Losing track of time; Losing my mind

I keep looking at the clock.

Keep looking at the date.

And then at my phone. To see if she's called. Or texted.

The answer is still the same. No.

I'm losing track of time, losing my mind at the same time.

I know I get to see her tomorrow. I know this. And it brings me a lot of comfort.

But at the same time... having not seen her since last Tuesday night... and not having talked to her since late Saturday night -- a conversation that I barely remember, and actually thought I had dreamed when I awoke Sunday -- I'm literally aching to hear her voice... aching to hold her hand, to wrap my arms around her and hug her. Each night, I fall asleep wishing she was next to me, arms wrapped tightly around a spare pillow; it is the only way I can fall asleep.

I'm scared. Scared of what is keeping her from calling. Scared of what she'll reveal when she returns.

Please send any spare positive vibes and feelings my way. I need all I can get.

Eternity

Seems like such a cliche, but the truth is this: She's been gone a full week (as of tonight), and it feels quite literally like an eternity. I've had my ups and my downs, but right now I'm just wishing for a phone call or a text... ANYTHING to let me know that she's willing to take a moment out of her day and her vacation to get in touch with the man who loves her more than life itself.

I haven't heard from her since Saturday night. I am nonplussed.

I'm a buoyed by the fact that she returns tomorrow night, that I'll likely hear from her sometime tomorrow (when she lands in Houston, I hope), and that I'll be the one waiting for her, with open arms and a grin on my face, when she steps off that escalator at Denver International.

And as my friend Lysa said today, "Just love her. Unconditionally."

Guess I'll have to do that.

Yes, I am.

Clearly.

Am I crazy?

Maybe.

How she makes me feel

Like I'm the luckiest guy on the planet.

Called me yesterday, international long distance be damned, during the day, and just chatted. Talked about how much she was missing me... talked about how much she wished I was there... talked about how things were going, hinted that the ex was being something of a douchebag... made me feel really, really great.

And then, late last night, called me again. She woke me up, but I could not have cared less about that; I was thrilled to hear her voice. Just repeated how much she loved me. She was drunk, and had been at the discotek, but "couldn't wait" to get back to the room and call me.

Just to tell me how much she loves me.

So, again, I'm walking on air. Sigh.

NP: Girl Inside My Head

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An Ode to My Friend Patrick

My friend Patrick is brilliant. More than that he's compassionate, and has a way with words that can easily calm me when I need it.

I'm bursting to hear from Maggie, who is currently in Mexico with a skeevy douchenozzle of an ex boyfriend for the wedding of his brother to her friend from college. And just as I'm going to explode, Patrick calms me down.

And I quote, "dude. Guru Patrick figures that at this point it is out of your control. just have a drink, shut her out and think/meditate inwardly until she's back in town."

Dammit, he's right. I'm going to pour myself another Vodka, smoke a cig, and start meditatin' like a motherfucker.

That'll show her.

So... crazy IS in style

Who knew? Remember how I talked about having drinks with MC, the girl I met on New Years Eve that seemed really cool, but with whom I didn't see much (if any) future? And remember how I talked about how we were going to have drinks, and how it was going to be a disaster? And remember how I promised to get you tickets?

Admit one.

Holy shit, she's crazy. No, that's not strong enough. She's beyond crazy. She's overwhelmingly crazy. We met up at the Cherry Cricket, and I'm thinking, if all else fails, at least I'll get a damn good burger out of the deal. I apologize for disappearing (an SDW staple since I started being interested and then suddenly disinterested in women), we drink some, then eat some apps and go back to her place to watch a movie. I'm trying to keep it cool, not tip my hand, not give her any indication that I'm crazy about her, that I really want to date her... telling her all along that it's important that we take things slow, because I get freaked out easily, and just need to get comfortable at each stage of being with someone. She seemed cool, until we put the (shitty) movie on, and suddenly, she's climbing all the fuck over your boy. Just grabbin' and pullin' and strippin' and strippin' me... and 10 minutes later, she starts turning off lights, telling me it's time for bed.

Emergency.

I don't want to sleep with this girl, but I'm drinking and feeling pretty good and... you know, what's another notch in the old belt?

(Let me just pause right here: Ladies, I have mad, MAD respect for you. You women who respect yourself and do the right thing, keep your heads up and your legs closed, I respect and love you. This woman is not in your exclusive club. And MY thing is, I felt like I was being used too... that is a road that goes both ways. If she really wanted to schtuup me, even after the conversation we'd just had... I mean, isn't that on her? Or at least partially on her? At one point do I get to shed the "womanizer/mysogynist" label? Aren't women responsible for their own actions, too?)

We go upstairs to her bedroom. She's taking my clothes off like crazy, giving me all sorts of lines like "after 8:30, pants aren't allowed in the bedroom," and "take your shirt off, or it'll be all wrinkled." Lame stuff that, with the right delivery (read: mine) can actually get you somewhere.

Before I knew it, I'm down to my shorts and layin' on the bed, while she takes her clothes off. She's dancing to the music on her iTunes, but she has no rhythm, and it's decidedly... not... hot... at all... not even a little.

The rest of the night is just something of a blur. She's on top of me, she's dancing on top of me, she hops off of me to change the song or fuck around with her dogs, then she's back on top of me again. All in all, I felt really fucking uncomfortable.

I was not feeling it anymore.

I got up. Started putting on my clothes. And I bailed.

She was disappointed, but as the Conchords taught us, A Kiss is Not a Contract.


Just because you been explorin' my mouth doesn't mean you get to take an expedition further south.

I don't know what she did after I left, because I haven't called her or heard from her since that night. Based on the evening as a whole, I would guess that upon my exit she filled a bathtub with her own feces and rolled around with it.

Bitch is crazy.

Lesson learned: if a girl comes up to ME at a bar, and is suddenly and immediately interested, in ME, something is completely wrong with HER.

Other stuff: Maggie is still in the picture. She and I had a great weekend together in Denver, and she leaves Wednesday for a wedding in Mexico, where her friend from college is marrying the brother of an ex of hers. Yes, he'll be there. Fuck.

The 20 year old is still sniffing around. I had to lie to her about a family emergency to avoid hanging out with her this weekend. I need to end that. Immediately.

Rebecca (formerly Becky) is out of the picture completely. Almost had a meltdown Saturday night when heading to the Highlands in North Denver with Maggie, and we're turning into a parking lot, and... there's Rebecca (formerly Becky), walking right across where I'm trying to pull into this lot, and she looked into the car, and I swear to god she looked right at me... but didn't give anything away. I've tried to IM her once, and got no response. She's probably wicked pissed, and that's fine... it wouldn't work anyway. And I don't have time to be wasting evenings and money with women who are not going to be anything close to working out.

So if you're keeping track at home: Sam and MC - Off. Sam and Rebecca (formerly Becky) - Off. Sam and 20 year old - off. Sam and Maggie - On.

And hopeful.