Dipping toes

I awoke last night in a cold sweat.

Actually, I awoke once many nights ago but I’ve just been too lazy to write about it. In fact, I wasn’t even in a cold sweat at the time—I just threw that in there for effect.

Like I was saying…

I awoke in a panic late last night, extremely conscious of my own singleness. After unsuccessfully racking my brain for the thoughts that concluded in my anxiety attack, I promptly shifted my focus to how I was going to remedy my situation.

And that’s when it started: I began cataloguing the list of people in my life I’ve genuinely been attracted to (at one point or another).

Now, I don’t have a really clear idea how that intellectual exercise helped me, but I’m now desperate to know from them the answer to the obvious question: “Are you married/betrothed/taken… or aren’t you?” And so, I’ve decided to take the bold step of just asking them. I intend on doing this via e-mail because that makes it all cold and impersonal, just ripe for this sort of occasion.

I think it’s going to read something like this:

Dear Admiree,

I’ve always had a bit of a crush on you, but never the guts to tell you so.

Hoping I’m not too late,
Me

Of course, there are some shady aspects to this plan. In particular:

  1. I intend on sending this same letter to about three different women.
  2. In every instance, I’d be utterly devastated if I were to find out they’ve moved-on with their lives and want to have nothing to do with me. And this is where I believe my great plan falls apart.

In any event, I think the reason I’m bringing this up here is because I want to run it by you first. Just what would you do if something like this arrived at your doorstep?