Click It Three Times Like Dorothy

Famous last words: I met a guy.

I did though, meet a guy. And I didn’t like him. I didn’t like him at all; he was all “look at me” with his thin but full brows and stalker like grin. He was real tall and real handsome but in that ugly way. But he was smug, and boy does he have a lot of flaws. I get a strange kind of high off looking for flaws in the people I find attractive. Keeps me safe. Keeps me lonely. But I think it’s better that way. Me being lonely, I mean. Makes me mysterious. Makes me hot in a way you “can’t necessarily put a finger on.” At least that’s what a friend told me while I was sitting on her couch, trying to ignore the fact that I’ve been sitting on my keys for thirty minutes because I’m too lazy to move. What can’t you put a finger on, though? Me? Is my high standards fostering my untouchable nature? Well, who woulda thought. Anyways, this guy is showing up everywhere, in that side-character-turns-prevalent-character way, and I don’t think I want him to be a prevalent character, and I’m sure I made that very obvious as well; but I don’t think he cares. He wouldn’t be my pick. Actually, he’d probably be my last pick. Is that why I’m his first? I digress. It’s that push and pull thing guys love. My off-putting nature really rev’s ‘em up big time. It’s always the “I thought you hated me” with a smile. It’s not hatred. It never really is. Just indifference maybe. Probably. No, definitely. Anyways, this is me, digressing. This guy got me thinking about love and sex and all that gray area stuff that makes us human. I hate all of it. No mystery there, just raw, unfiltered vulnerability. Walk into a room with love and you’ll find there’s no walls, or floors, or a ceiling either. Everyone’s just sort of floating around and levitating in a bliss. Just makes it all the more scary; falling with no floor to catch you. I think I’d like to be in love. Never been before. Just to see what it’s like. But I suffer from one-foot-out-the-door syndrome. Can’t talk to someone unless I’m on the way somewhere. Can’t love you unless I’m already leaving. Can’t have sex unless there’s no strings attached. But with me, there’s always strings attached. I gotta be able to click my heels three times and vanish in thin air. Gotta be able to teleport to Kansas; somewhere without you. Gotta get safe. I get too claustrophobic too fast. Always choose flight over fight. Never one to argue back and forth. Always one to shut the door quietly behind me, and never look back. Would’ve made God’s perfect wife for Lot. Woulda made god’s perfect Orpheus; the way I run with no questions asked. So maybe to save us all some trouble, I’ll keep looking for flaws in the people I find attractive so that I stay all quite, pensive, and lonely. And don’t worry you don’t have to order a taxi or drive me; I’ll click it three times like Dorothy to get home.