Ladies, back off!

So I’ve had a lot to think about lately with regards to me and women. In only a short time I have contacted a woman who, as it turns out, was much more interested in me (The Clinger) than I was in her, as well as having been contacted by a woman who I think I am much more interested in (The Thower) than she is me. It’s a funny situation. I’m trying very hard to take everything I thought and felt toward The Clinger and projecting it from The Thrower’s point of view. My hope is that this approach will keep me from making the same mistakes (appearing clingy, saying too much too soon, and becoming too attached, etc.) with The Thrower.
The thing is, TT is different than any woman I have ever dated. First of all, she contacted me! Okay, okay, now that you’ve had a chance to stop the giggles and wipe away the tears of laughter, it’s true! Something which I thought was only a myth of Mormondom really happened. It was like Christmas, only without the carrot jell-o, funeral potatoes, and grandma’s wet kisses which she insisted had to be on the kisser to the point she would grab your face, force a pucker and place more saliva on your lips than had been there through all 4 courses of the recent Thanksgiving meal. It was heaven!
Oh, “Sure,” you say, “I’ve had a Mormon girl volunteer her number to me.” Listen here Mr. “I haven’t stopped handshaking every single person I see in or around the church building since my mission 15 years ago,” this woman ain’t your sweet spirit, kind hearted, Mormon housewife; she’s HOT! Indeed, she is WAY out of my league. Don’t get me wrong, by saying this I by no means want to seem insecure about myself. I am very comfortable with who I am. I’m a decent looking, middle-aged, average height, average weight, mixed blood American male. I’m unique! I’m a good guy, I know how to treat a woman, and after 4 years on and then being abruptly taken off of the marriage cafeteria plan, I can now take care of myself to a level that doesn’t smell like old garbage or look like John Daly. But I also have to be real and accept that there is a certain class of woman who is simply not interested in what I have to offer. TT, by all appearances, in that class.
Whenever I’ve spent any substantial time, asking why and how, I’ve ended up in a slobbering, drool laden, slurred speech daze that looks very similar to the look of your average massive stroke survivor. It is a mystery that even the Harty Boys couldn’t solve (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EA0ziLh7y78). Contrary to logic, I even went out on a limb and asked her what she sees in me. She dictated almost exactly what I am and said, “I’m good for her right now.”
This sentence, though short, is both euphoric and tragic. The first part, “I’m good for her,” I couldn’t agree with more! I’m good for ANY woman who has the patience and desire to care for me. I take care of the women in my life. I’ve found that I am happier when this is the case, so I just do it, no questions asked! Call me selfish…
The second part is devastatingly problematic; “right now”. The suppressed paranoia within me bubbles to the surface and screams, “SHE’S GOING TO END IT!!!” But, once I am able to distract this beast with some information I picked up outside the JFK Memorial in Dallas, TX, I have to acknowledge, it may have a valid point. I’m forced, then, to make a decision. Continue on, knowing that one day after “right now” has ended, I will be popping Lexipro like Rush Limbaugh eats Lortab and spending thousands of dollars in counseling trying to answer the question of why I’m so average, or to pretend the comment was never made and press forward, possibly walking blindly to a fiery pit of hell! FML!