What it do, dear friend.

I know no one reads this, so I'm just going to go on and talk like I talk to myself. And yet, here I am, talking like a crazy person. Thus is my life.

The last week has been, in a word, highly confusing. (I know that's two words, but I don't count adjectives. So there.) I was granted the unparalleled chance, thanks to early finals, to spend time with a lovely young woman. It's been almost three years since I got out of a relatively long-term relationship (nine months), and since then, I have done absolutely nothing in the dating/romance department. I don't know whether it's been a desire to close myself off, or if I've just been lazy, but it's been a while. To be fair, I haven't really met anyone that I've thought about pursuing. That is not to say that I have super-high standards, I know I'm not that attractive. I've just not connected to anyone on that level.

Over the last few weeks, I've gotten to hang out with Her pretty regularly, and it was pretty awesome. For the first time, I met someone with whom I thought I could forge that connection that I've missed, something beyond the "Friend Zone." The Friend Zone is my enemy. Because I don't generally tend to go after women as strongly or as fiercely as I suppose many others do, if I am interested in someone, it's basically only me that knows it, because I don't do anything about it. Part of that is my overwhelmingly gentlemanly nature, which, contrary to popular belief, is not a chick magnet. I don't know why I can be the most acerbic, sharp-tongued asshole when I don't need to, but when women are concerned, I turn into Cousin Ashley, and am all old-time Southern Gent.

As I lamented my concern over whether or not I might get stuck in the Friend Zone, she said to me: It doesn't matter how fast you move, what matters is that it's clear where you're headed. Taking that advice to heart, I made a point to interact with Her not as I interact with female friends, but something apart, hoping for something more. I do move slowly. I don't kiss on the first date, and I probably wouldn't on the second. I'm certainly out of practice, but I'm also afflicted with a crippling fear of being deemed too forward, so I tend not to act on any feelings until I'm reasonably sure the other party feels the same way. I thought She did. I was working my way up to it, had asked Her to dinner, was going to go to the Zoo, and had it all planned out. Of course, because this is MY life, nothing went as planned.

Wednesday I went downtown to help Her move out of her apartment. I figured "Hey, She wants to spend time with me, by ourselves, when I'm not a drunk idiot, and that's a good sign." I should've kissed her at some point during the day, in retrospect. Being an asshole, I of course didn't. We sang, we packed, we talked. I basically carried the entire contents of Her apartment out an annoying self-locking door into a giant wooden box on the street. I don't begrudge Her that, because if I hadn't wanted to do it, I could've made an excuse. I didn't, and unknowingly sealed my fate, or so it would appear. That day we talked about our plans for the rest of the week, which consisted of a trip to the Zoo on Thursday, followed by dinner. (I suggested somewhere in the valley, a favorite of mine, but we left it up in the air).

As the evening went on, however, things began to change. Apparently She had promised a mutual friend that She'd hang out with her before she left, and so asked if she could come with us to the zoo. Being an optimist, I immediately thought "Oh, She likes me, and is nervous about spending the day with me by Herself. Yes!," but was very clearly, in retrospect, mistaken. We left it at that while I drove Her to Her new digs, wherein, apparently, She and Her group had a concert, which I was honored to be able to attend. After the concert, She realized that we couldn't do the zoo on Thursday, as she had academic obligations, and I wasn't going to hold that against her, so we rescheduled the zoo for Friday, tentatively.

Much later, we were talking to a pair of her friends, and conversation turned to Her apparent romantic interest in a currently absent member of Her group, which shocked me only inasmuch as I had assumed Her to be at least passively interested in me, but by so openly discussing the other man with her friend, she disabused me of that illusion rather quickly. Another member of the group joined her on her bed somewhat later, suggesting that they go to a party so that they could "find some men," and She, sitting inches from me, brightly agreed, but we didn't end up going to the party, which I suppose was in my favor. Clearly, I was misreading signs, here.

I went home that night, confused and concerned, but still willing to fight the good fight.

The next evening, after She finished Her tests, I went back to the house, to hang out, but the dinner plans I thought we had were to be postponed, again. We, instead, went to get yogurt, and anyone who knows me knows that I'm an Iced Cream man, and don't understand why every college student has a hard-on for yogurt, but I went anyway, to be a sport, and, to be fair, enjoyed it. We drove back to Her place, She completely sated, me hungry as all get out, but I wasn't about to complain. As it turns out, She had a lot to do for some of Her friends' graduation presents, so I just sort of toodled around in the background, not going much.

Luckily, some of Her housemates were smoking a bowl, and were kind enough to include me, at which point we listened to techno and I did yoga stretches (search me as to why). I had, probably, hoped to loosen up to ask them their advice, but the Green has a certain effect on the memory, and I never got around to it. Woe is me. That night She was bushed, and I was high, so I went home to sleep it off, but we still hadn't finalized any plans, so I knew at that point that the zoo was a pipe dream.

Friday, I slept until about 3 in the afternoon, precluding any possible zoo trip, and rather expected to wake up to at least one missed call or text message, but, as to be expected, there was nothing, and I got a call late in the afternoon, but didn't answer it, as I was in a funk. No voicemail. There was a party that night, which I attended with my sister and some friends, but it doesn't merit mention in this post other that in passing. (yes, it was that bad) Apparently, I texted Her that night, which I don't remember, but She responded the next evening with some excuse, which I believe, but didn't make me feel any better. Since Friday, our conversation has gone from almost constant to virtually nonexistent. So crumbles the cookie.

After talking to my best friend about the happenings, it was brought to my attention that our own mutual friend has known Her for a good deal longer than me, and that in his opinion, she is, by nature, a very flirtatious person, and that I more than likely was reading far too much into the relationship. Disappointed, I went home dejected, to say the very least. I knew at that point, that one of two things had happened: 1. I so firmly entrenched myself into the Friend Zone that she felt comfortable asking me to help her move or 2. She knew that I liked her, and chose to use that to Her advantage, manipulating me in the process. I like to hope that She wasn't just using my goodwill to do a dirty job, but I apparently don't know Her as well as I had thought or hoped.

Today, I spent 8 hours locked in a tiny, windowless room filled with boxes and files, and had nothing to entertain myself but my phone, on which I proceeded to watch her youtube videos, and listen to The Rescues on repeat. The Rescues speak to my soul, and I managed, just barely, not to break into tears for various reasons. I'm not a crier, or a Bitch, but I'll admit that I am, if not hurt, then at least confused. I took a chance, and made myself vulnerable, hoping for the best, but I just ended up hurting myself. Again.

Thanks for listening, computer.

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