Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


I could be the one

I'm going to make this short. I know there's stuff from the past weekend that I had wanted to blog about, but I can't think about that now. I am caught in a strange place right now. I've been denying it for weeks, but tonight I finally put words to it. I am still in love with B. And not in that, "I'll always love you a little bit" way. No, I am legitimately having feelings for him. The stomach flip is back. That used to be such a good thing, but it is the last thing in the world I want to feel right now. (From him, at least.) Every little thing he does has taken on some meaning to me. I ended up crashing on his couch during the party after going out one night because I needed a ride back to my car (long story), and when I woke up to catch a ride, he argued that I should stay there. To me, this meant he wanted me. In reality, this means he thought I was too sleepy to drive. We had to go to a celebratory lunch for a close friend of ours and he made me promise to call him and remind him to get up (he works nights) so he wasn't late. To me, this meant he needed me. In reality, this means he was afraid he'd oversleep. There are countless examples of this. And it's been slowly building in me and for some reason it's out now. There's is part of me that thinks I should just say, "I am seriously in love with you and I have been for forever and I am sorry to put a damper on our friendship, but I'd rather never see you again than continue with this nonsense game of not caring I've been playing." But the fear of rejection is paralyzing. The thought of putting a voice to these thoughts makes me want to vomit. I don't know that my fragile little heart can handle being smashed into one thousand pieces again. (I'm going to bet that it's not.) I left the bar early tonight because I didn't want to see him. Because if I saw him I'd want to kiss him and he doesn't want me and it's quite a situation. I have never hated someone that I cared about so much. His mere presence in this world is proof that life is (and never had been) fair. I've spent months wondering why I couldn't connect with anyone, and it seems that it's because I'm still tuned in to an old channel. I have this knot in my throat and I can't breathe and it's not going anywhere and I'm afraid I'm going to choke on it. And I don't know what's worse -- choking on the feelings, but keeping them down, or spitting them out and hoping for the best. I am not so stupid that I think this will work out. This may be a passing phase. I may grow out of it. I'm keeping my mouth shut until I do.



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Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



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