Dating defeat

Boys should come with instruction manuals.

I'd love to have back all the minutes, months and years that I've spent dissecting phone calls, e-mails and notes passed in history class. When he says this, does he mean that? When he told me he'd call me, did he really mean it, or was he just being polite? Does he like me?

If only we could go back to those "check yes or no" boxes.

Tonight, I had an epiphany about men. They're not really that complicated. Unlike women, they very often do say what they mean. And while they may throw out a few polite phrases like "We should do this again sometime," or "It's not you, it's me," most of the time they're easier to read than we care to admit.

Turns out that men are either interested or they're not, but seldom are they confused about it. And when they are interested, they usually find a way to communicate that. When they're not interested, we spend days obsessing over whether they are and what they mean and when will they finally make their move when the reality is, they just don't want to date us. Why is that so hard to understand? It doesn't make us less beautiful, less intelligent, or less desirable. It does make them idiots, but then again, that's not a news flash either.

Guess you can lead a man to a restaurant, but you can't make him date.

Just a year ago, I was blogging obsessively about Mr. Friend of Friend. I spent hours trying to figure out whether he was interested when he never, ever was. At least not in me. And you know what? Life went on, and I was better off. And I remember all the very many signs that I should have seen but didn't want to.

Turns out that while love is blind, so is fleeting interest. So tonight, I vow to acknowledge dating defeat. Let's just be friends. It's not you, it's me. I just got out of a relationship. I'll call you.

No, he won't. But in the big scheme of things, why am I losing sleep over this?