Once again, I don't know what I expected.
We'd met by chance in LA in March, when I'd taken my first scouting trip to try to find a California job. He introduced himself after spotting me in the crowd, took my number, and used it.
When I returned to California two months later, we serendipitously ran into each other in Palm Springs and reunited, in a big way.
We saw each other again in June.
My visits to LA became more frequent, both because of the urgent need for a salary, and for the urgent need to see him. He didn't visit me in New York. But he moved heaven and earth to see me once a month or so in LA.
And then it stopped, without explanation.
It stopped just as my trips to LA became more serious, just as it started to look like I would be getting a job and moving here.
Just as I found someone in New York worth staying in New York for.
I dismissed his sudden unavailability as a product of work, stress, schedule, etc., and despite his obvious disinterest, he still became my backup plan. Because of my own romantic developments in New York, I began rehearsing what I'd say to explain why we couldn't hook up again. I continued to try to see him, as I returned to LA to officially interview for my job, look for an apartment, and prepare to move, but he, like so many before him, had gone missing.
And then my guy in New York went missing, too, and became the one that got away.
And suddenly I had no one.
I suspected my LA guy had found himself a girlfriend, so I did the only thing I could do: I asked him straight out. And thankfully, he was honest, and confirmed that he had, but couched with doubts as to how it would turn out.
My backup plan had put me on the backburner.
And I was left with nothing but confusion.
I'm here now. Why couldn't he wait for me to get here?
I guess it wasn't me he wanted.
So just over two weeks into living in Los Angeles, still very much new-in-town, tenderhearted, vulnerable, and alone, I've had two dates and have kissed three guys. None of them seem to be interested in pursuing anything more with me. My New York exes have gotten used to the idea of me being gone, and have stopped sending me drunken messages late at night (though not so late on the West Coast). My LA guy - who'd become a regular suitor when I wasn't even living in LA - has found himself another.
And once again, I am alone. On Valentine's Day.
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