exposed cerebral cortex of a proletariat bike slut

he was so intuitive when he asked me what was wrong last night.

we had broken into my old house, and climbed through the window onto the roof to look at the bay.  what should have been a wonderful evening with a guy that is so…exactly what I need right now, so sweet in the last few weeks…turned into me swiftly brushing off what was turning into an auspicous relationship…

and why do I continue to do this? I snowball and make up ridiculous reasons why I have to end things, when it is something that is really healthy and totally normal…what normal people do. fucking date. not freak out after (less than a month) this time, and end it. just like that.

he doesn’t like curb your enthusiasm.

I have no idea why this is a pre-req for me, but unfortunately… it is.  No matter that he is a smart, charming guy with a degree in history who bikes everywhere, no matter that he has two passports, no matter that he wanted to cook me dinner every night, no matter that when I hit him in the face the first time we were together he loved it…….

he didn’t share my taste in larry david.

that’s what I was thinking about when he would tell me how he wanted to be with me and I balked.

really?

and it’s always like that. always some small, insignificant, weird reason.

at least this has provided a good distraction from trying to process exactly what the fuck happened in new york, and how I’m [not] dealing with it.

thank god school is starting soon. I need some syllabi (ii?) to organize my life and force me to keep…somewhat…focused.

or at least to meet more men who I will really enjoy for three or four weeks, and then refuse to see again because they don’t enjoy LD or happen to prefer nickelback over other music.

I digress.