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I have written about Sheila in the past, and while we always were friends, there was a period of time that we stopped communicating. Well, she stopped answering my texts, and I stopped trying. But when you say you don’t have time to do your laundry, and then talk about the pot you smoked, it pisses me off that you expect me to travel an hour to you when I have three jobs and have to use weekends to get my work done. But mostly because he was a mechanic not too far away who offered to help me with my bike, and that I could just stop by. I was not thinking about his body language, or the fact that his offer was an outright invitation to get to know him better. (Funny, because before joining DT, I was trying to buy the domain.) The other writers got busy with other priorities.I didn’t know why she stopped talking to me on a regular basis, and while in my head, I was trying not to take it personally, my heart was not going to be a compliant follower. I had just gotten to the point where I was ready to forget her, and move on, then . Most of all, though you are doing what you think is everything you can do to better your life, the fact that you have mostly negative things to say makes me think it’s your attitude that needs to be better rather than your life. It’s been 4 months since starting to work with a therapist for 9-11 trauma, and I’ve been blessed by the presence of amazing people who have been supportive. Nor did I think that the Facebook message was strange, since I gave him my card… I didn’t give him anything but the bookmark that advertises the Alpha Dog book. But since I have a book, I stuck around and eked out articles. I believe it’s divine intervention, or the universe at work, that caused the spring of emotions to coincide with the drop in book sales.I felt rejected, and seeing pictures of her doing different things with other people, kind of bothered me. We might instant message one another from time to time, but nothing more. I go jogging with a group of people most Saturdays and one Saturday, Sheila showed up. In short, I’m writing this to let you know that I am no longer your girlfriend, because I refuse to subject myself to your pessimism. Book sales in a way had been a measuring stick for my mental health. But now that I’m healing and no longer sob at the thought of the towers crashing down, I’m ready to take on the role of wing girl once again. And it’s not too unlike a relationship with a date. I’ve always wanted people to write in and ask questions. In addition, I’m giving a Valentine’s gift: If you’re not a football fan, but your date is, the first Sunday in February can be a dividing day.
It’s nice that you spend time with your friends, and it’s a relief to see that you have friends. It’s that combination of chemicals in the brain that Helen Fisher talks about: adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin. I thought little of the meeting, took his card, said bye. A few weeks after the show, I get a Facebook message. I remembered him, not because he was a good looking guy… I remembered him partly because he had these eyes that seemed to look straight through me, and because of those eyes I remembered that he was easy on my eyes. I was there as press and had been interviewing exhibitors about their products. We finished dinner and headed to the train, since I’d left the bike at his garage to work on a few things. Instead of waiting for the next train, he insists on driving me home, 40 miles away. If you’ve noticed, I’ve been the primary writer for DT for a while.
It wasn’t a date, but we were getting together to watch a soccer match on television. I know I want you in my life.” I looked her in the eyes, and I knew she meant it. And especially don’t complain that you’re in school because of your ex-girlfriend. Today, it’s not the trauma that’s messing with my head. We had a conversation about owning 30-year-old bikes, and how he can help me with mine at his shop in upstate New York. I didn’t have cash for a new bike, nor money to spend on maintenance I could do myself. Her Facebook page doesn’t say she’s in a relationship. It even says it in my astrological charts – something I disdained until a few months ago. Sadly, in the past people used this quality against me, but I’ve since grown wiser.
“But, I don’t want that to happen again,” she said, “I was trying to figure a lot of things out, and I didn’t handle things very well, but I completely adore having you as a friend. But don’t complain about the one class you are taking or how much school work you have to do. At times I’ve had to leave work early because I could no longer think straight. There, at one of exhibits, I meet a nice-looking, average-build man with a dark beard – a motorcycle mechanic who is working the exhibit. So, when the mechanic offers to help me with the carburetors on my motorcycle in exchange for dating advice, of course I take the offer. I change the subject, “When you ask that girl out, don’t ask for permission.” He obliges and talks about this girl he had a crush on in high school. Then again, I didn’t consider the mechanic someone I was dating. How I managed to put out a book in a year escapes me, except for the fact that one thing had motivated me: wanting to help people.
Then we went to a Halloween party, and this happened. The comment dropped as though we were talking about the weather or the next soccer match. I want you in my life, and if it’s not going to work out the way I may want it to, then I just need to get the hell over it.” Sheila glanced up and to the left, then looked back at me. I mean maybe you should let go and not worry about where it’s going. In fact, I don’t really care if you have a college education at all. This year I hope to get on the race track and surpass my current street top speed of 95 mph. So, the International Motorcycle Show comes around and I go. Drawing on past experiences to write about dating and relationships is enough. Since I’m hungry, we go to a restaurant and sit down. “You realize that I made that offer to get you to come up here.” It didn’t register. After months of examinations and therapy, I finally realized that I had been living for the previous 10 years with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from 9-11.
None of these were dates, but it felt nice to be around her again. “I know there was a time that we weren’t talking, and I’m sorry about that,” said Sheila. “Look, I can handle almost anything, but we have to communicate,” I said, “you’ve got to talk to me. You are more intelligent than other guys I’ve dated, and because of this, I don’t mind that you’re in your 30s and haven’t graduated from college. This past November, my book sales dropped to the lowest level all year, and I didn’t know why. In fact, I almost gave up on this whole dating advice thing.