Buzzworthy

It's not like I was having a bad time. But I wasn't having entirely too much fun, either. I lived alone for two years and drove across most of this country with no one but my iPod, Wilson I. I can handle silence. Or rather, I have a knack for filling silence through conversations with My Self...

Self, if that bastard ever calls again, you better say *THAT* to him.
Self, try harder to be patient with Mom.
Self, stop reading Us Weekly already.
Self, stop talking to Your Self in the mirror in public bathrooms.

I listened to him talk about his welding, his sculpture, and his "haunted" apartment. (WTF?) I endured the story of how he almost-auditioned for The Bachelor. He did audition, actually. He completed the first steps. Just because he didn't submit a video doesn't mean he didn't audition. (And between you and me, that story was REALLY just the end of all hope.) I tried to broach interesting subjects. But he cited Metallica as the only music he really listens to. I can't really DO much with that. We debated a few philosphies, but it was painful. He didn't ask any questions that struck a chord. And I wasn't doing much better. That awkward silence? I enjoyed it. But he asked (nicely) if I wanted to grab another drink after dinner. I should have just flat out said no. Instead, "I have to train tomorrow morning..." To which he replied, "Just one more drink." I reluctantly agreed. And after that, he STILL didn't even ask me about my marathon. Isn't that just... well, INCONSIDERATE?

Conversations with My Self continued...

Self, I would definitely take you home to - as ACN calls it - play kissy-face.
And Self, I would SO date you.
Self, come to think of it, I would MARRY you.

I have met someone - actually, sometwos and threes - who made my heart race. Around whom I couldn't stop smiling. Our meetings made me talk faster and made him talk faster.We needed to tell everything and there was just not enough time! Because how is it possible we hadn't known each other all these previous years? Oh, we could not get enough of each other. SO fabulous. Awake until all hours, talking, moving,becoming closer. We'd entwine ourselves in each other for hours at at time to make up for the fact that we ever spent a second apart. When they are the only person you can think of calling when everything is right. And even more when nothing is.

This Guy? I saw that he called and let my voicemail pick up. I didn't listen to his message until the next day. I think I'm done with This Guy.

Because I want heart pounding. I want need wrinkle cream for my eyes because I can't stop smiling and laughing when we're together. I want conversations in the corner into which no one can interject. I want to be tired from staying up all night. I want to be perplexed. I want to be amazed. I don't want to be able to catch my breath. I want to call each other at the same time. I want long emails and secrets and forehead kisses. I want passionate fights. I want to spill my beans, and I want to feel that beautiful buzz...

New Orleans called yesterday. I was at work, and I missed his call. But he left a message. And just hearing his voice on my answering machine made me skip down the street. Warm and buzzing, remembering love.