With a Chaser, Please

It started out young.

I was always the girl who chased boys on the playground. I remember running around the blacktop, on the playground that had a map of the contiguous US on it, sprinting after a little boy named Whitney. Yes, he was a real live boy named after some family in the South (hence the name), and he had the most beautiful blue eyes and blond hair I have ever seen on a child.

And, oh, how I loved him.

Every time I heard Whitney Houston sing "How Will I Know?" I would think about Playground Whitney. How will I know if he really loves me? I say a prayer with every heartbeat... Running through my head as I ran on the pavement in my brown Girl Scout uniform, hoping to catch him. But I never would.

Things haven't changed that much.

These days I exercise more conservative decision making when it comes to who and whether I will actually hit the playground full speed ahead. I've learned what rejection tastes like and I've decided I much prefer the flavor of the savory tater tots they served in the cafeteria in grade school. Analogy time: Sometimes when you chase - you get your knees skinned. It goes with the territory if you're going to be balls out about a risky situation. Other times you get tater tots: something that tastes good for a while but doesn't really have much substance, and doesn't really keep you satisfied.

Anyway.

I recently had my moment of closure with someone whom I didn't chase. John and I had dinner this week since he is moving to Columbus and our chance to visit will be greatly diminishing. After dinner, we kind of deduced the evening was our Big Goodbye. There was one point (and I may be completely wrong here) where I felt like maybe John was trying to open up the chapters of the past, but I told him I was pretty much sold on the idea of Over. Once someone tells a girl he just doesn't like her in that way, he pretty much can't go back on that - 'cause she won't let him. At least if she's smart.

I guess you could say I'm a "one strike - yer out" kind of girl.

I'm torn from time to time: Do I chase, or do I be chased? Do I sack up and play the fool when my chasing isn't so reciprocated? Or do I sit dormant and just wait for the fleeting moments when I want to chase back someone who is chasing me?

God, is this making any sense?

Blogging friend t2ed is a wealth of dating knowledge. He sometimes rattles off the most amazing posts to help people (girls/guys clueless/intheknow) figure out how to maneuver through the Sea of Singlehood.

I guess I should just keep listening to the people who know what they're talking about, because I have no effin' clue.

And I hate getting skinned knees.