Foreign currency

There was a Norwegian. We had this wonderful e-mail courtship. This lovely trans-Atlantic lovefest. I was also dating someone locally at the same time.

And it had to end. I got more serious about said local boy, and it felt wrong. It felt wrong. So I ended the e-mail lovefest.

But that only lasted a couple months, before we tentatively began speaking again. E-mails. Skype chats.

I ended things with the boyfriend, the Norwegian planned a trip to see me. Unoffically, of course. He planned to see "the regional area," but really, it was me.

It felt like such a Big Deal. A man was flying thousands of miles just to see me? What a grand romantic gesture! Until we actually saw each other. Until he started touching things and always being around and not really liking cats. Until he used this one annoying voice constantly and would look at me like he could see no one else.

Obviously, it had to end. I had to send him packing. I'm a self-sabotager. I am. I want a man I want a man I want a man Iwantaman IwantamanIwantamanIwantaman until I have him. Because where's the fun in that?