Crashing and Burning
How should I best inagurate this foray into brand-new blogging? Well, I thought I’d talk a little bit about what happens when I find my behavior surprising myself. Funny how having the screws put to you reveals your true character, and not the character you hoped you’d possess.
Enter my current situation. There is a guy at my soon-to-be-former workplace that I’ve flirted with from my arrival. Harmless you could call it, at first, until yesterday when he asked me out. You see, ever since I told him I was leaving, he’s been laying on thicker than normal. “Well, what’s wrong with that?” I can hear you asking. To which I will answer with another question — why would you get onto a plane that you knew was rife with mechanical failures and is garunteed to fall apart mid-air? Crashing and burning is inevitable. I know it is not worth it, yet I find myself, instead of leaving well-enough alone, wanting to push things as far as they can go without anything ever “happening.”
So this guy thinks I’m cute, he wants to take me to dinner and pick my brain, wants to take me home and pick other things. And why do I respond? ‘Cause it’s a stroke to the feminine ego (and you thought maybe that didn’t exist?). But what of him? Have I found in him anything that is worth a response? Not necessarily, yet as I was at the grocery store last night, I realized I was walking with a lighter step in my foot, streams of confidence overflowing — ’cause someone finds me attractive right now? Oh. I start to feel a little crushing sensation, something’s wrong.
I don’t want those feelings to come solely through the attention of a man. I don’t want to jump at the chance just because some bloke seems to take a shine to me. What was that about throwing pearls to swine? I start binging on the attention as if it’s the only kind that’s going to come my way, taking advantage of the opportunity while it presents itself, as if it’ll never happen again.
Hrm, this does not speak so loudly of placing my desires for a romantic relationship in God’s hands, does it? I find myself surprised but still reminding myself that he does in fact, care about that kind of stuff, too. Instead my behavior says “get out of the way, I need to get my fill however I can.”
So, I’m at a bit of a crossroads right now. Boy, the flight crew of that plane sure look friendly (and cute), but in this case with discretion definitely being the better part of valor, it seems like the wiser choice to let this plane leave and continue to wait at what seems like a rather remote airport, for a plane that might withstand the flight.