Flight Risk

So there's this guy . . . oh, don't get all excited. Well, okay, you can get a little excited because he's pretty great. So far. Which is not saying much because they're pretty much all great in the beginning, right? Anyway, so far, he's pretty great. Despite the fact that we have very little in common except a strange sense of humor (seriously, on one of our dates, we watched Monty Python & The Holy Grail in Japanese with subtitles and then immediately watched it again with Shakespearean subtitles; it was awesome), we can't seem to shut up. He talks almost as much as I do and sends me these long rambling emails. He's cute and sweet and funny and has a good job and is a wonderful cook, and as far as I can tell, really likes me. For instance, yesterday, even though I looked (and smelled) something like a river rat, he was still so happy that I stopped by to meet his friends and eat BBQ with them on my way home from another weekend of ridiculously little sleep. He likes my glasses and my maniac of a dog. And he's a friend of a friend, so I think it's safe to say there aren't any kidneys in his freezer (my new spin on "skeletons in the closet"; based on a slightly scary ex-friend who stole all my jewelry and belongs in an institution for people who think they have 4 kidneys).

So why the title "Flight Risk"? Because I'm a self-destructive freak of nature. My best friend's mom was visiting with me this weekend, casually chatting along when I heard the words "new boyfriend". I literally heard the screeching of brakes in my head, hands flew into the air, "WHOA! WHOA! He is not my boyfriend!" This, of course, sparked a nice lecture from my best friend about my worst habit (see previous blog). I have always enjoyed dating, but I think I've just gotten too used to the idea that it's probably not going to work out, so when things start to seem like they just might, it freaks me out a little. I start saying things like, "I don't even know if I want a boyfriend" even though my friends who have listened to me whine about being single for the past 18 months would beg to differ. Then I launch into my diatribe about not being able to trust people and how badly I was hurt by previous relationships, etc . . . The conversation went something like this from there:
Ann (best friend) - Do you like this guy?
Me - Yes!
Ann - Do you want to keep dating him?
Me - Yes!
Ann - Then quit over-analyzing. If you keep being such a freak, he won't want to go out with you anymore anyway. So shut up.

We're all about tough love. So I'm taking her advice and just enjoying myself. And I really am enjoying myself. :)