Yeah, in a metaphorical sense I’m a little bit like Charlie Brown. Although my therapist would probably take umbrage with the fact that I choose to identify with the “loveable loser.”
But what about that time at Avalon with Kitty*. Y’know? When we decided to go to see Saint Etienne’s last American tour and she disappeared into the Hollywood night with her friends that she rendez-vous’d with during our “date?”
Or the time Maggie* broke down and got mad at me because I told her “I Love You, unconditionally.” And then when her ex refused to leave the periphery things got too much and we “had” to split?
Or in very recent history, the gal who invited me on what would prove to start out as my best date ever and end as the worst? Who is now very very engaged?
Why am I harping on this now? Because something his me the other day: I don’t want to be anyone’s anything right now. I’m just not willing to roll the dice and pray for a natural 20. But in my silly little way, I guess I’ll always have that little red haired girl lirking around the edges of my mind.
*names changed blahblahblah