Why I’m Still Single

After a few days of good to great conversation, I’ll eventually realize that what was once just an enjoyable platonic companionship has turned into something more. My reaction is the emotional equivalent of a prairie dog ducking underground at the smallest sign of impending danger.  

Or in pictorial form, this: 

Inside my head - 

In the end I end up being so busy doing the following things:

- Internalizing everything, hoping that if I reason enough, the feelings will go away.

- Being neurotic (usually worrying if I’m being obvious/clingy/desperate/annoying/annoyingly everything above)

- Over-analyzing every single stinking thing he says/does. So much so that I end up confusing myself in which then I go back to the first two. 

That I either give off mixed signals (and thereby create an exponentially confusing cycle of confusion for both parties) or become the ice queen all together. 

Ok, ice queen is a slight exaggeration. Actually, I get really quiet. At which point, the feelings have probably gotten worse (cause you know, I’ve been doing things to make them SOO much better) and I’ve just totally shut down. 

You’d think at my age, I’d react differently. I mean, I KNOW this is unhealthy. I KNOW its counter-productive. I KNOW I’ve become a self-saboteur, my own worst enemy. 

And yet I can’t help it. 

And that, my good chums, is why I’m still single.