And I’m calling off the wedding now …

About a decade ago, I worked with this handsome fellow. Let's call him Cory. I was madly infatuated with him. Hung onto every word that slipped through his lips. Got lost in his deep green eyes. And of course, I mean, OF COURSE, all his jokes were absolutely hilarious. I was twenty.

You see though, he dated the blonde haired, blue eyed, fake boobed cliche Midwest turned Southern California chicks. I am not blonde haired nor I am blue eyed. And as Shakira puts it: my breasts are small and humble so you don't confuse them with mountains. Anyway, I digress. The point is that I was mad about Cory. And Cory was not mad about me in the slightest.

Well, time passes and we drift apart. Go years without talking. Then we reconnect through AIM. Remember AIM? Yeaaaah. So, we reconnect and email sporadically for years. Finally, last year we start hanging out again. The first time we actually met up for a beer I was SO nervous that I was shaking violently when I grabbed my beer. I had to turn my back towards him to box him out from seeing my trembling beer holding hand. I know, I'm so lame. Even lamer: I spent quite a bit of time to look casual messy effortless cute. But, you know what? Casual messy effortless cute actually requires a lot of effort. Got to get the hair strands just right to shape your face. Wear the right amount of makeup, but make it look like you aren't wearing any makeup, really. Wear jeans. Skinny jeans with Toms? Or straight legs with flops? Hmm. I wonder if I should wear heels, actually. Heels do make my ass pop -- and ass popping is actually effortless if I wear heels. And dangling earrings, but no other jewelry. And. Perfume. Duh. But not too much, you know. You know that rule that if you can smell the perfume yourself then that means you are wearing too much? Damn. I totally smell the perfume on myself. I guess I gotta drive with the windows down to the bar so I air myself out. Okay, so finally I am effortlessly fake date ready to hang out with the boy I had the hots for when I was twenty who dated Hollywood wanna-bes double ds. And I am still small and humble. No wonder I shaked (shook?) so violently when I grabbed my beer. I over thought my effortless look to hysteria. But whatever. Moving on.

Oh, boy.

So, getting back to Cory. We hang out and it was great. We hang out more and it is more great. Then I move back to the great Pacific Northwest. And I leave all fantasies and daydreams and happily ever afters with Cory behind in California. However, we text from time to time. And we talk on the phone. And I still wonder if he is the one for me. And if there is even a one for me. And I spend hours over analyzing his texts. For instance, in my attempts to seek clarity in our friendship and assert a platonic relationship, which is actually for myself than for him, I text him "Despite the period of not being friends & now living in different state, you're a good/close friend, dude. I appreciate you & will totally send you an invite to my wedding." Setting personal boundaries, right? Like, this is me telling myself (and him, of course) that I am not madly into you again. I am now thirty years old. I am a sexy, confident, fabulous woman with small and humble breasts. And he responds " I totally feel the same way and if I ever do get married you will be there as well." One minute later he follows up with "Okay I'm home and I'm going to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Okay. Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

Please note how I said I will send him an invite to my wedding. And now please contrast that with how he said that I will be there with him as well. Like, I clearly said I will invite him to my wedding. But he was clever, right? He left his response open-ended, vague, and ambiguous. Like, is he implying that I will be at the alter with him if he ever gets married? Am I supposed to be his bride to be? I have read this, and re-read this, and sought second, third, ninth opinions on this matter. Chicks and dudes. And. I have come up with no answer. Please feel free to share your thoughts on interpreting this mess for me.

I have nothing left to share about this. Except that I have imagined our wedding being an outside wedding. And it is sunny. I see grass. And white flowers. Okay. Enough of that, shut up already. It was only a text. A stupid text. And he is online dating. And I'm calling off the wedding now.