The year of Z

The end of the year is in sight and I haven't blogged about anything else but her. And it's not as if anything real is happening, oh a lot of things are happening--inside my head. It could all be inside my head for all I know, all that happened was one evening.

One wonderful, delightful evening of platonic bliss. I would exchange the best sex I have ever had for one more not-even-a-beso night with her. But all I've gotten the rest of the year is getting shot down. Again and again. If I were a fighter pilot and I kept getting shot down and I'm still alive to tell my tale I'd be the best damn flier out there. But it doesn't feel that way. I just feel like any loser feels, like I missed my target.

Now I don't know whether to ride this out or to try and complete my mission. I could be fighting other, equally attractive, battles but there's just something about this one that has dug its claws in me and refuses to let go. Or maybe I'm the one who can't let go.

Ok this is starting to revolve in circles.

I don't know what to do. I've questioned myself, analyzed my "moves", and yet, after all the hemming and hawing and feelers, I feel like I'm always back where I started.

And now I don't know how to end this entry properly.