The Bipolar Rollercoaster Ride

August 23, 2009 at 12:14 pm (One Particular Angel, Sweet sticky things)

Up and down. Up and down.

Soaring highs and crashing lows.

My love life is definitely bipolar right now.

After yesterday’s flock of waah-waahs, I decided to be proactive. I’m not going to let a missed communication spoil my life for days, weeks or months. While I hate getting my hopes up to be shot down so quickly, it’s part of the full-meal-deal. The path to love is a series of tests. Will I flip out like a rabid wolverine because she forgot we had a drink date? Of course not. Did I want to? No.

I was disappointed that she didn’t want to see me as much as I wanted to see her.

I keep reminding myself that life happens, and whether you’re 28 or 48, shit happens and you deal. With a son, a home to run and the day-to-day responsibilities of life in general, I should be happy she has time to think of me at all, let alone carve out an hour or two. While I’m tiring of taking what I can get, the “get” is exceptional this time, and I’m ready to fight for the girl.

My arsenal? I wish I had more of a system. My biggest difficulty is showing restraint. I’ve excused myself from excessive text-messaging to her. At forty cents a pop, it adds up when you’re a wordy mofo like myself. Between texting and Twittering, I’ve learned to pack Ayn Rand-sized novels into 140-160 characters. (I despise using numbers for words, but I’m becoming good at it.) However, if there is room, I will spell and punctuate properly. I have some pride.

As I look back on previous relationships, I remind myself of what I went through to get where I ended up. I made a fool of myself, didn’t work. Tried to stay aloof, didn’t work. Decided the hell with y’all, and eventually it worked. Why is the appearance of not giving a damn so attractive to women?

I spent the rest of the weekend amusing myself in small ways. I got to playing around on the internet and had a brainstorm. I’d send her an I Saw U from the Mercury! Nothing says ‘I wanna be your dog’ like a public declaration in the back pages of Portland’s hippest rag.

To do so, I had to update my dating profile. I spent about three hours muxing about, adding pictures and answering inane questions. I made it clear in the profile that I was only doing it to get the attention of a certain girl, (HI Angel!!!) and not on the hunt for fixie-riding girls in nerd glasses. Not that I have anything against nerdy girls on bikes. They’re just not in my sights right now.

After a couple days of checking my phone for text messages, I quit looking. The weekend is over, work is calling. I got good sleep, made extra-strong coffee, gearing up to start the grind. As I sat down to check e-mail and such, I noticed a blinking red light on my phone. I had a text message.

It was from Angel. My stomach did a backflip. I almost didn’t want to look. What would it say? “Sorry, met someone. C U around.” “Ur sweet, can we just be friends?” Aughh!!! My life will be so fucked if she- I opened it.

“For sure. You may most certainly walk me to tha bus stop…” 😉


And back to the top of the rollercoaster we go…


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