the fishbowl.

he deduced that i was a loner after asking me if i wanted a dog. just like that. i was labeled… a loner. my jaw dropped and i squealed my rebutal. i would gladly take a fish or a frog or an iguana… but he stood firm. i had said i didn’t want a pet that needed to be 1. walked 2. pet 3. or that had a need to lick or rub up on me. he looked at me intently and said, “you can’t handle commitment.”

again, my jaw dropped. mouth just gaping open and shut, like a fish gasping for air. what does commitment have to do with me not wanting a dog!? apparently he felt he knew me.

he asked, “have you ever been in love?” and i looked at the ground, took a deep breath and said i wasn’t sure. “you’d know if you had been, you’re 28 and you’ve never been in love!?”

the analyzation had just begun…

are you closed off? are you hard to get to? it seems like you don’t let others in? what are you scared of? do you have a lot of close friends? who generally breaks things off? do you run after someone starts to get close or show interest? how long was your longest relationship? with every inquiry of his eyes i felt more and more unsure. uncomfortable. confused. but i kept answering the onslaught of questions… many of them left me mute.

was i closed off? do i run? do i keep them at a distance? am i scared? i thought. i formulated and then i told him that after 10 years of living on my own i was used to doing things… alone. that didn’t make me a loner. i didn’t seek out isolation… but i also just never was that girl that needed a guy.

he was right about one thing. when i find a guy that makes me ache… then the fear definitely sets in.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s