I thought this blog was over.

I've been at it again.

This summer saw the demise of a couple girls that were unfortunate enough to meet me. I still haven't mastered the art of hanging out with a girl and not having them get all wedged into my life. I jump ship as soon as they start thinking I'm boyfriend material. I mean, I am but I'm not about to give up on whatever it is I'm failing to learn as a single dude.

That doesn't matter though.

I had recently decided to break my long standing policy regarding ex's.

Which is: Friendly, not friends. No booty calls, or getting back together. Ever! and under no circumstances.

There was never a specific reason for this rule, I've always thought it was good common sense and abided by it. There have been plenty of difficult nights of weakness, in either the sad or wanting to do it ways, where I was severely tempted. I always held my ground and waited for the morning.

That changed in August, right around my birthday. She had a gift for me and wanted to take me out to dinner.

After a number of encounters with her, things felt good. We both seemed to have gained a lot of perspective on our lives. I could see the look in her eye, and remembered how exactly the same our sense of humor is. It was like a fire. I could tell she was still into me, and I realized I was too. So, I gave her a silver dollar and a kiss. I threw down my carefully prepared walls to let her in with everything I had. I didn't see the point in being cautious, my rule was broken and I didn't want to blow it by being timid. For the first time in 2 years invested emotions with someone.

It was awesome for a few weeks. It all felt right to me. We were back, and the near future looked fun. Then she started to retract. She was irritable, and less involved. Then she'd switch it up and be really into me. We had some talks, made some compromises, tried to understand. I felt my walls building themselves up again. I lost my usual swagger, and filled with uncertainty. I became her fool, bending and swaying to suit her mood. Not good.

On one fateful, beer inspired night of frustration I snapped. I called her out on her bullshit and said shame on you. The next morning feeling like I'd said too much, I tried to take some of it back and move forward with her. She wasn't into it, it ended.

Damn.

I licked the salt from my wounds and ran into the night on broken legs.

Yesterday I felt stronger, my blood was warm and pumping. My asshole demeanor and snarky arrogance were speaking to me once again. I felt like Frankenstein must have when he got zapped on the rooftop. It feels good.

I'm back on track. Single and not dating.