Saturday, July 26, 2003
      ( 6:49 PM ) Rebecca  
OK, a girl has her limits.

And mine was reached last night when I had to sit inches away from South African Boy, bronzed, muscular, and dripping wet, wearing nothing but a towel.


What, I ask, you, am I supposed to do?

I suppose I could put a moratorium on us swimming laps together (for which, I might add, he wears a Speedo.) “Sorry SAB, but I cannot bear to be in such close proximity with your godlike body any longer!”

Every guy-girl friendship has its moment of truth, no? The point at which one expresses interest in the other, and the other either reciprocates or he doesn’t? But either way, at least the truth is on the table, and you try to make things work from there, right? Well, I’m almost at that point.

As if swimming laps next to me in a Speedo weren’t enough, SAB took me and Galpal #1 out swing dancing the other night. Though I barely knew what I was doing, the firm yet gentle way he swung me around, dipping me, turning me, pushing me away, then pulling me close, made me feel graceful and taken-care of.

Add to that the the fact that he was the best looking man there.

Add to that the fact that I got to hold his hand and touch him.

Add to that the fact that I've always wanted a man who can dance.

And you have one surefire way to reignite le crush de BB on SAB, which has lain dormant these last two weeks as my feelings for IRD have intensified.

I am not so excited about another moment of truth. I just had one of those in New Orleans with Sexy Blue-Eyed Boy. They are necessary sometimes, but tres sucky. Especially if you are the one forcing the truth.

And this is what I think SAB will say.

“BB, I like you, but you work right across the HALL from me. And I am smart enough --- unlike you apparently, which is really crazy because just last summer you thought you were going to DIE because you had to work down the hall from the man who broke your heart – to not date someone who works in such close proximity to me.”

Or he might say, “Huh? Wha'? Me attracted to you? Are you kidding?” Or “Oh yeah, baby, I’ve just been waiting for you to say something!” in which case I would have to make a choice between him and IRD, and how in the world would I do that?

OK, I’m going to admit something here that I’ve never admitted before. This is hard for me, so please be kind. Don’t judge too harshly.

I am Breakup Babe. And I have a commitment problem.

Oh, you knew that already? Hmm. Well good for you.

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