Filling the Void

It is apparent that I have voids to fill- that is an undeniable, unmistakable, and absolute truth.

While I feel these voids are spiritual, interpersonal, emotional, and intimate in nature, I seem to be inclined to find gentlemen suitors who are interested in filling only the physical voids, which, to be fair, are more easily visible to the world, save for the few voids that are guarded by walls of cloth instead of walls built with the bricks of my past.

Two Choices, One [Preferred] Outcome

I've always wanted a boyfriend.  I've also always wanted my Master's degree.

Both will take a lot of effort, sacrifice, planning, possible loss of friends, maybe even some separation from family because of time restraints and new responsibilities.



.....but only one will bring me that much closer to a six-figure income...


                                             ....and will definitely not try to sleep with my best friend.


Decisions, decisions.

Small [Friggin'] World.

Nothing like participating in an event ran by the former flame who pre-dates you with the shared former flame. Oh, and she knows who you are. She knows full well who you are...


Yea, that's a fun feeling. It's nice. Just nice.

Missed Direction

Really wished I had face-pushed you out the way the millisecond you introduced me to your friend.

Creative Measures

Me: "I don't know how else to put this: [final hesitation before taking the dive] I've had a crush on you for the past 6 months now..."

Him [Pauses before he replies]: "I'm leaving for Italy in two weeks to meet with the parents of my betrothed."

Me [Pause] [Heart Sinks] [With a pained chuckle, replies]: "Well, that's one way to say 'no'."

The First of Many Bad Signs

I should have known he was a terrible match the moment he told me the choice he made when he confronted the guy who accidently roofied his drink back in college.

"I said, 'look, man, I can either report you to the dean or beat your a$$." He recounted.

"So you beat his a$$ and reported him to the dean, right?" I pried.

"Nah, I gave him a choice." He explained.

"So what did he choose?" I inquired, fearing I already knew the answer...

"I beat his a$$. [Shrugs] He said he was sorry." He responded, as if he were describing the obvious decision made by a naughty child faced with either a spanking or three-weeks-long time out.

"Yea, he's sorry for roofying the wrong drink. Not for being a terrible person. He's now going to be more meticulous in his date-rape attempts, you do realize?"

"I mean, I guess, but I knew who he was. I'd been to parties at his house. So, I mean. [Shrugs]"

I think as a self preservation mechanism, my memory of the conversation grows fuzzy right about then...*sighs* [bows and shakes head.]

Bent Out of Shape

I don't like yoga. It's too slow. Gives me plenty of time to slow down and catch up with all my demons...