Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

When the sly become too slimy…

As individuals we are able to place a threshold on any juncture, dictating what we are willing to endure, and where that line is crossed causing disappointment, anger, frustration, or a slew of other emotions that indicates our dissatisfaction. Sometimes this threshold is an invisible electric fence that shocks you into clarity. I’ve always believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt; assume the best until the worst is revealed. Most say this is naïve, in fact, I know it is, but because of my general cynicism and pessimism in my day to day, I allow this indulgence to balance out my outlook on life. If I believe in the general good intentions of people, then maybe it’s ok that I’m actually really judgmental when it comes to discerning their competence level—see? equilibrium. 

Ironically, I think, I’ve encountered enough situations in which, maintaining this outlook, should put my own aptitude into question. The age old: fool me once…fool me twice…comes to mind, and yet I think I’ve gotten fooled so many times, I might as well walk into situations blindfolded, because I wouldn’t be able to spot an elephant riding a small tricycle right in front of me anyway.

Cue Chaz*. The intriguing boy who didn’t catch my eye initially, but intrigue reeled me in like a catfish caught on a sparkly lure. While we met back in October (boy 2), thanks to my good friend Elusha, we maintained a pen-pal friendship for months until this summer when he finally breezed through a bar, leaving me in a whirlwind of  indecisive feelings. Here are the facts: he has a girlfriend. He phones me (seems so anachronistic these days). We text. We converse effortlessly. We have an undeniable attraction for each other. He still has a girlfriend. My logical, intelligent, put-together-self knows that this is leading nowhere, and by staying in touch I am not forging a good friendship, I am in fact leading myself into a deep abyss of disappointment and mental delusion. My hopeful, fairytale believing, girly, la-di-dah-self wants to continue to live in that state of delusion believing that this friendship is real, and Chaz is not a slimy ball of goo, treating both his girlfriend and me like dog turds. Alas, our latest texting exchange cannot be denied. Like a canoe heading down a drying riverbed, with every stroke forward, the water level lowers. Inevitably, leaving the rower stranded in the middle, with no choice than to stand up, abandon the boat and walk back into the forest, to find a new path.

Chaz: “I like you, and my relationship is about to end for no cause related to you. That being said I also have no intention of getting back into a relationship, nor do I intend to have a rebound lay or gf. Do I want to sleep with you? Very much. I would right now to be honest. But because I have no intention of getting back into a relationship I definitely don’t want to lead you on. I like being your friend, I like the idea of other things too. But know that when this…disastership ends I’m gonna want a long period of me time. I mean, I’m not looking for anything. I just think you’re bad ass and want to do whatever you have the most fun doing. So whatever you want to do I’m cool with.”

There should be a disclaimer when you meet people. Seriously.

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