I always get these knots inside like I'd expect before walking a not-terribly-tightrope from some ridiculous height without a net when I'd never walked a tightrope before. So when I do make myself do it you can be sure that it's for a woman that I think is pretty darn special.
So when I found out that a local blogger whose site I comment on frequently was single again I had to put myself out there. I'd flirted via her comments section a few times. She knew I was just waiting for her to break up with the wizard1 she was dating.
They broke up.
It sounds like they broke up a little while ago. She had recovery time and she started hitting the dating sites. I just found out a few days ago.
I started trying to write her an e-mail almost immediately. "Trying" being the operative word. My fingers froze. My arms seemed to be suffering a petit mal seizure. Just trembling enough that you couldn't see them but, being my arms, I knew about them. I finally started typing, but it was all text about my nerves instead of anything progressing the purpose of my writing. I wrote a few more comments on her site. I went back to the e-mail and froze again. Were those butterflies in my stomach or was it lunchtime? Both actually.
After about a week of virtual time (45 minutes according to the clock) I finally was able to hit send on something that didn't seem completely retarded. I could be wrong about that. She responded pretty fast. She said no. It seems she wants kids while I don't.
Predictable really. An act of pure optimism to have posed the question in the first place.
I'll probably pick up a six pack on the way home. I know, alcohol and a funk don't actually go well together. I'm just hoping that it'll kill that quivering along my arms, chest, and stomach. It's that or be prepared to cough up the money for a professional massage to work out the inevitable kinks in my back.
1I'll leave you to figure out what I mean by that.