I went out last night and bullshitted with the bartenders and talked to one girl at length.  She was super butch, but funny and smart.  I enjoyed myself, went to the car with a spring in my step, and talked to my workout partner and then slept like a baby.  I have a job interview in just over an hour, so I need to pop in the car and then head up there.  One of the bartenders knew where I was interviewing, because his father used to work there.  I don’t subscribe to or endorse coincidences, so I thought that was cool.

There was a time a few short years ago when I’d leave the lesbo bar and would feel so badly.  I hated the way that I felt.  I believe now that most of it was because I thought that I should be with someone.  The thing is that I met Shane in a bar four-years ago on June 19th, and that yielded a summer of fun and then all kinds of weirdness after she fell in love with me, and I convinced myself that I should make something work.  Why make something work?  Those efforts are for 3-5 years down the road when stuff hits and you have to navigate it.

For argument’s sake let’s say that there was a super fit, light-eyed girl who was single who sat with me last night and we chatted.  We can go farther and say that she got my number.  I’d still be who I am now.  It would have been exciting and interesting, but I’d have figured that perhaps she was pissed at her girlfriend and went to the bar to make her jealous.  I also would have told her that we should meet for a bike ride sometime in the the next month.

Bette was so important to me for close to a year.  When she started her stuff of breaking up with me, and then really needing to sleep with me, and then engaging in fights with me, and then calling me or showing up to make plans for sex, I just kinda let my heart die.  That’s not the kind of love that I want.  It sounds a lot more like a relationship sponsored by the sensationalist and fear-based media in which anxiety prays on what I would lose without her, or how alone I would be if we didn’t talk.  I’m alone.  No one texts or pursues me.  I’m fine.  In fact, I know that girls who I know don’t contact me because they are not the right girl for me, or am I for them.

It’s good to come home and talk to a dear friend and go to sleep.  This friend of mine only gives advice when I ask, and we know many deep, dark secrets about each other.  I would never let those go in one direction.  I don’t fire questions at someone to get data, so I have a way to keep them needing me.  There is a genuine, open, and honest experience with others.  It’s authentic. That’s the path that I walk.