Two Minds

I was suppose to go to Canada today to meet a woman, but that fell through yesterday afternoon. I am of two minds about it. I'm relieved that I didn't have to cough up what it would have cost me to get there (a five-hour drive) and to stay there (hotel... as cheap, though, as I would have made that) simply for the prospect of a two-hour get-together. I'm disappointed, though, as these were the most solid plans we've -- I've -- yet fashioned for meeting her.

Things have been pushed back for at least a couple of weeks, I'm guessing, for a time in which she'll actually be passing through town on her way elsewhere.

What has made this somewhat challenging is that we both seem to be dancing around our attraction for each other. Half of me thinks that if I were to say something about my romantic notions, it would make us both breathe easier for having had the veil lifted. The other half of me, of course, is afraid of the letdown and some eventual public humiliation; public in the sense of the mutual internet crowd with which we run.

I have been waiting for some sort of seam to open up in which I see some sort of clue as to her intent. This is all so foolish, I know. I know that the direct way is ultimately the best way, but I rely too much on my senses, my instincts. I want to know there is a mutuality here before I seriously consider discussing it with her.

I've been hurt horribly twice in my life, so it's not so much that I fear the pain of rejection, because it would be nothing compared to either the break-up of my marriage or the surreal circumstances of an ill-fated relationship that followed shortly after that.

That was years ago now, and while I've not been the type to give much thought to my relationship status (I've not minded being essentially alone for thirteen years), there surely have been those moments in which I rue my aloneness. Still, I trust my instincts.

Me: Talk to her!

Me: No!