Why can't bitchiness be my weakness? Or math? (Wait, math IS a weakness...)

“The thing is,” he whispered, “I’ve found your weakness.”

“What’s that?” I whispered back, smiling.  

“You fall in love.”    I stilled, and a chill ran down my spine.  

His voice sounded strangely sinister, and I caught my breath. That was the moment; the moment I realized that agreeing to a date after the incident might not have been the best idea. 

“You must have misunderstood my text!” he said earlier.  “I’ve been thinking of you.”  And because I wanted to THINK I had made a mistake, I allowed myself to take the rap.

“But it SOUNDED like a dump,” I insisted.  Of course it didn’t matter, because apparently I was wrong.  And because I am always willing to admit when I’m wrong, or at least bite the bullet if it smoothes things over, I swept it under the rug.

And then after a strange week of being manipulated, I realized this:   I’m going to try very, very hard never to fall in love again.  I don’t want to be controlled, pressured, or made to feel inadequate, weak or crazy.

Sweet Jesus in heaven isn’t there anyone out there who is slightly normal?  

Sure, I’ve got weaknesses; Bar-b-que chips, cheap shoes, vodka, the ocean, laughter, Stephen King and my kids.  But I never thought that my ability to love would be my greatest weakness of all.

Well, I’m going to try very hard to never, ever make that particular mistake again.