What I Haven't Said

Well...much like I don't introduce my future break-ups to people in my life, I do not discuss the dynamics of my dates until after they've gone down the crapper.


For nearly a month I was doing the pre-dating tango with a guy. Not shagging, but just talking. It was nice, novel, and sweet. Then, then one night I had the infamous butterfly on my face. After a month of shameless flirting, he saw the rash and asked "What's on your face?" Me: "A Lupus rash." He asked what that is, and I told him an autoimmune disease that in laymen's terms means my body thinks I'm allergic to me. I chuckled and reminded him that he can't catch it. That was right before Halloween. What did he do?


He slinkered away, just like they always do.


After all of these years you'd think I'd be used to it. You'd think I'd have an invincible thick skin. For the most part I do, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still piss me off. Sigh. Another one bites the dust, and once again the halls of my dating life are pretty thin.


One day I'll land a full line hire and get a dog. They never slinker away, unless they've peed on your trainers. But for Lupus...naw they stay even closer when they know you hurt, ache, and can barely breathe. Until then, I blog in the night and borrow my roommate's Golden Retriever. She's all mush, by the way.

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