One thing that I hate about myself: I get so excited about something, and then it doesn’t come to fruition (or just doesn’t go the way I thought it would), and then I am not only broken-hearted, but then angry at myself about being so excited in the first place, and setting myself up for a disappointment. So, knowing that about myself makes me question every friggin’ little thing so that I am NOT disappointed, and that leads to paranoia.
So, why the rant? Because I am currently in the state of paranoia about Andrew. To recap: first date a week ago Sunday. Fabulous time all last week – saw him four times. Spend the night on Saturday/Sunday at his house, after which he scraped my windows and told me it was “his job” (sigh). When I asked if I would talk to him later, he said “yes” in a way that made me think that I would.
Haven’t heard from him since. And have I called him? No, because I am worried that I have scared him off with a couple of questions that I asked him on Saturday (“Am I the only person you’re dating?” “Do you like me as much with my clothes on?”) and/or that I will be too forward and/or that he is going to tell me that he’s met someone else (like the last half dozen boys that I’ve liked have). Paranoia.
And is there a reasonable explanation for why I haven’t heard from him? Probably. Am I too scared to find out what it is? Yes. Am I an idiot? Very possibly.
Damn it. I hate, hate, hate having to date again.