Whoever is keeping tabs

...kindly forewarn me next time. Thanks.

She says I’m going to fall in love next year. I wonder, how can she be so sure?

Well, I guess that’s beside the point. Deep down, I know that whoever that next person in my life is…I will fall irrevocably in love with him.

Melodramatic much? Probably.

But I know myself well enough to recognize a pattern in my own behavior by now. There’s no denying I’m nearing the third year of my crush/crushed-recovery cycle. I recognize the root of my current restlessness.

Predictable in the most unpredictable way. Every time I toe the line, testing the water just to see how far I can go. Only to fall a little deeper each time.

Too bad I can’t choose my love life like my contact-lenses prescriptions. They don’t say hindsight is 20/20 for nothing. A couple years back, I purposely started choosing to have less than 20/20 vision because I felt having perfect eyesight artificially only made it get worse each year.

Except being able to see clearly is like being able to think straight. Totally irrelevant, totally mental…and totally out of my control.

Deep down, I’m scared I’m not ready.

As if this were something a person could be "ready" for, check off today's to-do list.

The thought of finding the one? Shit, makes a girl wanna run off to Canada. Which, by the way, is exactly what I’m planning to do anyhow. ;)

Okay, okay. Playful joking seriousness aside, it’s true... I can’t wait for it to happen anyhow. It seems like I’ve always been waiting. So, it’s hard for me to fathom, is there really someone out there who cannot resist me?

You have to understand, I’m not just restless as I begin to re-open my eyes to different possibilities. I can be downright reckless. I say, no more. No more unconsciously seeking out unrequited, one-sided, supposedly “safe” love!

Hey, I figure that if there’s a chance I might get hurt, then I better damn well make sure it’s worth my time.

Secretly, the thought makes me smile in eager anticipation.

...I'm either a hopeless romantic or just flat-out hopelessly naive in romance, still. I may be an easy person to be with, but I can’t possibly be an easy person to love (family and friends don’t count here!). I swear, there must be something intimidating about me to other guys in that arena. Honestly, I’m curious to find out what kind of person would accept such a challenge.

Er well, with the exception of moms.

Jeez, recently I’ve come across some really bold moms eager for me to become part of their family. And I thought this sort of chase-down only happened to rakish, wildly eligible but confirmed bachelors…in those old-school regency romances?!

Uhh, let's not explore the implications of that analogy.

Truly, I thought perhaps the yoga mom over the summer trying to sell her son to me so that I can bear her grandchildren (yeeah, I know...it caused me a minor internal freak-out moment, too) was just a one-time fluke. Cute, but weird.

But this past week, I had dinner with a longtime friend and his aunt, who by the end of the night was not-so-subtly trying to set us up. Ironically, he’s turning 28, which is the age I jokingly claimed is the time guys matured in an unsuccessful attempt to gently decline the yoga mom’s aggressive advances...

Seems like I ought to watch what I joke about now, huh?