let’s just be clear here. i’m not ready to date.
it’s only been about a month now, and the ex and i are still sharing the same space (and to his credit, he is the most kind and agreeable person i have ever broken up with). i need to focus my efforts on things like moving, working, breathing, and cuddling my dog. i need to not be an idiot and jump into anything before i’ve had a chance to regroup and recover- at least a little. you know, common sense… blah blah blah, good advice… yadda yadda yadda…
the sensible path sorta sucks. it’s lonely. and painful. and sad. so you start to try to make the breakup, the newfound single status (set carefully to your facebook for all to casually notice), more appealing than it really is. you dream of the possibilities. you start to remember everyone you’ve ever had a crush on and stalk them to determine current availability (just in case) (for later):
your cute java lab professor from 2005 (cosby sweaters aside)– fell off the internet radar is 2007. possibly married. possibly grew an unsightly beard. it’s hard to tell.
that guy who used to stare at you at the whole foods– only know first name. too ashamed to ask friends who work at whole foods for details. mission aborted.
the #1 scrabble player in maine (don’t judge) was hot 6 years ago. maybe he still is? yes. and you have one mutual friend on facebook. sadly, she will not return your pleas for more information.
you might have walked by the house of that guy in your neighborhood that you made out with that time. twice.
and you might have eventually ended up making a fake profile on ok cupid because you’re scared that you’re 34 years old and all the truly serviceable mates have already been scooped up by smarter and better looking women with an innate understanding of how the game is played. really, you were JUST LOOKING…
and then you find your ex husband’s profile and swiftly shut the tab and never go back.
it’s true. i’m not ready. but when my parents forced me to ingest the vile essence that is cod liver oil every sunday when i was a kid, they let me chase it with orange juice. TOLERABLE. i just need to find some orange juice to make all the scary parts about starting over and being alone go down a little easier.
it’s probably not hooking up with my old java lab professor. probably. but i can’t honestly say that crafternoons with friends or taking up jogging even come sort of close to the excitement of making out with someone new. i know it’s the wrong choice. just don’t yell at me too much if i accidentally make it.