Serial Dating

It's a game we like to play in this town. We like to date and date, in order to not become attached to anyone. This sport, keeps us from ever falling in love. Protecting our fragile little hearts from feeling any fraction of pain. Also, this keeps our egos in tact. We continue to be the people that we always thought and knew we were!

The question is, if we keep ourselves from falling, what happens when we meet our one? That is, if "the one" exists.

Well I have met mine. If there's truly a person for everyone then I know mine. He's fabulous. He makes my heart flutter, my palms sweat, I get so nervous I can barely put an entire sentence together. So what next? For me, RUN. Run as fast and as far as you can. Go quickly. Be mean, make him hate you. Oh yea, and date as many jerkoffs as you can (and make sure that he finds out about it) so that you can push him further and further away. Then, of course, send the occasional drunk text message or when you're really drunk and away with an incredible power couple, you even call a time or ten.

Ok, if you haven't already noticed, I am a bit OCD. Almost to a point where I should actually seek help. And after learning that men really are from Mars and women really are from Venus, and nothing we do will ever make sense to the opposite sex. I realized, perhaps, I am wacky when it comes to dating and nothing will ever be easy in that department for me. But let's look at the facts.

Everyone in LA does it, this serial dating thing. Well at least, that's what I think in my mind. And no one really wants to commit. I mean, why would you want to commit when there are so many options in a single city. So many hotties that turn their heads and stare when you walk by.

Ok, perhaps, it's time to sit down and realize the truth about serial dating. According to everyone else in the world, most notably Jason, mine and Bella's one time encounter in Big Bear, being single sucks. I mean seriously, does it really? Is it so bad being able to do whatever you want whenever you want and not have to call someone and tell them what you are doing.

Is it really so bad when you meet someone who makes you melt when you hear his soft sexy voice in the southern accent that you so adore (but only on this man). "Hi B," he says to me. My heart crumbles into my tummy. My palms get sweaty. I get a little teary eyed (OMG, don't tell ANYONE that I can actually get teary eyed). This man makes me a little crazy, in a good way. But why do I persistantly run. I've ran so far and for so long, I'm pretty sure, he may be gone forever.

If he's one in a million, there's bound to be many more right?