He thought he was too good for me. I knew better.
I thought I was too good for him. He knew better.
Neither of us would step down off our high horses long enough to stop judging each other silently. My face said, "in your dreams." His face so, "actually you're not the kind of girl I dream about." The whole thing was very unfortunate. Perhaps the psychic was right. I am clearly projecting a terrible negative energy during dates. I'm aware of it. I see it floating from in like the black smoke thing in LOST (I never understood that show). Oh well. I continued to look at him with a skeptical eye knowing that if I let my guard down for half a second he might weasel his way in and end up making me sorry I feel for it down the line. He continued to look at me like he knew I was "that girl", the one that no matter what a guy does it would never work out. Delusional. Both of us. What a match.