About a month ago, I went to my favorite place on earth.
While I was at the beach, I met a good lookin' country boy. And we hit it off. Spent some time together. Drank some beer. Rocked in a hammock. You know things you do with someone at the beach.
It was perfect. I dare to say too perfect.
I'm a tad bit ashamed at how girly I acted over the whole situation now that some time has passed, which brought some much need perspective.
Every fiber in my being told me I liked him and that I should trust him. But the good ole brain of mine said maybe be careful. Maybe don't trust him or like him too much.
But I was a goner. I liked him instantly. Still do if we're being totally honest.
He was a smooth talker, easy on the eyes, loud, funny, perfect half smile, sculpted shoulders, the whole nine. He'd play with little kids in his family. And he'd showcase his athleticism by diving into the ocean to catch a football. Lord help us all who saw that beautiful sight.
But the level of likeness has gone down a considerable amount. And I'll tell you why. His fault and my fault because it was definitely both of us at fault.
He didn't show up for me.
And I mean show up as in actively pursue.
That's a big deal.
Now granted, he is about 500 miles away from me. But that shouldn't stop anything. Distance does make showing up literally more difficult, but it could still work. (Look at me the eternal optimist. The realist side of me is shaking my head in disgust.)
Here's the other thing. I gave the kid an out while we were at the beach. The whole we-don't-have-to-exchange-phone-numbers-and-pretend-to-really-care out so we could leave it as the most perfect week in the history of beach vacations.
But he didn't take the out.
So that is the first step of showing up. Not to mention that he knocked on all the condo doors one night to find me BEFORE we officially met. Another show up step.
Realistically, I should have known better. I slap my wrists now thinking back to how it all happened. And I give him mad props. Kentucky boy's got game like this Arkansas girl's never seen before. I mean really. Arkansas dudes need to step it up.
To be honest, I don't really blame him. It's just what happens when there's sun and beer and bare shoulders on the beach. Man, did he have great shoulders.
I'll forever think fondly of him. Because it was too good of a time not to.
But I'll be smarter next time. I won't have expectations. They tend to get me in trouble. And by that I mean I get too girly, which is annoying. Makes me cringe to think about it.
I know why guys have a tendency to phase out "those girls." We've all been one of them. Starts out fine. Then, we just start the over-analyzing and too much emotions talk, and it's like BOOM! We become the girls we hate.
When you see other girls doing it, it's like ha ha she's ten shades of crazy. Then you catch yourself doing it, and it's like HOLY SHIT, I'M ONE OF THOSE. You try to play it cool, but the damage is done.
So what happens next?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Call it a learning experience. Don't judge yourself. Promise to never do it again. Grab a bottle of tequila to mourn the fact that you turned into one of "those girls" and a bottle of champagne to toast yourself to being a better person than you were before.
Now somebody go get the limes and salt....
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