Becoming too big to manage

My thoughts and feelings are completely out of control.

My sleep schedule, along with my stomach, is in tatters.

If I'm not thinking about her, I'm not thinking.

On the one hand, she thanks me for pulling her near when she's pushing me away. I'm her shoulder to cry on when she needs to vent about work, or her mom, or her family. I'm her "rock," as she puts it.

On the other, I barely talked to her yesterday. Our only correspondence was through one instant message conversation, which lasted all of five minutes. When I asked her to call me last night, she said she didn't know if she could because she was going out with the girls. True to form, I got no call on the way out to meet the girls, and when I woke up with nightmares at 4am, and foolishly checked my phone, found that I'd gotten no call on her way home from being with the girls.

And the coup de gras: Friday night, the night we'd been planning to have together for Valentine's Day dinner? Canceled, due to a meeting at work. At 7pm. On a Friday night.

Ahem. Excuse me?

I don't know what's more insulting. The idea that I should just be okay with that, or the idea that I shouldn't be suspicious. I mean, would ANYONE not be suspicious?

All in all, it hurts me. It hurts me because I don't know what to believe anymore. I think there's someone else, someone who is taking up her time, whispering sweet nothings (those are MY sweet nothings, you douchenozzle!), and stealing my girl away from me.

And yet, she can tell me she loves me without issue... But the words aren't the thing, right? The feeling is the thing, right? And you can't fake it, right? And if she had any feeling at all for me, she wouldn't lie to me... Right?

I'm just feeling very alone, very betrayed, and very hurt. And to me, to call her on it and come away with nothing - to have her prove her meeting, her evening with the girls, et al - would be a tragic ending right out of Shakespeare.

Say nothing, and live a lie.

Say something, and end with nothing.

Say nothing, and end with nothing anyway.

Of the three, I'd choose the last. I know I'm a fool for doing so. Someone straighten me out. Please, please straighten me out.

Love just leaves you bruised

Before you ask, I don't know what Jim and Pam from The Office have to do with this song. But the song properly wraps up how running into Lauren changed my weekend.

Love just leaves you bruised. If you want to know, you find something to lose.

I did not see that coming...

Beer fest. A time for guys to be guys and girls to serve us beer. Met up with Patrick, Thom, The Deuce (Thom's brother), and assorted others, and proceeded to the Colorado Convention Center to partake in some one-ounce-at-a-time fun.

And fun, it was. Tons of beer from all over the US, some great samples, some bad samples, and surprisingly nothing from Missoula, home of three great breweries. At learning this, my excitement was suddenly tempered, if only because the familiar is comforting, especially in the face of 400 brewers making everything from very good barleywine to an absolutely atrocious pomegranate beer. Sometimes, you just want a taste of Cold Smoke from Kettle House, or Moose Drool from Big Sky, or Dancing Trout from Bayern; they bring you back to center, let you find your happy place again for a moment, before setting out to conquer the rest of the booths.

Alas, none of these brewers showed up.

I should have known this to be a bad sign.

Just when I was getting past the Big Sky slight, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the best friend of a wonderful ex of mine. Lauren's friend, Karen, spotted me, and my thoughts immediately went to panic mode.

Karen: "HI!"

Sam: (Oh, FUCK.)"Um. Hey. Oh, hi Lauren."

Lauren: "Hi."

We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and I have to admit, it was a lot less awkward than I'd ever expected it to be. Consider for a moment that the last time we saw each other was nearly a year ago. To think how long a time ago that was, realize that the Rockies weren't even within spitting distance of the playoffs, the Broncos were, and Allen Iverson wasn't a Nugget yet.

And consider that there was precisely zero closure between the two of us. At least, not for me. I was told in an email that she was no longer interested, and via phone call that she was seeing a new guy, the dreaded Gil.

Despite all of this, seeing Lauren was good. And she looks great. Looks very happy. Which made me happy, and sad, at the same time.

After a few minutes, they walked away, and I figured we wouldn't run into each other again in a giant room full of 10,000 people. Naturally, I was wrong.

But it wasn't "running into them" I should have been worried about. I should have been more concerned with busy-body Karen having the great idea of "Let's introduce Sam to Gil!" Oh, can we please?!

