one, two, three, four...

guard against the broken hearted dismay of having the one you want say no... no, i don't want to hang out with you, no, i can't make it to night, no... no, its just not going to work out. guard by cultivating options.

i've become so good at it. so good that i have one two, three and sometimes four options at any given time. 5, now that is just too much. so i let him go, one unseasonably warm night this fall... he wouldn't be shaked, and i had to be rude. god, i hate when i have to be rude.

you might think to yourself, hey, not bad... there are worse things in life, than having all these options. and you know, you're probably right.

but for some reason, i can't seem to shake this inner loneliness. and for some reason, even for all the options, i still get disappointed. the crush has a birthday tonight, and well... that one fell through.

but doesn't it take the hurt away, just a little, all the time i was with number 2 on saturday? and the satisfaction of the power of number one slipping, slipping away, with the steady decline of his functionality as a sex object?

a little. yes, it does.

but still.. that elusive love. i keep thinking its around the corner, one great man will swoop in, and make everything clear, and right.

i don't know. i wonder sometimes if we spend so much time hoping that we can't ever be happy with what we want, when we get it. i mean really. prince charming walks up, and takes me into the sunset. then what. it all just makes me want to puke that much more.

i apologize to the travelers out there, for the downtrodden tone of this post. trust me, soon enough, i'll be back again.