The man I was going to marry didn't contact me again, not even responding to my follow-up message after our date saying I had a good time. Maybe he had a head injury, developed amnesia, and forgot what an amazing ninety minutes we shared over craft beers in Ballard?
I reacted by breaking all the glass objects in my apartment, throwing my coffee table out the window, downing several bottles of wine, and sleeping with the two bartenders from the Irish pub down the street.
Or not.
I have rejected dozens of men in the last year so when I get blown off, it stings a little but feels refreshing, a blast of excitement in an otherwise dull dating game. Like countless women before me, I pick myself apart. Am I too fat? Did I have a bad hair day? Should I have worn something sluttier? Was my outfit too slutty? AM I NOT MARRIAGE MATERIAL??????
And then I take a deep breath and move on.
I'm in Europe now so dating is suspended for the next two weeks, unless I meet the love of my life in Poland. Anything is possible.
I reacted by breaking all the glass objects in my apartment, throwing my coffee table out the window, downing several bottles of wine, and sleeping with the two bartenders from the Irish pub down the street.
Or not.
I have rejected dozens of men in the last year so when I get blown off, it stings a little but feels refreshing, a blast of excitement in an otherwise dull dating game. Like countless women before me, I pick myself apart. Am I too fat? Did I have a bad hair day? Should I have worn something sluttier? Was my outfit too slutty? AM I NOT MARRIAGE MATERIAL??????
And then I take a deep breath and move on.
I'm in Europe now so dating is suspended for the next two weeks, unless I meet the love of my life in Poland. Anything is possible.
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