Death was waiting for me. He got in the car, I said 'Want to go to IHOP?' He said, 'Sure thing.'

She is sporty and hard-line attractive, speaks well, Harvard grad - and when, after a short conversation about wine, she introduces herself I am reminded again that I am wired slightly askance the norm.

'What's your name?' she says, offering a hand, 'Mike.' I respond, attempting a not too firm, but still firm enough that I obviously go to the gym all the time because those legs says she pretty obviously goes to the gym all the time handshake. 'I'm Jessica, thanks.'

And then she leaves. Doesn't buy anything.

Why do all strange women feel like opportunity? Why can't I just be cool? Why is it when I am just cool I get worried that the girl I might spend the rest of my life with walked away and I didn't do anything? Am constantly beset by the 'be cool' and 'be confidently active'...paradigm? I think that's the word.

All my language escapes me when vague connections, so tentative, are severed. Will she be back? What if I had worn a more flattering sweater? Why am I so lonely all the time? Why doesn't anyone call me on my birthday? How can I logically assume someone wants to be romantically involved with me for the rest of our lives when I don't listen, am largely selfish and am beset by all sorts of anxieties and, for all intents and purposes, have no future.

What I meant to say was
'Hi, i'm Mike, I have a ton of problems that I want to fix without working at, I build walls between myself and those closest to me because my moral standards seem at odds with what all normal people consider morals and though I talk a great game, I'm half cling, half loner. I think you're troublingly pretty, could we hang out sometime and maybe forget everything I said?'

Perhaps the saddest thing was learning that drinking didn't help things like this. You can only fix what is broken with the sun up.