Do you want to know the sad story of my life? Well neither of us has time for that. But the sad story of the past year or so is "I just started seeing someone." Every. Damn. Time.
I don't sweep girls off of their feet. It takes me about two lunches and a walk in the park to really relax and open up. Then the sense of humor kicks in and everything is golden. Well as sure as strippers on my birthday, for the past year I manage a couple of phone calls and a lunch, and when I try to schedule the dinner, that's what I get. Sometime between the conversations and the lunches, she has hooked up with someone else.
Sure. Plenty of it is my fault. Between parenting and my business, I am free to date about once a week. That leaves plenty of opportunities for a more accessible guy to close the deal. But please. EVERY DAMN TIME?
And don't think it's a cop-out. These girls weren't crazy about me, but they liked me well enough and I expect that they would have gladly accepted more free food and conversation were they still single. One. More. God. Damn. Dinner. A glass of wine, a cheap shot at the fat guy in the corner, and I would *finally* open my mouth and let her know who I AM.
And that's the tragedy of it. These girls have just seen Mr. Ken. They never got to find out what lurks beneath.
All I am is a great guy who wants to love and be loved, wrapped in an elaborate web of emotional defenses and unrealistic expectations. That's not so difficult, is it? Sounds like half of the people I know.
I don't sweep girls off of their feet. It takes me about two lunches and a walk in the park to really relax and open up. Then the sense of humor kicks in and everything is golden. Well as sure as strippers on my birthday, for the past year I manage a couple of phone calls and a lunch, and when I try to schedule the dinner, that's what I get. Sometime between the conversations and the lunches, she has hooked up with someone else.
Sure. Plenty of it is my fault. Between parenting and my business, I am free to date about once a week. That leaves plenty of opportunities for a more accessible guy to close the deal. But please. EVERY DAMN TIME?
And don't think it's a cop-out. These girls weren't crazy about me, but they liked me well enough and I expect that they would have gladly accepted more free food and conversation were they still single. One. More. God. Damn. Dinner. A glass of wine, a cheap shot at the fat guy in the corner, and I would *finally* open my mouth and let her know who I AM.
And that's the tragedy of it. These girls have just seen Mr. Ken. They never got to find out what lurks beneath.
All I am is a great guy who wants to love and be loved, wrapped in an elaborate web of emotional defenses and unrealistic expectations. That's not so difficult, is it? Sounds like half of the people I know.
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We should dance the frustration away. I need to come up and say hi sometime.
Klamath Falls is ok. I am finally making some friends with people in my program. They are actually people I want to spend time with outside of school which in nice.
The boy and I are going to be visiting the portland area during the month of December. I here Pirate Thursdays are happening still. It would be cool to say hi again in person,