March 2, 2013
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cold night…
I chat with G. He sends out feelers, hints around about going out on a date. I slip into flirtatious conversations with him, but I don’t lose the wariness. That turns out to be a good thing. G sends out tiny red flags along with the feelers.
His friends are fair weathers, too. He admits how empty they leave him. Angel me leans in to whisper, “D never admitted to that. He always felt that the fair weathers made him complete.” I mumble, “This could be nothing more than a hook to draw me in.”
What to do.
Sit on it. There’s no hurry to meet him.
Besides, I’m busy as hell with work and with the kids. I’ve spent tens of thousands on home improvement and for repairs on my car. My dad backed off. I’m feeling strong – even if I’m lonely. I debate the pros and cons of hooking up with G. I don’t kid myself. He’s very damaged. Any relationship we have will be strictly physical and short lived.
Just another item on the list…finish taxes, get cat litter, laundry, groceries, liquor store, get laid.
Do I need the heartache? I remind myself that G LOVES redheads with big boobs. I’m a slender brunette. I remind myself that I’m definitely not his dream girl.
Devil me touches my hair, “Why bother with him then? Why set yourself up to feel less than beautiful?”
She’s got a point. I look at the gorgeous redhead that he just posted on his page. She’s his ideal. I don’t measure up. It’s just a big mess waiting to break my heart. He wouldn’t want to be with me anyway. I look nothing like her. I wouldn’t look that amazing even if I spent a few tens of thousands on cosmetic surgery and hair color. I resolve to avoid G. He never contacts me except on the social networking site anyway. He’s had my phone number for weeks and never called. I suppose he would have if I was 25 years old and was sporting D-cups and looked like a model.
Fuck. That. Noise. I pick up my phone and delete his number. I’ll delete him from my contacts tomorrow. There were too many red flags anyway.
