He seems to be interested in a polished, big-city type of girl. I'm basically a Southern girl with a Northern accent, infinitely more comfortable in small towns.
He seems to want champagne, caviar, and the opera. I'm beer and brats and country music. Football and hockey. Though I'm not opposed to the opera.
He seems to want a girl who is thoroughly put together: Perfect hair and makeup, dressed well all the time. I pretty much live in beat-up jeans, shorts and flip flops. Low-maintenance hair, little makeup. I run, therefore I sweat. It's not really attractive. Salt forms on my face, arms, and legs. NOT put-together by any stretch.
He seems to want someone who is "on" all the time. Sometimes I just want to BE. I don't have a zillion fascinating stories to tell you and your friends. A lot of war stories from my marriage, sure. But who wants to hear those? Running or race stories? Probably would bore people to death. Court reporting, books, dysfunctional families. These are the things I know best.
In the entire time I've known him, though he's flirted with me relentlessly, he hasn't really asked me any questions about myself, and so really knows very little about me. It's a shame; he's missing out.
I can only surmise that he's not really interested, and he's merely a flirt. Which is fine. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. I'm not the right girl anyway. So when I see him from now on, I'll smile at his flirty little comments, and know in the back of my mind that there's someone pretty cool out there somewhere looking for beer and brats and hockey.
Probably in Nashville or Charlotte :)