Charming, but single

Seriously.

I do want you to like me. Because I am really starting to like you a lot. And I think we could have a lot of fun together.

I like that you are completely relaxed around me and I like that I feel fairly relaxed around you – to be honest, I’m unable to completely relax around any man, because I always have my guard slightly raised because my emotions alternate between fear of rejection and worry that I’m doing the wrong thing and that my thighs are too big and that this is too much cleavage and that you are going to notice how my over confidence goes away when you look at me like that and I just feel my insides slowly melt and I think that if you knew that I was starting to care you might worry that I was going to become needy and that I was going to crowd you.

And if I could change that I let the physical aspect of this escalate so quickly, I would. But I can’t and I don’t think losing sleep over it is really going to make it better. Frankly, I don’t really regret it all that much.

I like that you kiss me in public when I see you. I like big smile that spreads across your face when I walk up. It makes me feel special and wanted and sexy and all of those things are very important to me. I love when you wrap your arm around me and when I am with you I know that you are focused on me and only me and that isn’t something I am used to and I never thought it would feel this good and, to be honest, that scares me more than anything else.

I feel like I have to pry things out of you. And you never make plans in advance, or at least not with me. And it feels very undignified for me to constantly try to pin you down – your kiss says you want me, your behavior makes me wonder. Do you find your desire for me at the bottom of a bottle of beer? I can’t change that, but I surely want to know. Because I’ll be alone for forever before settling for that, my friend.

Dating at this age is hard. When I was 16 and I liked a guy, I wondered if he’d ask me to a football game or to be his date to a formal. Ten years later, I think, “His job is stable and that would be a good basis for raising a family.” And I try to go into these things with my heart and not my ovaries, but we’re not juniors in high school anymore. And I wish I could go back to those days when a corsage was all I needed, but I am a realist. And I am not going to pretend to be content being anyone’s plaything, arm candy or convenience.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this and maybe I’m rewarding your non-planning lifestyle by continuing to see you. Maybe I’m just conditioned to be fearful because I wear previous letdowns close to my heart. And I will never forget them and that isn’t your fault, but if you could just try to reassure me or send me some sort of sign that this real and not something I’ve imagined, then maybe I would just let go and freefall and dive into your arms and tell my mom about you and introduce you to my friends and not worry about looking like a fool. Yet again.

That is what I really want to do. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long, long time. I just need a sign.

From you.