Pheromones

It’s officially summertime and the smell of pheromones permeate the air like never before. I have men from my past and my future coming at me from all angles, and for a while I was doing a good job of thinking logically and avoiding bad decisions. However, now I think that I have finally worked myself into a confusing situation between two new love interests and I have only myself to blame.

I met the Kid early this winter at Ibiza, but we really didn’t start socializing with one another until a month ago, when a slow night at the salsa club turned into riveting conversation. We have so much in common that it’s a little scary. He even likes the exact same music as I do, which is amazing because no one ever appreciates my choice in music. Anyway, we started hanging out together all the time and I’m officially hooked to him. He always has jokes and seems to have a gift for making me laugh. Plus, he’s one of the nicest people that I’ve ever met. Of course, he says the same about me, that I’m one of the nicest girls that he’s ever met. We even have the cutest disputes about which one of us is the nicest. It’s adorable, but trying to stay on topic, my confusion about him stems from the fact that I absolutely adore him, enjoy the time that we spend together, and miss him like crazy when he’s away. However, what I feel for him is not truly attraction. It’s some strange admiration thing. I find him cute, but not sexy and his height is also a problem for me. He’s an inch or two shorter than me, and he has such a baby face sometimes that he reminds me more of a boy than a man. (I’m not the only one who thinks this either; he even got carded at the movie theater because he really does look under 18).

When I’m with him I feel like I’m going through the motions instead of being inspired by my passion for him. I keep telling him this over and over again, saying that we should only be friends because my feelings for him are not as strong as his for me, but he keeps on insisting that we could make it work. I finally gave into his wishes on Tuesday and was disheartened to find out that I was right the first time; that there is no potential for love here on my part. I still adore him enough that I would be willing to waste my time with him, if it weren’t for another man that I met last Friday.

I still know very little about this mystery man that I met last weekend but my attraction for him was almost instantaneous. It didn’t require anything thought, any contemplation, it was just there. His temperament reminded me a lot of my own, in the way that he rarely smiles and can be as happy, as sad, or as angry as he can be but you would never know it by looking at him because he hides his feelings so thoroughly. However, the few occasions that he does smile are so genuine and so heartfelt that you can’t help but feeling moved. I’m truly intrigued by him and regret not sticking to my conventions with the Kid. Now, I made a once simple situation more complicated than it has to be, potentially hurting feelings that didn’t have to be hurt. It’s especially confusing because I know so little about this mystery guy, that it seems silly to throw the Kid away for someone I hardly know, but on the other hand, I’m not even attracted to the Kid. Isn’t better to leave a relationship that you know is not going to work sooner rather than later?

Anyway, I have all of these ideas rolling in my head, while maintaining a big smile on my face as I try to make the Kid’s birthday today special. I’m making him Lemon Cream Cupcakes, which is a big deal because I really don’t like to bake, but for him I’m always making exceptions. Tonight will be interesting though. Can I wait until tomorrow to reveal the whole sticky situation, or will the truth be revealed this very night potentially ruining the Kid’s birthday celebration? Only time will tell, but one thing is for sure. Once the truth is revealed, it will finally but an end to our dispute about which one of us is the nicest. The Kid wins that race by a mile.

My Spontaneous Side

I was talking to my international friend the other day and he pointed out a very interesting characteristic about myself that I have never realized before. He says that I get obsessed with things very easily and then all of sudden as if over night, I get deeply involved in a new relationship, a new project, or a new adventure as if it was always planned out that way. When I take time to reflect about my behavior, I realize how right he is. I can really take an idea and run with it, as evidenced by the events of the last couple of weeks.

Just last week, for example, one of my co-workers mentioned going to a drive-in movie. I thought that it was such a charming idea that that very same afternoon I did some research, found where the nearest drive-in was, and harassed my current love interest, Text, until he gave in and decided to go with me. It was a 45 minute drive but it was well worth it, because as soon as we got there we could not stop smiling. It was kind of like going back in time and being part of a more pleasant era. It was so refreshing, until we were in the middle of our 45 minute drive home and realized that we both had to be a work early the next morning. Why couldn’t I have just waited for the weekend? I still can not tell you. I guess that I’m trying to follow the “live each day like it’s your last” philosophy, but I can’t decide whether all my compulsions are destructive, as with my compulsive shopping or constructive as with my new dance projects and social activities.

My latest compulsion drew me to Memphis. The Saint has been complaining about our current hangout for weeks now, saying that this place in Memphis is 100% better than Ibiza and that I should go check it out. He didn’t expect me to actually follow through with his suggestion so quickly. I got two of my girlfriends together in record time and we all took the 3 hour road trip down to Memphis just to salsa. We had a ball of course, but I was surprised that the Memphis club, the High Pointe Pinch, was nothing like the Saint described. It definitely wasn’t any better than Ibiza, just a little different in atmosphere and the amount of guys who actually showed up just to dance. Regardless, of the Saint’s complaints I still think that Ibiza is the better of the two, but going the Memphis was definitely a worth while venture that has inspired me and the girls to take on Atlanta next. Who knows were my next compulsion will take me. All I can hope is that it will be somewhere good.