Sometimes I get weird ideas in my head about people, and my relationships with people, and if I was supposed to do something different with people at a certain time in my life.
Like the time I made out with that one guy just once, but in the middle of the make out I ran out of the room and went and crawled into bed with Nick. Why did I do that?
Or the time I hooked up with a guy outside of a bar, but stopped the hook up abruptly and ran to find my friend Leanna.
Okay, so maybe I just question my weird encounters with guys.
The other night I was Facebook stalking a past flame. And his current girlfriend. Who has a ridiculous name that I hate for other reasons, too. The stalking got me thinking too much, and then I was consumed with it, so I did what any normal girl would do. I started playing "our" songs and tried to figure out why I ever let such a gem go.
This got me started on a long, horrible road of remembering past relationships and trying to figure out what I keep doing wrong that has led me to where I'm at...33 and single, without even a glimpse of hope that I will someday get married and have kids.
There was one guy, a very long time ago...his name was Joe. No wait. I don't remember what his name was. But we'll call him Joe.
Joe liked me. It was a summer thing. He and I worked together, and for some reason, he was into me. He was really cute and we had a cute, flirty, innocent relationship for those three months.
Let me say this again. He was REALLY cute. And the other girls we worked with seemed to be jealous that he was into me, which made him even cuter. And he was hilarious, and he would call me out on my bullshit in a way that made me want to bullshit with him even more.
Finally, on my last day of work before I headed back to BV for the next school year, Joe asked me out. I gave him my number and told him to call me later that night.
I ended up hanging out with my brother and my (his) friends that night, and I didn't want to deal with the drama of bringing a new guy into the group, so I just didn't answer the phone when he called. I wanted to hang out with him, but it was my last night of hanging out with my friends and I wanted to see them, too.
When I got home that night (or the next morning, more than likely) my mom had written a message for me. "Joe called. He said it was really nice to meet you and he wishes he had gotten a chance to know you better."
And that was it. No more Joe. Never saw him again.