I've debated the pros and cons of blogging for a long time. I love to write, but I find that when I try to keep a journal, I often fall victim to regret of some of the things I may have said, so I'll end up ripping pages out of it. So much for liberation of thought. I guess the vulnerablity factor always gets to me...you know...because I have those secret little trolls that roam my house when I am not around, seeking out the pages of my sometimes deepest and darkest thoughts. Then they sit in the corner eating cheese (because that always seems to be the only thing I have an abundance of in my refrigerator, but that's a subject for another time and place) and finger through my captured happy moments and darkest frustrations. And mock me for being a girl. Damn them.
So I finally decided to take the leap and start blogging. Somehow, I figured if I could start sorting my thoughts out on paper, things might start making more sense to me. But my motivation was over the stupidest reason. A boy. One that I dated for four months, and our relationship ended a month and a half ago - and for some reason NOW it decides to haunt me. And not because I can really think of an abundance of reasons that I want to be with him again. In fact, I can't say I can really even think of ONE....one reason why he deserves to be back in my life. Yet I feel like a psycho-obsessive girl because I am waging mental battles with myself to expel fleeting thoughts of him from my mind. I know he's dating again. And I've tried too. I went out on a date with a guy last week, and though he was nice, there didn't really seem to be sparks. And then I had the "OH FUCK" moment. I'm on the brink of turning 35, and I'm causing myself to panic.
This past weekend was my pathetic "whoa-is me" weekend that I spent in bed watching the "Sex in the City" series from the beginning. I figured I could get some consolation from watching four other women, even if fictional, go thru relationship woes and remind me that the dating scene sucks in general. I got further affirmation by talking to three other girl friends battling relationship issues (hmmmm- trend here? Four of us??? That makes me Carrie then, because I have my own secret shoe obsession). One girl went on one date, managed to plan out their future life together in the matter of 7 hours, and was crushed when he never called back. Another just moved back to FL after a five month break-up, managed to find herself in his apartment alone-a deeper story exists here - she didn't break in...but she did manage to snoop and discover a package of condoms that wasn't around when they dated. The last one works and lives with her boyfriend, but wants to end the relationship. I guess she's in the biggest trap. She'll have to change everything about her life.
So I ponder the dating pool, and if I am ready to get my feet wet again, or am I just satisfied sun-bathing alongside the pool watching all the others play "marco polo" to see if they can capture that perfect mate? I guess the only thing that I could be sure of is that if I ran into some particular cop from Boca, I probably would be compelled to push him in the deep end.
