I feel bad for you.

I don’t think about you at all.

While I’ve been agonizing over my latest crush, a friend offerred me another perspective, from her point of view.

Nothing happened. Nothing changed.

So, I am possibly going insane. The connection was so incredible. So unmistakeable. So heartbreaking.

Yet only for me. Nothing happened.

To her, it didn’t get weird. She just simply stopped messaging. The excitement faded.

Perhaps it really is that simple. It doesn’t make it any less painful.

Yes, I know there will be others. Yet, while I may ALREADY have her phone number, what if it’s me? When logistics get in the way, and we go hours, days, weeks without seeing each other, how can I keep the excitement going? Via text, phone, Snapchat. How?

How?

It’s soul crushing to feel just how unworthy it feels when nothing happened. Like it was all in my own mind. I must get this unworthiness handled. And this texting thing.

I must.

Before another line is cut.

What i'm listening to:

Midnight Sky
Miley Cyrus
Midnight Sky

I met someone.

Eleven days ago. I’m still not sure what hit me.

I’ve become so accustomed—and happy—with basking in my solitude™. Honestly, I feel like I could stay alone forever. I no longer eat like a jackass. I make reasonable progress on my life projects. I’m in the best shape of my life. I did 258 pushups this morning. And my mistress, Insomnia, no longer rules my life.

Then she walked into my life. Young. Beautiful. Petite. Vivacious. It wasn’t even my turn, yet I had to get to know her.

For once, messages flowed naturally. We chatted continuously. Next thing I know, I’m really looking forward to looking at my phone and seeing her name. I find my reputation as the world’s worst texter being challenged. Almost.

The connection is incredible. Like our souls have touched. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

And now I have to ask, why is it when I’m NOT in love, I know EXACTLY what to do, yet when I fall?…

In spite of the chemistry, when I’m not looking into her eyes, I have no idea what’s going on inside her pretty li’l head. She’s beautifully broken.

This. I understand. If people were smart—at all—they’d run away from relationships. Far, far away. What else in our lives can implode so spectacularly, only to have us look forward to the next one… diving right in with both feet?

The chemistry is there & it’s undeniable. And it’s scary.

And it’s exciting.

Yet, if/when we fall out of sync, whether she’s in her head, or I’m in mine, then someone’s left on read… and the other is in agony.

Is it possible to learn to sit in that agony? I don’t know about her saboteurs, but my unworthiness saboteur is strong… like the last video game villain in the game.

Insisting that I’m misreading the signals (and maybe I have). Planting the seed of doubt. And maybe he’s right. Maybe she’s not my girl.

Yet this one stings—a lot. It’s magical. And exciting. And scary. And I am in agony.

Maybe she’s adjusting. Maybe she’s having a bad day. I’m certain it’s good I’m not pressing, and injecting levity when I can. Maybe I’ll have to let her miss me for a couple of days… my gift—indifference.

Am I really ready to reenter the land of women? I clearly have so much to learn…

What i'm listening to:

If It Isn’t Love
New Edition
Heart Break