Surely unsure

Almost every day, I change my mind about dating.

One day, I think I'm pretty set being single. I love weekends when I'm done with work at noon on Saturday and then don't have any communication (outside of the internet or random text) with another human being until Monday morning.

The next day, I think of how nice it'd be to have someone with whom to go see a movie or even settle at home and watch a game. I think of how great it would be to get to know someone new.  And let them know me, of course.  That's the scary part.

But, nevermind that.

Wanting to date and actually doing it (dating, that is) are two very different things.  I spent most of my teenage and twentysomething years wanting to date.  And I can count the number of dates I had in that time on two hands. I'm not joking.  And I'm even including outings which may or may not have been considered dating (see: Captain Clueless).

I know there are some people who can just say, "I want to go on a date this weekend." They barely get the words out of their mouths, and they have plans. I hate those people. Not really, but they do make me even more bitter and self-doubting.

If you've known me for any length of time or read the "Crushed" series on my private blog, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that my romantic life has been a complete cat and mouse game. Naturally, I've always been the cat, and the guy has been the mouse, scurrying away as frantically as he can into the nearest hiding place. Some even taunted me from that hiding place (or had their friends do it). And they've always gotten away. Despite how long I persisted or waited (three years with Captain Clueless), I never caught one.

Once I realized I was always the one pursuing, I decided to take a step back. At the time, I was still using online dating, and instead of answering profiles, I waited for someone to message mine. I don't think I have to tell you how that went. In a fit of frustration, I went through and deleted every online profile I had created. It took awhile. Not only because there were so many, but also because the cancellation procedures can sometimes be very involved. The sites always want to know why you're leaving.  And they try to offer you a free month.  Ugh.  Right, because I need another month of digital rejection.

Now, I don't necessarily want to be the mouse in someone else's chase. I don't want to be running from someone.  I sure wouldn't mind being pursued though ... by someone other than the smelly homeless man who runs for president every few years. He has asked me out three separate times in the last six months. Sadly, that's the best offer I've gotten in years. 

And I still don't understand why. 

Perhaps I never will know.

Or maybe I don't want to know. Maybe the answer would be harder on me than the uncertainty is.