Friday, April 6, 2012

Going Fishing This Weekend


There is one demon I have failed to ever mention.  I'm not entirely sure I can count him as a demon, solely because we have never actually dated.  The Fisherman and I have known each other for about five years now.  Though some say "ideals" are the root of misery when it comes to love, if I were allowed an ideal partner, The Fisherman would come awfully close.  He is the mountain girl's version of a romance novel hero.   He has lived in the wilderness as a fishing guide and is about as outdoorsy and manly as they come.  Growing up, my Dad always told me real men carry a knife in their pocket.  The Fisherman always has knife in a his pocket.

As I said, we have never seriously dated.  If only because we live in different states.  Somehow, we almost always seem to be magnetically drawn to one another when we sense the other might be single.  We can go six months to a year without seeing one another, only keeping friendly contact.  Then BOOM - stars align.  We both conveniently end up unattached at the same time and the flood gates open.  Each time, it's the same story.  We see each other as much as we can, travel between locations, express over and over how if we lived near each other, things would be perfect.  We eventually drift apart, one or both gets involved with a more local romance and we remain "friends" until that sixth sense kicks in again.

So there I was, last weekend.  Celebrating a hike with some friends over a pitcher of microbrew in the afternoon sun, loving my single and free life, when my text alert buzzes.  Before I even checked my phone, I already knew who it was.  I knew the dam had been released.  Today - just hours ago - The Fisherman informed me he is checking out of work early to make the few hour drive to visit me for the weekend.  Hell yeah!  But.  Wait.  Just WHAT THE FUCK do I think I'm doing?

I don't want the distraction of a man right now.  I sure as hell don't want a relationship.  I just freed myself from being shackled.  I have been restless for too long.  Since ending things with The Writer, I couldn't be happier about my singledom.  In fact, I have hiked over 55 miles in the last 2 weeks of freedom.  That is not a typo.  Fifty-Five fucking MILES.  I have been able to keep my home in order, actually focus at work, take care of my dog, see my family, drink beers with my friends while listening to MY choice in music.  Life has been very good.  The last thing I want is anyone or anything getting in my damn way.  Yet I know, I always enjoy every minute I spend with The Fisherman.  And you know why?  Because I can do all those things with him.  We are so similar in our interests and passions that it is just easy.  Very easy.  Sure, we'll probably sober up from our playing house drunk when he leaves on Sunday.  And I will likely shed a tear as he loads his dog into the back of his Subaru to drive away.  I will feel a pang, knowing it seems unfair we can't be together.  But it's okay.  I find justification in knowing that Sunday will come.  And I will still be single.  And I will not have had to sacrifice a single part of my weekend to spend it with him. 



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