2006-08-09 - 10:29 p.m.
The Ones That Got Away
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I haven't been going out very often, but it seems that everytime I do I run into one-that-got-away, one of the boys in Victoria who I've made out with, slept with, or otherwise lusted over.
And - paradoxically with the upmost regard for the boys who I've, uh... engaged in activities with - I have to say, THANK GOD I'M DONE NOW.
And, by that, what I mean to say is, according to my many-forked subterranean air duct rendition of the future, I had to sleep with all the boys I've slept with to have the many-forked subterranean air duct I do now. And I really like the air duct I have now.* And, silly versions of the future aside, there really are obvious trends among what led me from one boy to another.
Boredom is a prime example.
Lately when I go out, the ones-that-truly-got-away (the ones that I thought I wanted to make out with, but never did) seem drawn to me like a moth to flame. Probably this has a lot to do with the fact that I look happy. Sometimes drunk and happy. And regardless of what reasons apply, I invariably find that my reaction to one-that-truly-got-away is, wow, I must have really been bored.
And what I mean by that is, didn't I have anything better to do? I mean, I'm sure the ones-that-truly-got-away are cool guys, but I really don't want to be asked for any proof of it, you know?
And for that matter, how many more people should I have let know me so well? How many more cowards without virtue, trying harder to sleep with better people than be better people, do I need to know?
Probably not many. Hopefully, none.
I feel far too old to chase after these ones-that-get-away. I'm too old to have nothing better to do, and too old to think it might make me feel less lonely.
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*And to Geoff, who recently thanked me for getting one-that-gets-away away from Kate, you're welcome pal! Many-forked subterranean air ducts collide and represent!
