I took down my dating profile online. It was ridiculous. I was frantically searching for someone — anyone — to go out with to beat Phil to the punch. It was like the time when Steve, one of my high school boyfriends, dumped me because he was going to be a senior and didn’t want to be tied down. But then he started dating this awful blond girl a couple weeks later. For revenge, I made out with one of this best friends, went to prom with another good friend and dated yet another a year later.
Oh, and it also reminded me of the frantic online searching I was engaged in when I met Phil. I was looking for someone to date to win the competition with Simon of who’d move on first. Just like when I met Simon, I was trying to beat another guy who didn’t want to date me anymore to the punch of dating again. I’d get out there first and therefore be better off. He could be jealous. Didn’t seem like such risky behavior because I rarely like anyone enough to go out with a second time. But Phil was just so darn cute and sweet. And Simon, very persuasive.
Anyway, this needing to “win” the competition of moving on is killing me. I’m not ready. It’s so clear that I’m not. And being back online makes me sad and frantic. The final straw that made me take down my profile (well actually there were two):
1. I emailed a guy who winked at me and he never emailed me back. I didn’t even want to email him, I just did because I figured I should even though I know winking is weak and non-committal.
2. I got an email from this guy I dated three years ago. He was decent enough, but I just wasn’t feeling it and it was over after three dates. (Probably because he actually liked me and was interested in having a relationship with me. How utterly boring.) Anyway, his email said, “I’m surprised you’re still single.” I mean, I guess that’s a complement. But I took it the wrong way.
So I pissed 35 bucks away on trying to beat Phil back into the dating world. It felt terrible, it didn’t work. I made up for the cash though by going to the library for my self-help stash that may or may not explain to me what’s going wrong. Damn if I’m not going to try to find out. After all, tomorrow is the 8th and that is officially when things stop sucking. I think it really will, and not just because it’s a new moon tonight and I decided burning a piece of paper with Phil’s name on it would help me refocus attention on myself and let go of caring about what he’s doing. Yes, I really burned a piece of paper with his name on it. Whatever. Someone told me one time it can be very therapeutic. I don’t know if it worked. We’ll see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow. Either I’ll feel light and relieved or I’ll just smell like a goddamn campfire.