Sure enough, up runs Karen.

"So, you wanna meet Gil?"

"No, not really."

"Well, he and Lauren are on their way over here right now."

And as I looked over her shoulder, sure enough, there was Lauren, arm in arm with my new nemesis. The dreaded Gil.

And as we shook hands, and I desperately searched for a reason that Lauren wouldn't be happy with him, I was quite upset to know that there was nothing. She's found her man.

And I'm happy for her. And I'm happy for him, because she's so fucking awesome, and if he's smart, he won't make the same idiotic mistakes I made, and disappoint her, and hurt her.

Because if he does, I'll break his kneecaps.

What bothers me most about this whole scenario? The fact that Gil is actually a pretty cool guy. If the circumstances were different, I would probably hang out with this kid.

Circumstances being what they are, I will break his kneecaps if he hurts Lauren.

That, my friends, is life. More specifically, my life.

The Dreaded Dry Spell

It has happened.

I'm not sure when, and I'm not sure how. But in some way, between ending things with Jenny and where we are now - wherever that is - I have lost track of what it was that made me a desirable person.

Is it my attitude? Does my smile now give away some deeper insight into my life, my soul? Is it my unwillingness to change, to settle?

I don't know where I am anymore. I've been on Match for a few months now, and despite getting a few nibbles here and there, it has been a rousing disaster. If Shakespeare was writing it, this would be a great tragedy.

What's worse, the headline of this particular blog ("The Dreaded Dry Spell"... pay attention, slackers) is already out of date. It's more of a dry desert at this point, which is worse. Shit, I'd kill for a dry "spell."

28. Washed up. To paraphrase Rob Gordon in High Fidelity, "We were frightened of being left alone for the rest of our lives. Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 28, and we were of that disposition."

How completely unreasonable. How completely, emotionally lewd. How fucking true.

I'm at a point now where I'm meeting random (albeit, pretty) women at parties, and getting their numbers a few days later, only to call and receive no call back. I'm calling old flings and flames and trying to get together for a drink, a beer, a cup of coffee. And, if I'm lucky, a clue.

A clue about what I keep doing wrong. I know it's me, and I know it's the same thing every time. I know I'm lost and I just keep walking through this forest of bullshit, trying to find answers that may or may not even be real. I'm searching for some reason to stop loathing myself, my issues, my reasons, my justifications.

I'm not finding much.

The problem is, as mentioned, the lack of a call-back. But why should they call me back? I'm a distant memory; the guy who wasn't quite good/grown-up/smart/rich/funny/interesting enough to want to tie themselves to for a significant amount of time. Instead, they found the good/grown-up/smart/rich/funny/interesting guy shortly after I exited stage left, and they haven't looked back.

Me? I'm allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll about the look-back.

Kim is, as she has always been, in Missoula. I'm in Denver. That's a no-go. I'm at the mercy of fate, hoping that our paths cross again. But, like that lyric from The Format:

we are parallel lines
we’re running in circles
we're never meant to cross

And that's how it feels. I'm on one line, and the rest of the world are on another, and we're never meant to cross.

And I miss Kim.

Miss? Maybe not. Do I know her well enough to miss her? Were my feelings for her just part and parcel with having a great time on vacation, her smiles and jokes and soft skin just plunging me farther into a dream world where the two of us find ourselves together? Or are they real?

(I think that's the problem, by the way. I never know when I'm happy. I figure it out long after the person has gone, and as the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want" plays in my head, I'm violently angry at myself for becoming a part of the cliche. Fuck me, and fuck my stupid brain and emotions. What the fuck is wrong with me?)

So, I'm going to experiment with some self-therapy. Over the next several days, I'm going to discuss several of the great loves of my life in this space in the hopes of figuring out why things ended. The five of you who read this blog can help me figure out an answer to that age-old question:

What The Fuck Is Wrong With Me?

Pictures, as promised

That's us. From left: Me, Kim, Laura, Thom. Naturally, I look like a chode.

This is the only photo I ended up getting with Kim in it, which is absurd considering from the moment I arrived in Missoula, I wanted to hang out with her. And I did. I just forgot to take pictures, I guess. I suck.

