Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Whatever you do, DO NOT PUSH THE RED BUTTON!

It is a truth universally aknowledged that men's and women's dating patterns don't match. Or do they? I've had a very recent experience that leads me to believe that at least on some occasions they are not so different after all. While there are tons of material on how we behave in a dating scenario, why men don't call and what the do's and don'ts are (especially for women), my specific problem involved a very serious and insidious condition that may afflict both sexes and that I had actually read about somewhere, but really did not take the necessary precautions to mitigate and therefore was completely overwhelmed by: INFATUATION. And a very bad case of it on top of that.

In my defense I need to add at this point that I had recently broken off my engagement and in my mind I was completely and utterly cured and therefore in no danger of making an emotional mess. Right. Of course. Anyway, fate has a very quirky sense of humor because I was pulled in by someone who had been my dream all through highschool and who suddenly was starting to show an interest - in me! Now, the good thing about chatting and the telephone is that there can be absolutely no doubt that the other person actually means you. Particularly when they talk to you more than once. And he did. But in the aftermath of my most recent heartbreak my very reasonable conscious was resolved to stand its ground and not to let me get carried away by castle building in the air and by blowing things out of proportion. Right. Of course. Again. Not only did I blow this thing out of proportion.. I blew reason straight out the window with it, too. They say that infatuation, also known as addictive love because it literally has the same effect on the brain as cocaine, is the state of being completely carried away by unreasoned passion. In this state there was no concentrating on anything, waiting was agony, his phone calls equalled happiness shots and finally the actual dates were - like a ticking time bomb. At first, everything seemed fine, the awkward crab-like back-and-forth-sideways-walking dating dynamic took place but then...came that one fatal moment. Any infatuation victim will remember that moment vividly. It is like having one of those red, juicy, shiny buttons in front of you with a clear, unequivocal message written right above it in big, fat, easy-to-read letters: DO NOT PUSH THIS BUTTON. You know perfectly well that you're not supposed to push it. You are 120% positive that it is a bad idea (whatever crazy delusion that might be). And so you watch yourself slowly approaching the button, pulled by something more powerful than all the warnings, all the danger signs. While you are pushing it down slowly, a feeling of utter bliss and superiority kicks in that makes you think you just had the most brilliant idea anyone has ever had in the history of humankind.

What happens next is a New York blackout. While all the brain wiring sinks into total darkness because reasonable thinking has suddenly left the building, a single spark lights a mind-bogglingly exciting firework, with brilliant colors, beautiful to behold ....

By the time the light comes back on, what you're left with is, well, the hope that somehow, by some miracle, the firework will lead to something less futile. Hope dies last, we all know that.

I admit that I did not want to see the truth for what it was at first. I was devastated, naturally. Why, I had already seen my future way beyond in time and space only to be left with nothing but a new learning experience. Bugger. I know I will be much more careful next time to avoid a crash landing.

Still, what a funky trip that was! ;)

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