Tonight I drank a bottle of wine and thought about weird relationship stuff. I was having dinner with a friend, and we got to talking about all sorts of "what if" type scenarios. "What if my ex could be the person I need him to be?" "What if I don't meet someone in time to have kids?" "What if I'm being too eager with the guy I just met and he's not worth it?"
It was fun, and as always, talking with someone else forced me to think outside the box (or the bottle) a little bit. One of the things I ALWAYS do is pursue instead of being pursued, seek approval instead of waiting to see if the other person is worthy of my approval, please instead of waiting to see if I will be pleased. I tend to be so straightforward and so practical that I don't realize the games people play, I never know what I *should* be doing based on modern dating standards, and I guess I just don't understand the rules so I often feel confused and just sort of discombobulated...if you will.
So yeah. I don't have a job, I have dragged out the situation with my ex FAR FAR FAR past it's expiration date even in the face of overwhelming evidence that no matter what it will never work out, and the new guy I just met is giving me a shady feeling that I'm not sure if I can trust or not...but I think maybe I can. I think the only choice at this point is to work on E. Spat and leave all this other shit behind because, as you can see, it's a mess and I just don't think that the constant search for love and approval and affection from others is working for me...after all, it hasn't worked for the past 31 years, right?
I can't remember where I'm going with this. I ate alot of cheese and drank alot of wine and I'm feeling weird and slightly melancholy but also hopeful and amused and insightful and ready and nervous and unsure. I am trying not to call the ex, and every day is a struggle. I stand by the fact that it's much harder to break up with someone when there's no real issue, no ill will, no problem that you can point to and say "AH HA! That's why I hate you!" Instead, it's more like "Eh...you're just not exactly right but I could probably live with you for at least awhile...I'm just not going to, but I could...maybe." And the new guy might be sketchy.
I hope the rowing class has boys. Cute boys. Boys with jobs. Non-sketchy, non-crazy, non-unsuitable boys. Or maybe even some cool girls I could be friends with who would take me places and talk about non-law stuff. Yeah, that would rock.
I'm rambling. I apologize. No more wine. Bedtime.
