Ok, this is starting to get really frustrating.
My own screaming desire is clouding any of my objective judgment skills. I can't get a handle on what exactly it all means. I mean, men aren't really all that decode-able anyway. Still, intuitively I just can't get a read on him, and that drives me nuts. I think I aimed a little high this time though. There is too much competition in this pool, and my best weapons aren't working.
I guess it doesn't matter. By now I'm half doubting that I even would want the complication in my life if I could get it. Of course I'm lonely, and despite my stand-offish veneer I'm just as desperate as any other human for physical interaction. Perhaps that's been blinding me to the fact that the last thing on the planet I need is another charming, manipulative sociopath.
I can't escape the pull though. It's primal, in the base of my brain. I can't control the way his scent grabs me, but I also hate how stupid and drained I can feel at the end of a particularly mixed-message day. It's when I wish I were myself actually a sociopath so I could turn off these "feelings" and be done with it. Not just sublimate them, or ignore them, or learn to live with them, but truly just turn them off and go about my life. To silence the clamoring crowd of voices in my skull screaming about the ways in which I am unworthy, to not care if any human being I'm attracted to could ever desire me, to be immune to the creeping dread of a future alone. This would be a dream.
All I can do at the moment is try and remind myself of how fabulous I really am, and if that fact escapes the hometown hottie, well, that's his loss. Despite him appearing to be all the things I spent the last year and a half wishing for in a person, there is the distinct possibility that it's just a coincidence. I have to have faith that at some point there will be someone for me, and I have to let go of my desire to give in to self-pity.
