“And why’s that?”
“Because my dating life in its entirety could fit on an index card. I suck at everything associated with dating.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I argue.
“You know my date that ended in tears the other night?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not even the worst experience I’ve had with the opposite sex.”
“Ouch.”
She nods. “Yeah. At this point, I wonder if I should just give up.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t be more than thirty,” I tell her.
“Thirty-three,” she corrects.
“Still, that’s way too young to give up on love.”
“Eh, I don’t know. It may be for the best.” She gives me a small smile.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I’m weird.”
“You’re not—”
She cuts me off. “Yes, I am. And I like being weird. Sure, my life might seem boring or lame to some, but I like it. I have my routines and my hobbies, and I don’t need a man if he’s just going to tell me I should change. And that’s been my experience in the past.”
I hate that Abby seems so skeptical when it comes to men and dating. It sounds like she’s been through a whole hell of a lot of the wrong ones. We may not have been hanging out long, but I can already tell she’s awesome. She might see herself as weird and awkward, but when she meets the right person, none of that will matter.
You’d think after what I went through with Alicia that I would be cynical as fuck. But I need to believe that eventually, I’ll find something real. It’s what makes the shitty dates worth it.
Well, that and the sex.
I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a perk.
“For what it’s worth, Abby, I think you’ll find someone great.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. You have far more of it than I do.”
She pushes a strand of her dark blonde wavy hair behind her ear as she starts on her knitting.
“What are you making?” I ask.
“A hat,” she holds up what she already has done.
“For someone with a freakishly small head?”
“It’s for a baby.”
I look her up and down. “Something you need to tell me?”
“Do I look pregnant?”
“No! I’m walking a very thin line here, aren’t I?”