Three steps to moving on

Part one: distraction. I met some girl, somewhere, through a common friend, and as we talked I thought to myself, hey, we're actually getting along quite well. I always felt I'm the obnoxious guy that nobody wants to spend time with - completely forgetting, and perhaps completely affirming, the fact that I have friends who, for the most part, forget that I exist. Anyway, we're actually getting along quite well, right. I always make this mistake of confusing this comfortable feeling with love, or at least infatuation, although that could sound quite correct. And, since I always make this mistake, I end up going through the crappy things that come with it.

I believe that we tend to like - as in that kind of like - people who we know we cannot attain. When you're cool, it's nothing. When you're cool but you don't feel that good about that person, you must like her. Thinking about it now, it's just a way for us to hold on to that budding friendship. I mean, if your differences get in the way, you'll break apart soon - and love will keep you together, right? And I know, we have differences. And I know, I cannot attain her, because somebody beat me to it. Cue those involuntary flashes, those moments when you imagine you and her doing things together.

Part two: distance. It could've gotten worse, if not for the fact that we live in two different worlds. I live on the southern end, while she's in the northern end. Considering our busy schedules, there's no chance we'd meet, as much as I'd love to invite her to coffee again, this time somewhere in the middle. Soon enough, I stopped having those flashes, thanks to the distance - oh, and a few text messages to friends, those very friends who tend to, for the most part, forget that I exist. "Am I delusional?" I'd tell one of them. "Why am I thinking that she's also hoping to have a relationship with me?"

And so, after I pin the blame on myself, for having a serious case of delusion, I forget something ever happened. Not that I forget she exists: I just learn to live with her existence, and slowly I get used to our differences, to the point where we talk about it, until they melt away and we become just that: friends, nothing else. We still talk once in a while, crazy discussions about musical influences and football, and it feels like we've known each other for a long time. And then I remind myself, it's only been months, and soon you'll act like you don't know each other.

Part three: denouement. Yes, sure, this sounds sad, but I've "fallen in love" with many girls over the past few years. Most of the time I've gotten past the pain, usually caused by me stopping myself from falling in love in the first place. That process varies, though: it can take me a week, or it can take me a year. A year, maximum. That should be enough time for me to slowly move away from where that particular girl is, and for me to find someone else to go clunkers for, and while the vicious cycle continues, at least I've moved past what I'd call my biggest pain yet.

This time, though, the three steps to moving on aren't there. And I thought I had them. I was having coffee with this girl I met through a common friend, and I started wondering, maybe we're good together? and then I tell myself., oh no, you bleeping aren't, and then I start texting people and, somehow, I start realizing how much of a fool I am. That's done. And that brings me back to one of the very first stories I told her, about a girl who I was trying to get over with. For quite a while now.

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