February 27

I’m trying to figure out how I really feel about things not working out the way I’d hoped with Alex, and so far, it seems OK. Really. He’s still embedded in my thoughts for some reason, and the idea of him is still running as my brain wallpaper, so it’s not like I’m over it already or anything. But at least I’m starting to come to rational terms with the truth—which is that he’s just not that into me, or, even worse, just wants to be friends.

Ooof, can’t pretend that I’m entirely OK with that, but what choice do I have but to accept it? He’s given me no indication that he wants to get together—come on it’s been over a month since our second date already—and he’s only called when I seem to be pulling the plug on things. He doesn’t seek me out otherwise, and he doesn’t try to make plans when we do “connect”. I just have to accept that it’s not going to happen and try to move forward.

So what does “moving forward” look like? Hell if I know, but my birthday’s in a little over two weeks, so I have to start thinking again about what I want to accomplish in the next year, my last before I hit my forties. “My forties”—now that’s a slap in the face. I’m a year away from turning forty, and I have nothing tangible to show for all those years of experience and “accomplishment”. Like I keep telling anyone who’ll listen, I don’t feel I’ve gained much since age nineteen, and that was almost twenty years ago. The only thing I can say I’m truly proud of for that time period is that I finally went back to college and graduated. I’d like to say I had many more points of pride, but I can’t think of a single thing beyond that.

Not to belittle that accomplishment at all—it was a huge thing to go back to Cal at age thirty-five among all the traditional-age students and finally get it done. Yes, it messed with my head, and I think that’s why I feel stuck at nineteen now and have a boyfriend who’s twenty-two. Strange thing happened yesterday—I ran into Curt Heredia while waiting for Jason at Turtle Bay. Curt was that guy from Bewitch who was Robby Allen’s best friend, and he was really cute and totally trouble. He was some kind of athletic god with a billion friends and way outside of my social sphere. As if I had a social sphere.

He actually thought I might have been a cheerleader. As if! He kept naming people who I’d known of but didn’t ever have any social contact with. He didn’t realize I was a total outcast, which makes me wonder how on earth he recognized me at all. He said it was my voice, but that’s not likely. I mean, I was eleven and twelve when he might have heard it, and I certainly don’t sound twelve anymore. Very strange. The best part is that I didn’t recognize him one whit. He was totally changed, would never have thought in a million years that he was Curt Heredia. Not very attractive, but still had that glassy, cocky look in his eye. But he was anything but cocky, more teasing and fun.

I wonder what it would have been like for me if I’d been in his crew. I wasn’t in their league, socially, looks-wise, or mentally. I couldn’t have handled it to save my life. I think that when I met and connected with Alex, it made me think I could be attractive and interesting to a successful, established guy who is actually attractive and interesting to me. But I think that was a lot of wishful thinking rather than a real connection. Hence, it didn’t continue beyond the second date. I don’t mean to say that I’m not worthy or whatever, but just that it’s not likely to happen again with such serendipity. I didn’t have to do anything to get his attention! But I couldn’t keep it, not even in the “short” run. So I’m not exactly confident of my ability to “create lightning in a jar” again.

So, I’m not exactly afraid of the idea that if I don’t find exactly the right guy for me, I’ll just be alone. I was thinking that way before my dates with Alex, so it shouldn’t be a stretch to go back. But it would be a hell of a lot easier if I hadn’t had a small taste of what I’d be missing. Lots of people go thru this, and lots of people are alone, unloved by someone special and have no hope of being otherwise. Over the last few weeks especially, I’ve looked at homeless people or handicapped people or just unattractive people and thought how sad it was for them that they’d never have a chance like the one I have with Alex. I shouldn’t have thought such a terrible thing, because it’s come back to bite me quite squarely in the ass.