I recently went on one of the most bizarre dates of my life. It was at a lively restaurant where my date and I had some trouble hearing each other.
Him: You keep licking your lips.
Me: Really?
Him: Yeah.
Posts under ‘Lurve/Luff/Like’
Wish you were hair
I realized I loved TBID one day when I went to get my hair colored. This was long ago.
The colorist had painstakingly turned my head into a paint by number, leaving the various dyes on for 15 minutes and then calling me to the sink.
I lay back as she washed my hair. Warm water rushed through the strands. Her nails gently scraped my scalp.
It was the most I’d been touched by someone else in days.
When does dedication become being a doormat?
We talk of love like it’s some cosmic destination or black hole. We can fall into or out of it. We can live inside it. It permanently alters our universe.
The endeavor’s only a few spacesuits and freeze-dried sandwiches short of NASA.
I recently read a “Modern Love” column from The New York Times that addressed a question dear to my scarred heart: What do you do when someone falls out of love with you?
What love has to do with it
I broke up with Cade, the boyfriend before TBID, because he said he didn’t love me anymore. He’d been saying it for months, and I considered it slowly and thoughtfully, like I would a hard candy. You can have a great time with someone who doesn’t technically love you. Not that we really did, but you can.
Since then, I’ve never seen him. We don’t live all that far away. We even work near each other. But coincidence hasn’t reunited us yet, and maybe it never will. That’s something I can live with.
An August I can appreciate
Forget that some people may celebrate August 1 as National Girlfriend Day. It’s finally a month that’s not July, and I’ll take it. In fact, I’ll take eleven.
July was one of the longest months of my life maybe. I’ve never felt more like a crazy person, feeling normal sometimes and then realizing, “Oh, wait. The shape I thought my life had has been completely altered.”
I thought TBID and I loved each other. I thought maybe we had a future.
But we had Play-Doh.
A is for Absolution
Somewhere between feeling like I was being gutted and feeling like I’d merely been run over by a bus, it struck me.
This was not my choice.
I did not break up with myself.
I did all I could do.
Because you asked
There aren’t enough sad songs in the world - or on my iPhone - to express what happened Wednesday. After the break-up Saturday, I cried until I couldn’t. Then I went numb.
I knew something dreadful was going on, but I couldn’t feel it. Like the time I heard an oral surgeon slice open my gums and start yanking out my wisdom teeth, and I just lay there dreamily looking at the reflection in his goggles.
TBID called me bawling on Monday. He said he may have made a huge mistake, that he kind of hated himself. I said I kind of hated him, too. Then I had a meeting to go to. We hung up.
CAPTCHA
I check the blog’s Contact page every now and then to make sure everything’s working.
Today the CAPTCHA was “EXE2″.
Independence Day
My friend Mike was dumped by his boyfriend over Pride weekend. A week later, I became single on Independence Day.
The Universe sometimes has an unkind sense of humor.
