Okay, it is for public consumption. Sort of.

M3 asked me the other night, in one of the more awkward moments of the past few months, why I don't date. I was sort of gobsmacked, so I gave her a crap answer and changed the subject. The question has refused to be put to rest so easily, though.

I can't give you a precise answer that lays open the deep-seated neuroses at my core, or if I can, I'm not going to. But looking back over a good 10 years of having crushes on boys, I can tell you about the rather disturbing pattern that emerged.

All my crushes take a wrong turn somewhere and end up in the Friend Zone.

I suppose this isn't that shocking a conclusion, and it speaks well of my ability to get a bead on people, but yo. Seriously, I counted, and I came up with ten separate instances of this happening since I was sixteen. Not great for my self-esteem, but I have a whole bevy of guys I can call on to fix my computer, to teach me how to change my oil, to rant about why the Mets suck so fully, and to watch movies where things explode. My guy friends are princes among men, and if some of them make my heart twinge a little in quiet moments...well, it's not a fairy-tale ending, but I'll take it for now.