Creating Something from Nothing

Okay, so if you have read much of this blog you pretty well know that I can blow a little thing way the freaking heck out of proportion. It’s what I do. It’s how I survive the boring, humdrum life that I have. I rant and ramble about one man or another constantly and how they are total scum and unworthy of fabulous me, and then I turn right around and completely throw myself at them with oh how much I love them and need them and yada, yada, yada. Well, you know the drill if you’ve been here a while, and if you haven’t well then be grateful that I just gave you the Cliff Notes version (Do people still use Cliff Notes? I don’t know because it has been an awfully long time since I was forced to take a test on a book I had no desire to read.) so that you don’t have to wander back through the annals of this blog to see it for yourself. (Although if you want to see it for yourself it is a bit like a train wreck – horrifying and yet somehow you just can’t look away – so be warned and head on back into the deepest darkest archives.)

And just as an aside from the main point of this post (which we’ll get to in a bit so just hang on with me here), notice that in spite of my unfailing claims to being bi I am constantly and forever obsessing over men. Rarely do I have real world relationships of a certain kind with women. It is not that I am at all against them. It is not that I don’t have female objects of my affection. It’s just that I am absolutely horridly clumsy in my approach to the same gender. I have darned near come to the conclusion that women just aren’t worth the trouble, and men are just so darned easy. (Sorry men if that offends you, but really, you do tend to think a lot below the belt instead of above, and it does make you pretty easy pickin’s. Women on the other hand are a difficult bunch of bitches. How straight men without oodles of money ever find a woman is beyond me. I fist bump you for your prowess poor but honorable men with good women.)

But back to the story at hand, ahem, what was it again? Oh yes. The dastardly V-word has jumped up and slapped me upside the head with something (which is probably totally and completely nothing at all) from left field. A boyfriend from high school, the very first boy I ever loved (no not J, he was the second boy I ever loved, but if you want to know more about this one go here) posted a message on my Facebook page this morning. It was a simple message really, just “Happy V-word Day to my first kiss!” (Only he used the real V-word, not “V-word”, got it?)

My first instinct was to comment back with some sort of witty sarcastic reply. I paused though and chose instead to post a simple “Thank you!” back. Throughout the day the thought that I should have tacked on a “Happy V-word Day to you too!” or perhaps “Happy V-word Day to my first love!” or some such thing ran through my head. But I didn’t because once the original thanks was out there it seemed too much to go back to post a second thing, that it might make me look [insert derogatory word of choice here, such as needy, pathetic, or stupid just to name a few to get you started].

So now I turn to you, wise and wonderful invisible internet friends. What do you think? Is this an opening gambit by him to me? Was this just a totally and completely innocent post by him to a friend? (BTW, I went to his Facebook page and saw that he only posted on one other person’s wall in the last 24 hours and that it was completely unrelated to V-word Day so it wasn’t like he was going around posting V-word Day greetings on lots of friends’ pages.) Do I go anywhere else with this, like sending out a feeler of some sort to him to test the waters of whether there is something more there? Do I just count it as one of those random things that means absolutely nothing? Why, dear readers, did he post this thing to me? Why, oh why, did he stir me up so?

Why? Why? Why?

Oh how I hate V-word Day.