i met a doctor. a single doctor. a cute doctor.

i seriously give up...its been a long time since i have felt this vulnerable. this violated. this betrayed. this dirty. this small.

i cant close my eyes because its ALL i see. and to most it might not be a big deal but its a big deal to me and all i want to do is shower and re-evaluate how i conduct myself and make the person that apparently would "allow" such behavior to disappear down a never-ending well.

i seriously just want to claw my brain out right now...

perhaps, maybe, one of these days I will find exactly what it is i am looking for. or perhaps, maybe, one of these days i will admit to myself that i am perpetually disenchanted with whatever it is i find.

Scared Single

So I have been dating all of 3 minutes and have already encountered bat shit crazy guy. I thought there was a 17 to 1 ratio of asshole to certifiably insane. Give me a self absorbed, only partly interested dickhead any day but please keep the lunatics away. Stories of fights and cops provide great material for you and your friends when you are 23 however at the age of 36 it's just fucking pathetic.

Its all for the best anyway. Bat shit crazy guy was also a latch'r on'r so the excuse to call it quits before it called it starts was served so effortlessly to me on a silver platter. Possessive and mental are two personality traits when added together equal restraining order. Thankfully we haven't reached THAT level of deranged but don't be surprised if I wind up having cocktails with Natalee Holloway and Nicole Simpson.

I realized with this little exercise that I am not ready for this dating thing. When you sincerely appreciate the, every now and again guy, you are sincerely comfortable being single. Alone is by choice. Lonely is by design. I have adjusted to this lifestyle a little too well and at this point I just cant imagine it any different.

I am quickly realizing that I am spoiled and expect everything to be handed to me including a counter intuitive love that is beyond explanation. I am slightly afraid that I will never again be satisfied. That that only romance exquisite enough to satiate my fickle palette are those gut wrenching, irrational love affairs that make you bleed desire and hate. Perhaps I am jaded and broke. Perhaps I am searching for the Bermuda Triangle, the Loch Ness monster and Jesus Christ all in one man. Perhaps the answers I thought I possessed are a delusion based on an ideal I thought to have believed. Til death do us part or until boredom sets in.

"...only unfulfilled love can be romantic"

...he was never mine to keep

As of late putting pen to paper has been as formidable a task as reaching into my mouth and down into my gut and pulling my own intestines out of my mouth. I simply cannot tell if I have lost my wit or my will. Its not like I dont have a wealth of material to draw upon.