Chance

And the plot thickens....

Time to introduce you to Chance, given this name because quite honestly, there's not a snowball's chance that anything would ever come of us in the relationship department. I am crazy about him. He has been a player in this game for just under a year, and in that year, has been the cause of many hours of laughter, and many more hours of sexual frustration.

A friend of a friend....a co-worker....(Damn that company ink)...and a partner in crime. We "get" eachother. We like the same things, dislike the same people, and tell the same bad jokes that no one but eachother find humor in. We cheer for the same sports teams, have the same breed of dog, and have made the same exact mistake in life.....we are the male/female version of eachother. I know what you're thinking, WTF? I know, Right? 90% of our jokes and witty comments are about our "future". We joke about marriage and moving away, having kids, the whole nine yards. At the end of the day he is the one laughing while, I have taken out my etch-a-sketch and drawn up the perfect little picture of what our future is supposed to look like.  And the Sucker award goes to....... Or does it? People see us and they think we are together.For the sake of sounding like a complete and utter cornball, who the fuck am I kidding-I am blogging about the lack of who-nanny in my life, I am the queen of the cornballs,  When we are I feel something -The eye contact is constant, but it has an intensity that can not be put into words...it melts me and folks, I'm an M&M kinda girl. . . .hard chocolate shell...takes a lot to get to me.....but that man! He leaves me feeling like I need more...more interaction...more attention...more whatever I can get a hold of -But what the hell am I supposed to do with a feeling....I'll tell ya what ya can't do with it !

The funny part to the story, is Chance is SO not my type. You would never pick him out of a line-up and say, "That's him. That's the one for Lucky".....never in a million years. He's short, well shorter than I prefer, 6'+ only for me please,  and he has freckles...two definate "NEXT" qualifiers in my book. . . but still he remains. No one gets it but me.

Now don't get me wrong people I am not sitting around waiting for the fact that I am basically amazing to hit him like a load of bricks, to be accompanied with a bout of "WTF am I doing? I have to get to her now." thoughts. I did, briefly, but following spending a weekend in the same bed without even an "accidental" brush up against me, I decided it was time to fold.

Does a part of me wish he would just get the picture, well of course, but in my deepest of hearts I know that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink...and apparently this horse prefers something other than water. And so I continue on my journey....

"My heart is set on you....I don't want no one else....and if you don't want me....I guess I'll be.....all by myself."