Have you ever met a guy who makes you so shiver with awkwardness to the point that it becomes comfortable because you’re finally yourself in your skin?

Have you ever met a guy who says all the wrong things but still manages to make you smile foolishly and without regret?

Have you ever met a guy who frustrates you beyond belief (and you swear there’s steam blowing out of your ears every single moment you converse and your eyes have manifested into a fiery devilish red by default of speaking to him) but you still feel your heart skip a million beats in one nanosecond because you’re suddenly the seven year old girl eagerly anticipating a trip to Disneyland the next day?

Have you ever met a guy who’s so wrong for you emotionally, spiritually and realistically but physically you can’t help but want more, need more and demand more?!!

Have you ever met a guy who responds to your God-forsaken wit with as much, if not more, wit of compatible comparison and makes you wish you were more charming and quicker on your feet?

Have you ever met a guy who confuses and mystifies you like every other man on this planet, but somehow, you seem to understand and interpret with every single text, e-mail and phone call flawlessly?

Have you ever met a guy who makes you melt, physically and emotionally, with every stupid joke he makes, stupid gesture he enacts or simple grin from ear to ear?

I met that guy. I fell for that guy. And then, like every other guy, he discovered I was crazy and stopped responding.

As I drink my third glass of wine on another Friday night (for which I choose not to venture out and instead sit here and blog my emotional rollercoaster of thoughts), it all becomes so clear to me.

I am crazy. I am insane. And I do drive some people both crazy and insane. But that is part of who I am and whoever (if anyone) learns to love me for who I am one day… will understand that and some.

He will think of the crazy shit I do and laugh. He will recall the silly stuff I over analyze and be flattered. He will ponder why I keep bombarding him with instant messages and smile that he is one of the many I focus on during my day of multitasking. He will want me to text him inappropriate randomness throughout the day. He will welcome my crazy thematic outfit for the night regardless of how hot or stupid I look. He will realize I am me and that I may be certifiably insane but 100% real and he will love me and then some.

Until that day, I will remain a bit bitter and a lot single. I will drink by myself to shitville in my amazing apartment and refuse to go on bad dates with people I am not attracted to because life’s too short – I’d rather spend time with myself than some lame guy who bores the shit out of me and causes me to dream up new blogs about bad dates gone super bad.