Mourning The Loss Of Possibility

Funny enough, after having a conversation yesterday where I mention that most dating bloggers are f’n crazy. I then proceed along my day only proving that statement true for myself.

1. I call some strange dude that I’ve never met. I know. I know.

2. I head out to get groceries and stalk the pool on the way to and from my car looking for Mr. Hot German.

3. I break down in tears over someone I’m not dating, whom I’ve never met, and proceed to want to get obliterated with alcohol because of it.

1 & 2 are normal crazy for me. 3… well I’m gunna blame hormones, but really its more involved than that.. which honestly does make me crazy.

See, I have loved this guy for a long time. We’ve slowly been getting to know each other. When we first met, he wanted nothing to do with a relationship and I did.

He’s honestly the only person since my divorce that I haven’t “broken out into hives” at the thought of getting into a relationship. Partly because we seem to understand each other, and partly I suppose because we’re miles apart and it seems more like a fantasy than real reality.

We’ve talked while we dated other people. He’s asked my advice several times when courting a new girl, but its never been anything serious.

Then last night, he asked my advice on proposing to her. This girl he’s been dating for a little while.

See when someone I care for, asks me for advice, I auto-pilot to give them the best advice I know, without any reguard for myself. It is how I am. I could be selfish and help him destroy his relationship, but I couldn’t face myself in the mirror let alone face him. Because honestly, I sincerely just want him to be happy, even more than the desire to be the one that makes him happy.

I’d been as clear as I could be about my feelings without actually sending him naked pictures labeled “Do Me” or sending him some silly love note. I’m also not keen, since my ex, to be the one making the overtures. I really want a guy who wants me enough, not to let me go.

It doesn’t much matter anyway. He’s head over heels. A goner. I’m sure I can hope that she’ll say no, but I know she won’t. He’s that great of a catch.

So last night, I drank up while crying into my wine. Maybe I’ll find one of my own, someday.

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