new beau's

I'm reading a book by Chelsea Handler and it is delightfully entertaining.
She is hilarious, kind of a bitch with a heart of gold, who surprises herself with her own actions and is frisky enough to be a dude.
A kindred spirit if ever there was one.

But Chelsea and I differ in one major way.
(And no, it's not just the fact that she's a rich celebrity and I merely write a blog few other than my own Mother read).
Chelsea is a woman who knows how to rebound.
I, however, do not.

It's not like I haven't attempted to.
I've gone on several mediocre dates.
I've joined a bullshit online dating site.
I go happenin' places with happenin' folks.
But I just can't have a forced connection with someone that isn't genuine.

I know those girls, those girls who are never single because they don't know how to be and so they just hop from guy to guy.  And all they ever talk about are their relationship problems and their exes and if you ask them what's new with them they begin every sentence with, "Well, WE did this...."

That isn't really what I'm craving either.

But it is definitely easier to stop thinking about one boy when you have other boys to distract you.  I do have a plethora of very fabulous gay boyfriends and husbands in my life.  But I can only count on them so far as no delicious looking men walk in the bar we're at.  And that's fine because we always have an amazing time.  But still there's something missing.

But I realized something today.
I realized there are those times when you want to share something with a friend, something you discovered or thought that spoke to you in this way that you know only a select few would really understand.
And it's weird when you feel like one of those few you could tell anything to you now have to accept telling nothing to.

It's just....strange.
And different.

And you have to find someone new to tell these things to.
But they may not get it.  They may not understand right away.
Or at all.

I think those people who really see us, who get us in this way that doesn't make sense because we don't even make sense are there just to remind us that we're not crazy.  And even if there are those who don't get our jokes or understand the words we don't say, there exists those individuals who do.

Even after they stop sharing stories.

So there's that.