My (non-existant) Love Life

Well, guys, the votes are in. It took a long time to gather them all from my massive fanbase, and it took even longer to count them. But I did it. And, wonder of wonders… everyone wants to hear about something that doesn’t exist!

Uh-oh.

In order for this to work properly and not blow my life up, I must make extensive use of vagueness and pseudonyms. No, you will not find hidden meanings within the pseudonyms. They don’t relate to real people in any way, shape, form or fashion. I’m probably the only person who can connect the dots, and I can tell you how a banana is related to the moon (you should ask me sometime. It’s actually quite fascinating).

So, here it goes…

In the short existence of the grand entity which we now refer to as James, he has only been involved in one relationship. Dear Rebecca and I enjoyed a few brief months of love before her family was moved by the military to Colorado… It was a very traumatic, trying time for us. At least, I’m pretty sure it was.

I was in preschool, after all.

Yup, that’s my grand list of previous relationships. A crush in preschool. You’ll have to fast-forward about ten years to reach the next marker of any significance in this area of my life. I fell for a girl named Lydia (yes, that is a pseudonym) who was in my class back at my old school. I liked her for about two years. We became friends.

And then I actually told her I liked her. *shudders*

That didn’t go over so well. However, after a period of time passed and a number of rumors that I didn’t like her anymore (started by yours truly) circulated, things kinda went back to normal. Then a whole lot of nothing happened for a long time. (That, unfortunately, seems to be my life’s pattern… a whole lot of nothing happens a whole lot.)

Then I left WCA. I met a looooot of new people. One of them was… Mia. That is the name by which I shall refer to her. I can’t tell you much about her for fear that she might deduce her own identity. And that would be bad, for reasons I may or may not soon explain.

One thing I will tell you – the angels weep for a quarter of her beauty.

Obviously, that’s not the only reason I like her (I’m not that shallow. Honest.) but it’s the only reason vague enough not to lead a direct trail back to her.

So why don’t I just ask her out, you ask? What’s holding me back?

The answer to this question is the beginning of the explanation of why my love-life is not existent. First of all, I am actually next to physiologically incapable of even breaching the subject. I’ve tried to bring up the topic – or, at least, the topic’s background setting – on a number of occasions. My brain tells my mouth what to say. My mouth says something completely different. It’s annoying as heck.

Now would also be a good time to talk about the plurality of character. A person, I contend, is not simply made up of one “consciousness”, if you will, but at least two (if not three). The Mind judges based on logic, benefits, detriments, and quantifiable results. The Heart makes decisions based upon feelings. The Soul makes decisions based on morals. When all three work in unison, they make up a person.

My problem is that my Mind tells me it’s a bad idea, my Heart says it doesn’t give a crap what my Mind thinks, and the Soul is remarkably silent on the issue. So I’m left in an ever-continuing fight between Heart and Mind. Heart is generally stronger than Mind, but Mind is strong enough to hinder Heart to the point of uselessness.

And so I wait. Sometimes I have hope, other times I have none. My philosophy, as always, is that we only have one life. If we don’t shoot for our dreams, we’re squandering the one chance we’ve been given.

Possibly the most frustrating part of this situation is that now, roughly 6 months after I started home schooling, she still makes me feel like a bloody school girl. Being the manly man that I am, this is unacceptable… but completely and entirely uncontrollable.

So, why am I telling you all this? Oh, I don’t know. You asked. I wanted to. Secretly, deep inside, I’m actually a romantic. But don’t tell anyone. It’ll TOTALLY ruin my image. I might keep you updated with developments on this field. I might not. I don’t know. But you may now commence wildly speculating on the true identity of Mia. Conspiracy theorists... Go! Until next time...

James

Romantic at Heart, Lord of All Things Sappy, Hider-in-the-Shadows, etc., etc.