too much brown

now that I feel nothing except for a headache, I’ve decided that now might be an opportune moment to write. now that I’m numb and i’ve run out of time, I thought this moment is probably more opportune than any other moment that came before it.

i’ve been trying to distance myself from the heartache of another okcupid date. not even heartache. i’m not convinced my heart was all that invested in this person. I had not even considered whether or not that was true.

the hurt comes from just trying to be liked, regardless of who happens to be doing the liking. It could be Hitler or Stalin or Mussolini or Eva Braun or Tiffany Trump or Dick Cheney or Liz Cheney or… . i can barely even recall what I thought about you. you seemed nice. and authentic and curious. that is all I could have hoped for. But now, it’s looking like my fears might be realized. i don’t know if I’ll ever hear from you again.

And I’m trying to decode what could have possibly gone wrong.

Was it the fact that I am 10 pounds heavier than in my photos?

was it because I was not as fast and witty and engaging in-person as I am in text? Although I warned you, this would probably happen. the in-person me might take some time to catch up with the SMS version.

Was it my shirt? Maybe I was wearing too much brown.

Or sometimes people read things in my facial expressions that are completely divorced from however I am feeling at the moment. Maybe I looked too anguished or too pre-occupied, or too worried, or maybe my face is just responding to the right things at the right moment. But whatever it does, should not define who I am.

But tell that to this okcupid person. If you can find her. I have the feeling she’s vacated the premises.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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