I just want you to know I'm in, I'm all in

I was getting into the zone last night to write this--and, of course, the zone means procrastinating to the point of almost even watching Chuck just because it was sitting in my DVR you're welcome Heather--and I had even spent the day pondering my ineptitude when deja vu hit me hard. I started to think about how I might write his face, his hair, his voice, and I realized that I had I already written about all the hims and explained every other bit too:

I don't fall for guys very easily. Don't believe me? I could name the guys I've liked--all of them, ever--in short, rapid succession starting from the sixth grade to the present and be finished before you finished reading this sentence. ... It's been a particularly dry spell. My heart got broken (years ago) and ever since then, I've had significant trouble meeting someone I like enough to like, let alone date. My stupid boundaries and my awesome friends are both obvious reasons for this.

The first and latest men I've loved nicely represent a whole love history of embarrassment and failure. You're either a douchebag, on TV, don't know I exist, out of my league, only go for girls who sing, work with me, live far away, or come with a serious case of dysfunction. But aren't you glad to know that you're one of a select few? You have something that I find inexplicably attractive even though I shouldn't, and that is very rare.

(from my January 27, 2009 post)

I watched the Friends episode in Barbados when Charlie tells Ross she likes him and Rachel tells Joey she likes him and the whole time I was watching I was thinking, "Schilbot, telling someone you like them is so nerve racking! In fact, it's pretty exciting!" Because of the ridiculous amount of time I've spent neither pining nor moving on I had forgotten the terrible, no good, very bad awfulness that is confessing. I am totally a trouper when it comes to unrequited love, but even I know when to call it a day and realize when something is never going to happen. (And by know, I mean remind myself every few months when I slip back into being a trouper.)

Let's say that right now I'm waiting for my latest crush.