After my fifth beer, and my second whiskey, I tried to call her.
Straight to voicemail.
Goddammit.
I ordered another whiskey.
“What’s got your soul in knots?” an older lady asked me. She was sitting two seats away from me, an empty bottle of wine in front of her.
“A lady,” I told her, trying to brush her off.
“I already knew that much. What about the lady, though??”
I was drunk enough to spill my guts to her.
She was a great listener; didn’t interrupt me once; and her eyes never left mine. She even bought me another beer when she noticed that my whiskey was gone.
Nice lady. It’s rare to meet nice ladies that will listen to you yap at a bar.
After I was done telling her about this woman that I was falling for, she sat back, crossed her arms, and said,
"It’s your feelings for her that are killing your game.”
I must’ve looked confused because she tried to explain what she meant. But, in all honesty, I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“My feelings are the only reason I am into her?”
“Yeah, that’s the problem, kid.” She leaned forward, her elbows on the bar. “The reality is, the power of a relationship lies in whoever cares less. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but we aren’t exactly logical beings, are we? Love, it’s always been irrational. That’s what makes it different from everything we try to fit in our little logical boxes..”
“Can we really control our feelings, though? If love is so irrational, how can I pull the reins on it? How can I dial it back?”
“Hell if I know, kid. All I am saying is that your feelings are ruining your chances with her. Try caring a little less. Don’t be careless with her, but just care less. Get it?”
“Not at all. I either feel like I care way too much or not at all. There is no in-between.”
“You've been single for a while?”
“Yeah . . . Why?”
“It’s because of that. You care too much or not at all. You’ll have a tough time finding a lady worth any salt with going on inside of you.”
“How do I change?”
“I am no sage, kid. I am just a lady giving you advice on ladies. But, hell, what do I know? Love only came to me a few times and I rejected it. I am no expert on love.”
“Power dynamics? Caring less? It sounds so cold . . .”
“You’re getting it now.”
My phone started to ring and it was her calling me back. I looked at her name with the little heart next to it on my phone, and then up to the drunk lady in front of me, then back to my phone.
I sent my love to voicemail.
“Atta kid!” she said, walking over to me, slapping me on the back. “There’s hope for you!”
I smiled at her, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.
She bought us shots of vodka and we toasted to ‘changing’.
All of a sudden, I felt like I might roll over and sleep for the next five days.
CH 1/17/25
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