So I shot The Past Girl a text last Friday and there was no response ever since. And so, yes, I agree that I should keep chasing pavements and not stop with The Past Girl. But her lack of response means she's not interested. Not That Into Me. For whatever reason. Best case; She's not ready. Worst case; she's not interested in me.
And since me and Worst Case Scenario Man go so far back, let's wallow in that a little, say wot?
They're Just Not That Into You.
Which means I'm not the type that girls like. I don't bring the sexy. I outgeek all my geek buddies and heroes. I know so many geeks who are married and have kids. So Many. And I do mean the geeks who seem like geeks. Not the undercover geeks. Not the Geeks Who Can Pass For Straight.
So given the inability to be attractive enough to girls, the apparent answer seems to be to play for the other team. Easy for you to say. All you happily straight people reading this. All you unmolested folk who get to enjoy the lure of your genitalia without a society reprisal or message films that earn their actors Academy Awards because It's Important. You get to shag without worrying about representing a cause, defending a minority, taking on a mission, declaring a side, fighting social justice, and all the troublesome bullcrap that will. KILL. me. if I have to add their responsibilities to my already FUBAR'd life.
Go ahead and tell me that if you could flip a switch inside yourself and become homosexually inclined, (or rather driven) that you'd willingly do it. Tell me that. Go ahead. I DARE you.
Dammit, I'm so mad. I'm so angry. And lonely. Let's not forget that part.
But we must soldier on, mustn't we? And we shall.
I've got wonderful audio adventures to make and comicbooks to read. I've got ass to kick and names to take. I've got contributions to make.
Earth is stuck with me for another 40 years at least.