Spill it.

I would like to officially announce that I have successfully made it through the summer as a single girl and to be honest – I was sort of afraid it might not work. I have always been “that” girl, I think… that girl who is always in a relationship or has a guy on the side. And after the dissolution of my two year relationship last April I vowed to myself to stay single for an entire year. However, when I made this vow, there was already a lurking “if I even make it through the summer” thought in the back of my head.

That lurking thought was mostly due to the discovery of the inevitable post-break-up “Mr. Perfect” a mere four days after the death (or official death – as it had already been dead for months) of my most recent relationship. This man was a 6’7”, green-eyed, six-packed, comedic athlete, who - - only two years after graduating college with honors had a job that already allowed him to buy a house, a fancy car, and a flat screen TV that wouldn’t even fit into my living room (and my TV is already pretty big). I got giddy just thinking about him, and the butterflies constantly flapping their wings in my stomach kept me almost permanently ten feet off the ground. I loved having a hunk by my side - a gorgeous man calling me back, making me laugh, and wrapping his arms around me on the couch.

However, when he stopped calling in late June, I was almost thankful – because I knew that I had it bad and there was no way I’d ever turn him away just because of a silly ‘Stay Single for a Year’ vow. I was desperately confused in the first few weeks after he stopped calling, but realize now that “desperate” had probably been eeking off my body all along. I suppose I’ve never really learned, as I never really had to, how to fully turn off “relationship mode.” This makes me exorbitantly thankful that he stopped calling now – because once he left I found that mode finally disintegrating within my body. I found in its place an exploding happiness that puts the stupidest grin you’ve ever seen on my face (more so than the “Mr. Perfect" butterflies). Something I once thought was reserved for teenage love stories was brimming over from a confidence that now relies solely on me to feed it, and oddly enough, is stronger than it’s ever been as a result. Not to mention “Mr. Perfect” was obviously looking for a ho not a housewife, and I’m just not that girl. . .

I tried to tell my friends once that I was “staying off guys” for a year, but let’s be honest, not only is that a bit drastic, but the single life and dating is just way too fun. So here is where I wish to divulge my dating tales in hopes of somehow preventing a day to day or text to text divulgence to my friends – an act that would surely affix that “boy crazy” cast type to my persona – a label I fear that I might already have. I can talk politics, religion, current events, and pop culture with the best of them (ok, lied about the politics part) but many times I find guys appearing simply way too much as my general topic of conversation. So at least here, I won’t have to guess if that raised eye brow might or might not have been the slightest suggestion of whether or not you want to hear about how I met a guy in the Supermarket today, and he was soooooooo cute. Yada yada yada. In any event, it spills here.