Although Mr. Smooth never responded to Saturday morning’s apology texts (as expected), I sent him another one last night. I reminded him that he told me he’d cook me some curry chicken (this was in February), and as he never did so, I’ll expect it later this year for my birthday. I was just being silly. Stuff like that tends to happen when I’m extremely bored. True to form, he didn’t answer.

I told him today that I see he’s still being mean, but that’s okay because I’ll be nice to him regardless.

Same ol’ Mr. Smooth – the coldest bastard ever.

Clearly, I’m not completely over him. I recognize that in the fact that I had the sudden urge to text him after he left the bar Friday night. And from that I realize I was subconsciously waiting/hoping for him to speak to me first while we were in each others’ presence. And when he left and thus made it clear that he could see me (in all my hotness) and not feel compelled to talk to me, that struck a nerve.

It’s so easy to feel like you’re over someone when you can just erase his number from your phone and pretend he never existed. The first real moment of truth is the first time you lay eyes on that person after all has been said and done.

I will say that, in terms of active feelings, I really am over him. Active feelings concern the day-to-day, involuntary, self-initiated manifestations of being into someone: thinking about him all the time, yearning to talk to him/see him/spend time with him/fuck his brains out. The overall essence of wanting someone that’s always in the forefront of your consciousness.  This certainly is no longer the case with Mr. Smooth.

But obviously I still have some dormant feelings for him. Dormant feelings are the residual traces of emotion for a person that lie hiding deep down inside you and make you think you’re in the clear because you can’t always feel them. But come one chance encounter with that person, or even one strong reminder, there comes that faint pang of memory and desire.

Dormant feelings are further along in the moving on process than active feelings, but they’re still a bitch if you’re dealing with a person that you’re probably going to see or hear of on occasion, such as Mr. Smooth.

I only consider myself truly over a guy if I can see him and speak and keep it moving like I would with any other acquaintance. It doesn’t count if I’m purposely not speaking to him for whatever reason, because that only means that I’m still harboring some ill emotions toward him and I don’t think you can truly be over someone if you’re still mad about whatever happened. The point is to wipe the slate clean. Cherish the good memories, forget about the bad ones, and keep it moving.

I’ll get there with Mr. Smooth eventually. I’m resilient. No matter how much they’ve hurt me, I’ve always bounced back. What else is there to do?

But for right now, he’s my Achilles’ heel. There’s always that one person that you’re weak for, whether you’re involved or not or even on good terms or not. It seems Mr. Smooth is that guy. I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for him and as pathetic as this is, if he wanted to kiss and make up, I’d consider it. I’m still attracted to him, unfortunately.

It’d help if there were someone worthy enough to serve as a distraction, but I haven’t come across anyone who piques my interest lately. I’m particular.

There are dozens of men that I know I could have at my door right now with a mere snap of my fingers. Quite a few of them might even genuinely like me and would want to actually date me.

The problem is, I don’t want any of them. I never want the ones that I don’t have to chase. I always want the aloof, elusive ones that really don’t give a shit about me. I always want the unattainable ones. The emotionally unavailable ones. The taken ones. I’m starting to think that in a subconsciously masochistic way, I’m purposely going for people that I know are going to hurt me eventually. Maybe that’s the appeal. Maybe I like the risk. I dunno.

Regardless of how many times I get hurt though, I try not to let bad experiences turn me into a bitter gal. I love men. I work with mostly men and thus my job has allowed me the opportunity to befriend a lot of them on a platonic level and to gain more insight into their psyches. I’m aware of their shortcomings and I try to work around them. On the same token, I’m also aware of my own shortcomings and I realize the things I’ve done, and continue to do, that cause my romances to crash and burn. I try to recognize my own personality flaws and to correct them. Off the bat I know I’m impatient, slightly bratty, and maybe a tad bit demanding. I want what I want when I want it. Those traits aren’t too popular with the menfolk. I’m trying though…

Anyway, on a random note, I must say that THIS sounds like it hurts: A Spanish matador gets gored through the throat. Ouch!

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