leftover fireworks

Kids down the street are still setting off loud, obnoxious, fire-spewing noise-makers. I assume they are kids, which is in their best interest. I can't hit kids. It has been 3 days since the 4th of July. Two questions: 1) Why aren't they done with their fireworks yet? It's been 3 days! 2) Why do I assume they have to use up all their fun in one day? These kids might just be on to something.
I'm not though, so it pisses me off. I'm a user. I use everything up until I'm done with it. Immediately. Unless it- whatever it may be- decides to walk away before I'm finished, it's getting used up. This generally applies to ice cream, beer, boys, and money. Most of these don't go before I'm done. The ones that do, well, who am I kidding? If you're reading this, you know what happens to those that leave before I finish with them. They stick around. I don't let them go. They haunt my dreams and show up during the day. They appear at my neighborhood bar and know people in my classes. They walk by at the mall and their names show up in interviews.
If I don't use up all the spark I can get to, it keeps sparking. I'm not up for fire burns. I'm not in the mood to deal with injuries again. I would rather use up all the damn fireworks when they're called for, so I can move on. Give myself another year before I have to step into that death trap again.
But I've still spent a year burning myself on sparklers... I have very little room to complain.
I just keep lighting them.
L

scare easy

I'm not sure how well the arranged marriage will work out. I may not be built right for it. I require an initial spark. I crave those damn butterflies. If they aren't there, I get bored faster than a 4 year old watching Citizen Kane. And that pretty much sums up what has become of my arranged marriage. Not a butterfly in the place. Not even a caterpillar.
Or, at least, not that I can see. He, on the other hand, is in some fairy tale land akin to the butterfly garden at Marine World. He tells me, he tells his friends. He's been struck by a spark I didn't ever see. And he's very clear on that! And me? I scare easy. This is me running. I don't want to be mean, I don't want to be a heartbreaker, but it is situations like this one that give me that reputation. I have spent a total of 3 hours with this person, and he's already shouting from the rooftops. If he'd shut up long enough to watch me react to the screaming, he'd have saved us both a lot of trouble. As it is, though, I have to have an awkward conversation with an unsuspecting, innocent guy, who meant no harm. Suddenly I'm the bitch again. I'm the bitch just because I don't feel it. I'm not even giving him a name here. He's my failed attempt at an arranged marriage. He will be a reminder that I am a hopeless romantic, and I require love from the start.
Tonight I will have the awkward conversation. It will be a long, awkward, uncomfortable night. I will learn my lesson.
I hope I learn my lesson. I hate this conversation.
L

safety vs the spark

Is there possibility for a relationship to last if there is no real honeymoon period? I don't think so, but I'm open to opinions. Here's a scenario to get you thinking:

B is a nice guy. Sweet, good looking, friendly, intelligent, funny, optimistic, and to top it all off, he treats me well. Where's the downside? On paper, this guy is perfect. He is well adjusted and easy to get along with. My friends like him. His friends like me. Downside? The downside is that I can describe him, his personality, his interactions with me and my friends, and all with a completely steady hand, steady heart, and without having to fight back a smile. There are no butterflies. There is no spark. We are already coexisting as if we'd been together for months.

So the question, again: can this last? And even if yes, is it worth it? I don't think so, but I'm too frightened to be sure.

Thinking of C still gives my heart a rush. When I see C in my dreams I wake up with a smile. Even the simplest text from C gives me a shot of adrenaline. A text from B makes me smile, but in the same way a text from a friend does- I am happy to know someone is thinking of me. A text from C puts my mind at ease.

Perhaps I'm setting impossible standards. Perhaps no guy, no matter how perfect, can really ever make my heart race as long as I have such a susceptibility to the virus C's carrying.

So: 1. succumb to safety, give up on the spark and butterflies and the rush of the honeymoon-happy-period? or 2. forget safety- keep tripping, falling, breaking down piece by piece in hopes that the spark appears again to light my way?

I wonder what's behind door #3.

L