Back on Track, Jack...

The last week has been the ninth circle of hell at best. I had to turn down a great job opportunity for the availability of going back to school, not to mention let a friend and ex-employer down in the process. He had to think of himself and his family when taking the job he has now and so do I. Not only that, but I've had to deal with my tire being slashed this past week. Living without a car ain't pretty. I've got a good feeling we all know who it was since it happened to be flat the morning after leaving Superman's place. I'm not here to point fingers, I'm here to grow the fuck up and be in a stable healthy relationship with someone I can potentially have something with. Since the beginning if the week I have had to change my tire twice, jump start a car, and get accepted to my school of choice. Can't say I don't feel accomplished. You all will be happy to know I've decided on a Journalism major. Who'd have thunk it?

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Like I said being without a car has many disadvantages, but I'm happy to report that there are a few perks to spending quality time with friends and significant others on my travels from points A to B. We'll start with SM...

So I just got back from date I've-lost-count. SM picked me up from a very tiresome day at work and offered to take me home after we had dinner. As it always seems, the crap waiter took our order in such a hurry you'd think he was missing the WWE fight he'd been waiting all year for. We talked about the usual roommate crap and my week from hell. As the conversation progressed I got that Drew Barrymore circa Scream feeling that I was being watched, minus the creepy phone call part. Sure enough I looked the the next table to see [insert witty sweater vest gay comment] giving me more than just the once over. I never get used to the feeling of being eye raped no matter the frequency of the encounters. If you are not familiar with the term eye rape please refer to previous blogs. I brushed it off and ordered a margarita with dinner to soften the feeling of being a slave at auction. We finished dinner and our cigarettes without making eye contact. Almost clear! He paid the tab and as we left I saw it again out of the corner of my eye and assumingly so did SM. Without skipping a beat he slid his arm around my waist and walked me out. He may as well have peed in a circle around me and at that point I'd never felt better about the notion.

While on the subject I'm going to give some major kudos, not the MySpace blog kind, to my long time friend the Devenator. In knowing that I am a dater not a relationship type, plus the fact that she works in my complex I asked her for a ride and dinner. The Dev has been in a three year relationship with this guy who may as well be Prince Charming with a beer belly. Of course I went to her with all my relationship issues. She and I are very similar in our life views as being optimistic but not naive. She held my hand, figuratively, and walked me through the roommate and career issues while interjecting her own stories. Then came my big topic of conversation, the only four letter word that makes even me cringe... love. I've been fighting the urge to blurt it out to SM for about a week now. As I explained she interjected and corrected my wording and mindset on the subject. She pointed out that I loved many quirks about him but when asked the question "Was I in love?" I answered no. She explained something to me that changed me forever. I am an I love you slut. I may love traits of things, inanimate objects, and ideas but I was not in love with them. This one statement made my world turn upside down. She was right, but I was growing in my love with him and will one day wake to realize I do love all of him. She said that is the day I will say it. I won't say it over a romantic dinner but in the pick up line at the Chinese place down the street with the dumpling soup that is so good it likely methamphetamine based, and more likely over that subject. That is what real love is and if love is truly that corny then maybe I can come to terms with it.

Bradley James