Usually dating involves meeting someone, liking this someone, having fun together, falling into a state of boredom or resentment and climaxing with a break-up. What happened with Bullseye did not in any way, shape or sexy form, follow the pattern of dating as it is known to the world.
Things ended in what I believe to be the most polite and civil way possible. It was my doing, mainly because everything must live within a box to save me from going mad. You see, Bullseye, as previously noted, is fresh out of a long-term dating situation. It is his right to play the field, enjoy his freedom and more or less get his dick wet as he sees fit.
In truth, the Universe and I have an emotionally charged relationship that borders comical and tragic. Had I met Bullseye two years ago I would have probably been less interested because he would not fit into the character type I needed for crafting a story. Meeting him now, I like him and would be interested in pursuing the always turbulent concept of dating. He’s more appealing because he doesn’t fit my mold type and thus is unlikely to turn into a storyline. Sounds like a waste of writing time, but in fact, it’s nice to have a person come along that hasn’t been provided by the Universe for nothing more than emotional terrorism. I mean, me terrorizing them and myself.
To be clear, I made the move to end things mainly because it was one foot in and one out. Bullseye is cute and nice and does all of those boyfriend things you want. On the flipside these things don’t mean what you want because in fact there is no commitment which makes you [me] a glorified fuck buddy. Which isn’t really what I’m going for at the moment.
So, I stepped away and maybe at some point we’ll be great friends who drink and laugh about this and that. For now, it’s me, the cat and whichever friends want to brave the frigid NYC streets to troll the bars.