Certainly it depends on the thing. That last pitcher of Margaritas may make the amateur alligator wrestling competition sound fun, but it's probably a bad idea. But I'm talking about those times when you have a decision that's not so simple, that doesn't have a clear black-and-white choice, where either road that you take has its own set of consequences and rewards.
I've always been of the opinion that when the choice involves action or inaction, the action choice is always better. I think it comes a lot from improv training, where you learn to leap and trust that something will come to you.
But I have this realization that when it comes to matters of the heart, I rarely leap. When it comes to that you should ask her out moment, I don't do it. The moment always passes.
There are a ton of movies about this phenomenon, and they all say the same thing: take a chance you chickenshit bastard. It's a really simple message, the guy always gets the girl, and they live happily ever after.
In truth, there is no Happily Ever After. There is only a different road than the one you would have taken.
There are women that I have not asked out on dates that I could have at one time or another. Many of those women are still friends to this day; I love, admire, and respect them, but had I dated any of them, I'd most likely be relegated to the string of "guys that I used to date" and long been forgotten in the dust of the past. Hell, I think of women that I used to date, and there is really only one that I have any contact with at all. And honestly, I don't regret any of the friendships that have lasted.
And that's the thing. I like my friends. I wouldn't trade them for anything. So when it comes to dating someone in the sense of relationship fodder, I'm screwed.
Okay, that needs some clarification.
A while back, I was asking about the difference between someone who is a close friend and someone who is someone that you're with in the relationship sense. And it's not an easy question, but the answer has been coming more sharply into focus.
When you're with someone, you trust them more. You let down your guard with them more than you would with someone who is even a good friend. And you reciprocate. You provide them with the environment where they can trust you and let their guard down.
When you're with someone, you know how they smell in the morning.
So all of this talk about secrets and openness and my desire to not hide behind stuff is an attempt for me to regain the intimacy and trust that I miss, or to make what I have to hide so worthless that trust comes easy because it seems more like intimacy then.
In a way, I'm chasing the illusion of intimacy.
I suppose in a way it's better than buying a big red
Look, I liked going out last night. I enjoyed the hell out of the company, and there wasn't any romantic maneuvering happening (or at least none that I was a part of). It was just comfortable and playful and happy. I need to find a way to have more of that.
But there's still this big piece of me that craves intimacy. And I don't want that to get in the way. I don't want that to cloud my vision or smear vaseline over my perceptions, or throw me to the wolves of second-guessing.
Because it's like tequila and alligators: they just don't mix.