Chapter 89: Sometimes we don't do things we want to do so that others won't know we want to do them.

So I called Renaissance Man last night to set up our date. I hate talking on the phone, I hate even more that I am calling to set up a time, that is all, and then it turns into an hour and half conversation involving cruddy Lifetime movie scripts (one concerning killer ladybugs) and the effect of light rays on sound waves. Finally we got to talking about when to go out. He first asked me if I was free on Sunday and I told him I didn’t really like to do things on Sunday so that wasn’t going to work. Then he asked me about Friday so Friday it is. We’re going to go get dinner and then go see a movie. I asked him if he wanted to meet at the restaurant and he said he could just pick me up. He asked round about where I live and it turns out we live about 5 or 6 blocks apart, really not that far. I don’t know how I feel about that, I really don’t know how I feel about him knowing where I live. He’s a nice guy; don’t get me wrong, but the less he knows— the better. It wasn’t until after the conversation was over and I admitted to myself that we had talked for an hour and a half, that I realized that was probably a stupid move on my part, I should have nipped that conversation in the bud a long time ago. An hour and half conversation leaves at least one member of the interchange with the crazy idea that the other is interested. I could kick myself for the way I am with people I’m not interested in, I can’t understand for the life of me why I can’t act that way around people that I am interested in. Why do I have to be such an idiot around the people that I want to like me and I can be so sweet and articulate around the people that I wish would bugger off? I have trouble even making eye contact with someone that I want to look at, but I can have staring contest with everyone else.
Why is it that I hate dating so much? Sometimes I feel that I would much rather just spend my life alone. I’ve made it 25 years without decent romantic companionship, the next 25 years couldn’t be any harder, and let’s be honest, I doubt I’ll live past 60 so I think I can make it through. It’s really not a long amount of time in the great, grand scheme of things.
I think that I just need to get away for a little while, a sabbatical of sorts. I haven’t left Richmond since about June, I’m long overdue to get away and forget about this place for a while. Now I just need to find a convenient weekend to do so.