What I Know Despite Myself

I am not, I repeat, NOT joining eHarmony. Nor may you expect to see me on Match.com
Those websites are for desperate people looking desperately for someone to fill a desperate little void in their desperately hopeful little lives. And I refuse to be desperate. Whiney and totally obnoxious, maybe. But I intend to have a bit more spunk, a bit more kick, a bit more spice to my attitude, desperate or otherwise. Therefore I am not desperate.
And these are the things I know despite myself:

I know you're out there somewhere. You don't know who I am and I don't know who you are either. But despite myself, despite all the sick, gutwrenching drama of the last couple of months, and all the years leading up to the last couple of months, and all the years that will succeed the last couple of months, I KNOW for a fact that you are out there.

Because I'm sure we haven't met yet.
(Don't get cocky, Michael Buble, I would never use your song title in my far-superior-to-you blog)

Even though we are totally and completely compatible, we haven't met yet. Perhaps we were staring at the same Latin Pop section at Walmart, looking for the same Carlos Baute cd that always freakin flies off the shelves. Or maybe we were both at Melrose and your order was the one that made them forget to make my extra cheesy quesadilla. Or you could have been the one who stole the last purple Norcom comp book at the Office Max so that I had to drive to flippin Cool Springs to look for another one. Or maybe you don't even live here. Maybe I need to move, because you live in Atlanta or New York City or... Spain (Sergio Ramos) I don't know.

All I know right now is that I have to chill. Because when you come along, you're not going to wait for me to get my shizz together. It'll be BOOM, SONIC BLAST, EXPLOSIONS OF LIGHT, SUB ATOMIC PARTICLE SPLIT. It'll be intense. And I don't want to be preoccupied with myself and how crappy my life is and how I'm not really ready for this or perhaps I'm SO ready for it that I throw myself on you and freak you out. I want to be cool, yo. I want to be so cool you can't resist me.

Though. Of course. That's not hard. I'm too cool to resist already. I have to make sure I have a squirt bottle full of unflattering things to say so that I can spray them on unsuspecting suitors at the mall or the Walmart or the... office cafeteria (Mazatlan).

I'm thinking about you the whole time, though. I'm trying to. I wish you would just show up and rock my world already. I'm impatient, and I don't want you to miss me in my prime. Hurry up, okay? I'll keep hanging tight over here, and you keep doing whatever it is you do. But please don't forget about me. Its hard to remember what you're supposed to look like, but I think I'll know you when I see you.

Maybe I won't be surprised at all when we meet. Maybe you'll just walk up and I'll say "Hello, other-half. Where have you been all this time?" And we'll exchange awkward stories of how long its taken us to find each other, and how ridiculous it's all been, what with the boobie traps and dead ends and do-not-pass-go's, do-not-collect-200-dollars's. And we'll hold hands and walk out into the rest of our lives like old friends.

Maybe, anyway.