She's a bitch, and her name is Timing.

Timing is everything. Or so they say.

I say, Timing can be a real bitch.

I am feeling so ridiculously attracted to a certain man and I happen to be moving out of state in less than six weeks.

Just so you know, I may feign surprise, but truthfully, there is none here. Not with me; I've come to expect such things.

Back in early December, I was really jonesin' to ask this guy out. I met him at school and had been oh-so-subtly keeping my eye on him. He intrigued me and THAT was enough to prevent me from asking him out. (Kind of backasswards, I know.) See, I knew that if I went out with him, I'd begin to like him and I just didn't want to travel that road, knowing full well I'd be leaving in March. Call me crazy, but I seek to avoid torturing myself if at all possible.

But, how did I know I'd fancy him, you ask?

There was just something about him: Intangible. Sexy. Captivating.

Any time I use three adjectives like those to describe a man, I pretty much understand what I'm in for. Because, that special kind of three-adjective man has only shown his face in my world once before, and for simplicity's sake, I'll just say, it wasn't pretty.

But, I digress. The next logical question is: If you had effectively made up your mind about the situation in December, why are we here?

Wellll...

The term at school ended and I went on holiday to Phoenix. I didn't see the 3-Ad School Boy for a few weeks. Yet, I'm fairly certain I thought of him - and consequently, my reluctance - every damn day during that period. Apparently, I wasn't going to let myself off the hook so easily.

I began to envision the regret that would accumulate if I didn't give in to my urges, and so I came to the conclusion that I'd rather deal with feelings of attraction and intense emotion, than try to cope with those of regret. I resolved my cognitive dissonance by telling myself I would be an idiot if I let the opportunity pass. Simple, eh?

That calmness of spirit lasted until about halfway though our first date...at which point I began to silently curse myself.

F&@k! Sh%t! What do you think you're doing? Do you realize how SCREWED you are?! You've gotten a taste, now it's all over. You dumbass. F*#K.

So yeah...that was Date #1. Since the idea of avoiding torture has effectively gone out the window, I won't bother telling you the things I'm saying to myself now.