Got an email from Thom today. He is advising me on the Kim '07 project, which is now the official project name (in case someone asks). He said to push it back to Kim '08, essentially, and that I should move slow on this one.

So, people, I ask you: how the fuck do you move slow without A) alienating her, or B) feeling like you're not moving towards your goal? I've never been good at games, and I hate games, and this... feels like a game. Like if I don't call, she's going to think I'm playing games, and if I do, she's going to think I'm desperate.

I fucking hate this.

Wednesday - Quickly

Okay, I promised photos and they're still coming. No need to worry there. However, the last two nights have been upended by baseball (Rockies on Monday) and laziness (me, last night), so you'll have to forgive the tardiness.

Just a quick update: I'm not going to Missoula. For one thing, a ticket up there is nearing $600, and that's pretty spendy for a dude that just spent about that much total on his last trip. I can't afford to drive it again, and adding to the complications, The Girl (Kim) is working all that weekend at the hospital (she's a nurse). She works nights, which would lead to me doing absolutely nothing while she worked, and it just doesn't sound like all that grand of a time.

I'll get back up there, and perhaps more importantly, she might be coming here.

Pictures and full update TONIGHT.

The Grand Opening

Tuesday. Damn.

Went to a grand opening of a new Mexican restaurant, which is located in Cherry Creek North, called Tambien. It was muy bueno. Great margaritas, good food, fun, young atmosphere. And it was free. So all told, it really should have been awesome.

It was less than that. Damn.

I love the folks I work with. We go out, we have drinks, we laugh and joke a lot. So don't get it twisted.

I don't love hanging out with work folks that are dating each other. It's odd. And being the only single person in our office, if not our company, lends itself to some pretty awful situations.

I have this thing, where I feel like I'm being watched and judged all the time. Bizarre? No question. But true, nonetheless. So imagine my discomfort as Mike, Tori and I were seated, and I was once again the third wheel.

A little background here: I'm actually quite adept at being the third wheel. Jonathan, my best friend, recently got married, and I found myself on a lot of dates with him and his now-wife, Jessica. I didn't mind; I liked both of them very much, have known both for upwards of 10 years, so it was really like hanging out with two friends.

Tonight? Well, tonight was different. Damn.

Mike and Tori are dating, and that's... you know, whatever that is. Personally, I don't date people at work, but I've recently found out that I might be in the minority there, so whatever; let them do what they want.

However, hanging out with Mike and Tori, while fun, wasn't like hanging out with Jon and Jess. I felt the need and desire to entertain them, even though we were just out at dinner and drinks. What the hell is my problem??? I wasn't on stage, wasn't expected to perform, and yet there I was, doing my retarded Chris Matthews impression and yelling in a crowded restaurant. Just what the hell is the matter with me?

Which leads me to the following list of "Don'ts" for SDW.

1. Do not ask me, "How's your love life doin'?" unless you are A) female, and B) have immediate plans to change said love life from "stagnant" to "active." This is not up for debate.
2. Do not ask me to dinner if you're going with your significant other (and no one else). Just remember, it's hard enough being single without having all your friends remind you with actions at dinner just how single you are. I won't forget. I swear, I won't forget.
3. Don't ask me questions like, "Hey, which girl are you dating these days? You've got quite the roster." Even if I told you that I had quite the roster, it's likely that none of it is true. Just because I talk to a lot of girls does not mean any of them are interested in dating me. At all. Trust me, I've done the research.
4. If you just met a "really cute" girl and you think that we'd "be perfect for each other," save it. No, really. Introducing us is one thing, but if there is pressure going in, I won't be able to close the deal, so really all you've done is wasted your night, her night and my night. Introducing us is fine, but do not tell me what your intentions are. If I'm interested, I'll be sure to let you know.

The only reason I lay this stuff out for you is because I've experienced a rash of this crap lately, and it's gotta stop. Yes, I'm single. Yes, I'd like to date. No, I don't particularly want to date Jenny. No, I'm not entirely sure why. Yes, I wish things were different. No, I haven't met anyone new and interesting. Seriously. Lay. Off.

That said, it's not all bad. Being single, I mean. At least I can come home, take my pants off, and write a blog in the comfort of my own apartment, without worrying about offending anyone.

Fuck it. Maybe I should just stay single. As if it's up to me.