I told you that writing about it would jinx me. When will I ever learn? Probably never. Of course, I don't really believe that I can jinx something by simply talking about it. I'm not that dumb/superstitious.
No, it's that there is something seriously wrong with me. But after all these years, I just can't figure out what it is. I'm not that crazy. And I think I hide my crazy fairly well. I'm not clingy -- in fact, I'm so concerned about appearing clingy/smothery that I make a very concerted effort to be the anti-clingy. I'm the Bounce sheet of dating, if you will. It's always outdoor fresh up in this bitch.
I have awesome platonic relationships with guys and can do the booty call thing without getting the least bit attached. I just can't seem to put the two halves together into a whole. But you know what? I'd rather have the life I have now than be celibate and friendless. Or you know, have only female friends where all we did was sit around and bitch about men and how much it sucks to be single and how so-and-so is getting married and SHE'S YOUNGER THAN US. I'd be a cutter for sure, y'all.
It's for the best, anyway, because Detlef was not a stellar smoocher.