Take this pair of shoes I had. The first time I saw them in a store I did a double take and stood staring at them in all their deftly lighted and displayed splendor. I walked away distraught because at the time I couldn't take them home. When I returned two weeks later, I left the mall with those shoes. Now they weren't the type of shoes you could wear everyday, and I didn't have a single thing to wear with them. But they were pretty, and in the heat of the moment, impulse took control, and I had to have the shoes in my possession. When I put them on, my feet ached terribly, and they ultimately weren't worth the pain they brought. Now they sit in my closet and watch as day after day I chose more comfortable, sensible shoes, or even more wrong shoes, with a better fit.
Really? This totally isn't about shoes. Its about guys. I am the girl that is utterly fascinated by someone one day, and completely uninterested the next. But again, just like the shoes, when I see something I like, I must have it. Sometimes its the looks, although the shallow approach isn't a good one, a fact I learned early on in my life. Other times its odd quirks they have, the shoes they wear, the things they feel passionate about, and sometimes its just because. So my interest is piqued, and just like in the store I am enthralled by him, but can't have him right away, because yes, it is the thrill of the chase. So I walk on by, but internally claim it as mine. At this point it may become a bit animalistic because sometimes I feel like a beast stalking its prey. A beast because I don't think far enough to worry about the probability of losing interest after its mine, and prey because they are unsuspecting and undeserving.
Once I have it in my possession, I try it on for size, and see how it fits with my atmosphere. It might be a perfect fit at first, but not made to last, so falls apart at the first sign of trouble. It may be outwardly beautiful, but of virtually no use otherwise. It may have been adorable on display, and no where else. If any of these is the case then I very quickly lose interest, and place them in the closet to collect dust. Every once in awhile though, the rarity, quality and good conversation get me stuck. I start to think about wearing the shoes with everything and forgetting about all of my other shoes. I start to wonder how the shoes feel about me. Are they happy to be mine? Is there something I lack? Do they like her feet better?
The only way I see to win in this situation is to put those shoes away as well. Oddly enough, those shoes are always the ones that I should've left in the store, hidden between the more frumpy and common of shoes. They are the ones that get me into trouble. The ones who either don't know what's best for me, or know and don't care. The sexy ones with indifferent attitudes, slick words, and egos to battle mine. These are the ones that get to me every time. They know what to say, how to say it, what to do, and how far to go. The more I think of it, these aren't the ones I choose, these are the ones that choose me. My mom always told me not to let them choose me, but how do you tell that to someone who would just rather be picked sometimes. Being the aggressor gets stale. And trouble starts. For me anyway. But I'm not one to put up with the headaches, I'd rather be alone and figure out what to do with myself sans the person in question.
And thats how I cope. Getting close, but not too close. Closing the gap, but creating an escape route in the process. Survival tactics of an unexperienced hunter.
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