phone call; he's not a gentleman, he's every bit the fucking child I thought he wasn't). The chemistry isn't there!? Did you decide that before or after you spent a night making out with me on your couch but pointedly not putting your hands anywhere near the places I was longing for them to go!?!? Oh, it has nothing to do with me? Well, that's pure bullshit, because guess what - as I'm the person you're apparently not that attracted to, it does have everything to do with me. Wait, no it doesn't. It has everything to do with you being an idiot. But I digress.

"I think you're great, but..."

(There's going to be a lot of f-bombs coming here people, you've been warned.)

But what? Clearly I'm not that fucking great (in your eyes) otherwise you would have kept dating me you fucking moron! I am great, it's taken me years to come to a point where I can say that about myself and actually believe it - and you're walking away from a great woman! Which in my eyes, makes you not so fucking great after all! (Side note: I started a nutrition challenge this past week which has effectively eliminated all my favourite junky foods and removed carbs, dairy and booze from my diet. I'm hangry right now. Like, really hangry.)

Rant over. Angry phase...well, that's going to take a glass/bottle/box of wine and a little bit of venting to wind up.

I've heard that statement so many times. "You're great, but...(insert cowardly, ridiculous, false, moronic cliché here)." I've worked hard not to take that line seriously, to not question myself and automatically assume that there is something wrong with me. That strength wears thin sometimes. Every now and then I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder, really, is there something wrong with me?

Well of course there's not. Aside from my road rage. And my spending habits. And maybe some of the neuroses I have going on...but given that my body was clearly trying to tell me what was coming, I think those neuroses are in fact a fabulous thing to have. So suck it, dudes who think a woman should just not be crazy. I like my level of cray cray.

So now here I sit. Staring at my reflection in the computer screen and wondering...why did I decide that Internet dating was a good idea?

Well...why not?


P.S. - To all the amazing, beautiful and intelligent single women out there who have heard that dreaded fucking ARE great. Soak in the hurt, let it settle, and then let it go. I have to believe that someone, somewhere, someday will realize just how great I am (and you have to believe it too), because the alternative of letting bitterness seep in and ruin my appetite for love...well, that's just not an alternative at all. xoxo

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