About a Boy

About a month ago, I went out for drinks with Hilda. I don't get to see my restaurant friends as much as I'd like anymore, so we made plans to meet up when she got off work next door at Mill Street. Ah, Mill Street. We've had a lot good times there, Jay, Hilda, Linnea, Howard, Michelle, Jordan and I. Our little eclectic urban family. I might be naive, but I think we'll all stay friends for a very long time.

Even though I've been trying to quit, I was out at a bar on a Friday night, so I went out for a smoke. Smokers are friendly people. I was alone, and there was a group of guys, so we all made nice and started chatting. One guy introduced me to his friend, he said he was a doctor. Not being one to pass up a cute doctor on a Friday night, I decided to go with them to their next destination, even though I was wearing a sweater and flats and not dolled up nearly enough for meeting 20 of their friends.

One thing led to another and I spent the majority of January in the midst of the biggest crush. Turns out he wasn't a doctor, but he was sweet and kind and fun, so I could overlook that. On our second date he made me dinner. Somehow dancing in the living room became a "thing". I know I'm often preaching girl power on here and proclaiming the fact that none of us really need a man, but I have to admit, they are nice to have around. I had quite a few perfect weekends and turned into one of those annoying people who smiles all the time, for no reason. I started making breakfast again.

I'm not really sure what happened after that. Have you ever seen that episode of Sex and the City where the guy breaks up with Carrie on a post-it note? This wasn't quite as humilating as that, but almost. Probably the most embarassing part is the timing of it all, I finally decided to give into it, buy new sheets and tell people how happy I was. But, then I got a text message last night, and it would appear, I'm once again, locked out of heaven.

But, that's life. I never know if I should keep taking risks, when so often it seems like I'm just setting myself up to be hurt again. But for better or for worse, this is who I am. And I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all, which is one of the alternatives. The other, being happy, I'm still working on. Truth be told though, I did have more than my fair share of happiness this past month, so no regrets! And I will be loved, when the time is right.