Playing With Fire

I haven't always considered myself a cautious person, this had to become a learnt behavior, and eventually evolved into natural instinct. As a teenager I considered myself a good kid, never into drugs, alcohol, or any of what many would consider "bad behavior." As a teenage girl however, when it came to certain boy situations I definitely had no problem not looking before leaping. I also found myself being somewhat rebellious at times. I sensed this was natural since I did grow up in quite the religious household. Mind you, even though I felt like I grew up with a picket fence surrounding me, I refused to climb over it completely. I never really had a desire to see what was beyond it. I simply flirted with the idea, but never dared to go out of my comfort zone, unaffectedly just treaded right on the borderline. In college my parameters expanded as I found myself more able to make impulsive decisions, especially when there was an abundance of liquor involved. Still, even parameters have their limits, and tempting lines to be crossed, I modestly grazed them. I think that as I've gotten older and a little wiser my thought process has become more valuable to me. I grew to realize that becoming an adult meant thoroughly thinking things through before making any decision.

So why on earth am I all of a sudden playing with matches? Letting each one burn too close to my fingertips, if I'm not careful, I may just get burned. This is all theoretically speaking of course. To my surprise, I find myself hastily making some reckless decisions. Maybe my mind feels nostalgic for my youth as it has me going back in time to my old teenage ways.

The first of my reckless acts is Gavin, a guy I meet at my work as I'm walking out after coaching. Gavin with his dark hair, dark eyes, very tall stature, and Adonis body, showered and finished with the gym. We meet by the reception desk, walk out to the parking lot together, and trouble is marked all over him. I find him intelligent, he's taking the Bar exam soon, he's going to be a criminal defense lawyer. He's young, 22 to be exact and yes once again I'm feeling like Mrs. Robinson. He's also very brash, has no problem letting me know he finds me very attractive. He wants to exchange numbers so we can meet up as soon as possible. I'm reluctant, I know better, but I find his boyish smile so hard to resist. I let go, I give in, and the flirting begins. Oh Trouble we meet again, but this time I'm ready for you, so bring it!

A few days later I receive a text, a blast from the blog past actually! Nathan (from my July blog, "Unexpected Fireworks") decides to make a guest appearance in my life. He calls out of nowhere, it's almost midnight on a Saturday night, and he wants to come over, he needs to be consoled. He explains he had just had the worst date of his life and he needs to end his night on a good note. The good note of course referring to me. I let him tip toe to my room, we whisper, watch a movie, and yes I have to try to resist him the whole night. Nathan keeps pressing to kiss me, and I keep making sure our night stays "Rated G." He leaves unsatisfied, and I wonder, what just happened?

Meanwhile in Texting Land Jared still sends me persistent messages, saying that when he gets back from Costa Rica things are going to change. He tells me we're going to date this time, he'll make an effort, he'll stop disappearing on me. He tries to persist me into sending him sweet messages, tries to coax me into sending him pictures of myself. Jared for now I can resist, probably due to the distance that keeps us apart at the moment. Jared is probably the hardest to call off once he's close to me, meaning actually in my house. My family welcomes his unexpected visits, enjoys him and encourages his company as well. I'm still waiting for Jared's next big move, still anticipating the action that hasn't been taken yet.

If you haven't guessed it, already two weeks have passed by, and no sign of life from Dr. Darren. I have now officially shut or rather have slammed the dating door on him. I need not be with a man who has no desire to be with me, hence my healing process has begun. "Healing" is probably not the right description for my actions, "rejuvenating" preferably the more suitable term. I feel like I'm on some sort of nonsensical Datist spree, a little out of control... But I kinda like it.

Do not my actions speak for themselves? Have I not moved on already from Darren? I want to believe I have, that there's no option of looking back. In reality these boys are just my distractions, my new toys to be played with. Toys are meant to be enjoyed, to be trifled with, fun for a certain period of time. Eventually though, new play-things get worn out, are cast aside, something more substantial is craved. My appetite still longs for substance, yet I must hold off on satisfying it. For now I need to just play, I need the distraction, or else I might just feel empty inside.

"Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature."
~Tom Robbins