Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks

Thinking it over

I'd like to reply to all of your comments individually, but that would probably take me longer than it'll take to just post. Suffice it to say that I was taken aback by the time some of you put into long and thoughtful comments. And for some girl you don't even, like, know! I owe you all a drink. Thanks! I was just overwhelmed on Thursday. B and I were at a celebratory lunch for a good friend (the girl who introduced us) and her family and it was nice. All day we had been talking about old times because the Good Friend will be moving to a nearby city for a great new job in a few months. We ended the night at a party at a bar we used to always go to back when we were in school. And we were reminiscing about the past and telling Good Friend's sister funny stories and someone commented that all of Good Friend's family thinks she should snatch B up because he's a nice guy. Good Friend said the two of them were never attracted to or interested in each other. And she looked and me and smiled. And I, two vodka crans into the night, said, "Plus, she knows I'd hurt her" and winked at her. We laughed and that was that. (B, of course, was not there yet.) Later, someone said something about how we LIVED at this bar during college and then I think I told someone the story about the Night I Cried At The Bar. Now I'm not talking about one single tear or anything. I get weepy sometimes when I'm drunk, but I rarely, if ever, let it get past that in public. Except for a night that shall live in infamy as the Night I Cried At The Bar. (And yes, you can laugh as you read this. It is kind of ridiculous and funny. I laughed at points when I was writing it.)

It was several years ago, maybe two months after I'd met B. There was a great regional party band playing at our bar and they only played here once or twice a year. So everyone always went to see them. It was one of the best nights to go out, because you knew half of the bar and everyone was in a good mood and dancing and the music was great. I was there with my girlfriends. I hadn't seen B in a week or so, but I had heard word through the grapevine that even though he'd kissed me and flirted with me and we had been having a good time when we all went out, he was seeing someone and was not going to take our burgeoning connection anywhere. And I had told myself that I was fine with that. So, I'm looking (I think) pretty cute in what is (I think) one of my favorite cool weather sexy outfits. (A form-fitting soft turtleneck, cute dark jeans and high-heeled boots. I don't know why this makes me feel sexy. I think it's because you're all covered up, but you still feel all curvaceous. Plus, wearing tall boots always makes me feel sexy.) (Seriously, enough.) I'm more than a little tipsy. I'm full-on "It's-Friday-and-school-is-over-for-the-week -and-I'm-22-and-I'm-gonna-dance-all-night-and-I-don't -have-to-drive-and-everything-is-so- KICKASS" drunk. I'm out on the deck area of this bar (because it's cool but not cold) and in addition to all of the other bar regulars and my girlfriends, there are probably at least 40 or 50 people I know from work, class or life in the crowd. At this moment, I think they were ALL outside in the general area where I was. So, I'm walking to the bar and I turn around and I literally run into B. We physically collide. He is here with his friends and he's been drinking for hours too. We immediately give each other a big hug and smile and we kind of don't pull back from the hug. I remember we were kind of huddled together talking and his hands were kind of sitting on my hips and I was playing with his belt loop while we talked. It was awesome. This guy I really really liked was here with me and he was flirting with me and (in my cloudy mind) he was going to realize that he was being stupid for not considering dating me. In the middle of the crowd, we started making out. (Cloudy mind thinks, "Hell yeah! Way to be persistent! Told you he digs ya!") And right as I'm congratulating myself on successfully wooing this guy that I am so just IN to and I'm planning out future and mentally introducing him to my parents, he pulls away and says, "I can't." "What!" I practically yell. We have a few minutes of incoherent conversation that consists of him saying, "Timing bad. JUST started dating someone. I DO like you. I WOULD be dating you otherwise." My responses were something like, "Timing's never going to be perfect. We have a connection and I KNOW you feel it to. Long talks at night! Flirting! Making out! You LIKE me!" At this point, my friends are keeping a close watch on me, getting ready to pull me out of there if necessary. We have attracted some attention. But B's not giving up his, "I can't do this" stance and I'm not moving. I am a drunk 22-year-old woman who has just had her heart broken in front of all of her friends and acquaintances. And I am not going down without a fight. I don't remember what exactly B said, but whatever it was, it did not make me happy. And in my drunken state, I could not control my emotions and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and in my head I could make them go away, but in reality I could not. B just looked into my eyes and said, "No. Please don't do that. I don't want to make you cry." (As if saying that would make me feel better.) And one tear rolled down my cheek and he touched my face with this really pained look on his face that I imagine is what a person looks like at the exact second that they realize that they really have actually broken someone's heart into a million pieces and they have to live with that knowledge for the rest of their lives ... and he wiped the tear away. That was it. It was over. The floodgates opened and the waterworks started and I burst into the most outrageous fit of tears ever cried by this woman in public while ALL OF HER FRIENDS ARE WATCHING. And my roommate and another friend rush in and I just feel people's arms around me and I'm bawling but I'm moving and I don't even know if I'm walking but somehow I'm in the parking lot being rushed down the block to where my roommate's car was. I am a complete wreck and I cannot stop crying. I am BEYOND mortified that I just had a full-on Drunk Girl Freakout in a bar. I had always made fun of those girls who cried in bars, but from that moment on, I had much more sympathy for them. My friends put me in bed and I stayed with me until I pretty much cried myself to sleep. In fact, I think I cried so much that I wasn't even making tears anymore. I woke up the next morning and threw up and begged my friends to tell me that I hadn't cried at the bar and that my eyes were just puffy and red because I was having an allergic reaction to my pillow. No such luck. On Monday when I went back to work and school, people would ask me in these very hushed tones if I was okay and what had happened and why I had cried in the bar. And it was terrible. (But I survived and I was back at the bar the next week and most people hadn't really noticed and soon forgot about my little scene.)
So, I think all of the talk just got me into a B state of mind. I'm not going to spill my guts to him. He has had numerous opportunities to have me and he has never taken me up on the (very gracious) offer. He doesn't want me in such a HUGE way that he won't even use me! (That was meant to be funny.) I'm pulling back for a little while. The 25-year-old me is infinitely smarter than the 22-year-old me. I think Ms. Raitt put it best when she sang, "You can't make a heart feel something it won't." (And P.S. -- To the person who mentioned that I should listen to "Untouchable Face" by Ani Difranco -- That is the Official B Song. (That and "Grace is Gone" by Dave Matthews Band) It was always loaded into the cd player during the years of B so that I could listen to it after we'd been out. In fact, one night he pissed me off so much that I listed to it while he was in the car with me. That song rules.) (Also, there's going to be a big announcement regarding the phrase "He's just not that into you" and its usage this week on the blog.) Anyway, have a good day! I'm off to be highlighted and hairstyled.

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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

Associated Content Interview with Charming
The Hindu: Blog Sisters are here

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