All by myself...yet again.

Before I begin this post, please allow me to set aside my "Hopeless Romantic" beret and put on my Carrie Bradshaw hat instead.

Perfect.

Now then.

Since the beginning of December, I have been talking to a really wonderful guy. This guy was a friend turned lover (or as Carrie would say- lovah!) so let's just call him Mr. FTL for the remainder of this post.

You know, as I am all for anonymity and whatnot.

Mr. FTL has always held a special place in my heart.

I met him when he started dating Rachel last February (yes- he is Rachel's ex, which is a bit scandalous, I know).

Mr. FTL can be summed up in these three adjectives: friendly, kind, and fun.

He is the sort of guy who will listen and laugh at all of your stories and jokes, even when they are (seldom, of course) not that funny.

He bounces on the balls on his feet when he is telling a story he is especially excited about.

His voice is always just brimming with brightness. With his charming accent, it's easily one of my most favorite voices in the world (in addition to President George W. Bush's and any British accent, that is).

Mr. FTL and I have always had great chemistry, and I've considered him a dear friend since we met around this time last year.

He moved back to his hometown in June, causing his and Rachel's relationship to end. Mr. FTL and I remained close though, texting occasionally and staying in touch. He would visit once every few months, and our nights out were as fun as ever.

Towards the middle of November, we began to talk more frequently, and by the time he visited in December...something besides friendship felt like it was buzzing in the air. There was a new sort of electricity between us, and it felt exciting.

I asked him to be my date for my cousin's wedding at the end of the month, and I was so happy when he said he would love to come. He drove down 3.5 hours just to spend the evening with me, and it was honestly one of the most magical nights of my life. My family and coworkers were all so impressed with his friendly and outgoing personality, and he even made a point to get out on the dance floor with all of my salon coworkers and me!

Not that he was any Patrick Swayze. But definitely Richard Gere a la Shall We Dance.

He was the perfect date, to say the least, and I knew I was totally smitten by the end of the night.

We continued talking every day after the wedding, and about one week ago, I traveled up north to visit Mr. FTL. I stayed with his family and had such a wonderful weekend. His parents, sister, and friends were all incredibly nice and welcoming towards me. I just felt like I really could be myself and fit in around all of them, and that's quite a special way to feel.

I left that weekend thinking, "Wow. Maybe my singleton days have finally come to a close! Are the wilderness years over at last?"

Eeeek. Unfortunately, it appears that I'll be roughing it out in the woods a while longer.

Last night, Mr. FTL and I were talking about planning an upcoming trip to Columbus when he informed he that he was totally busy the entire month of February...he wasn't free until the first weekend of March.

March!

And that's when I realized...maybe this all wasn't heading towards a relationship like I thought it had been.

"Oh, I see," I replied, feeling that awful sinking feeling in my stomach. "I guess I thought this was something it isn't. I feel so stupid."

"What's wrong?" he immediately responded.

I told him what was wrong. And he listened. Then, he told me how he had been doing a lot of thinking, and he didn't know if a relationship was even possible between us considering the nearly four hour distance and our busy schedules.

"If we can't even find a single weekend in a random month like February to work, how healthy of a relationship would that be? Only seeing each other once a month, if that?"

He then explained how sometimes the wrong timing and circumstances can trump compatibility and attraction.

I knew he was making valid points, but they were all entirely too reasonable and practical for me.

I'm a feeler, an English major...a girl who cries every time Jack proposes to Lucy inside the CTA tokens booth at the end of While You Were Sleeping. I've read Pride and Prejudice more times than I can count. I believe in feelings. I roll by my emotions.

"I feel how I feel when I feel it," as Lena Dunham would say.

So obviously his logical reasoning was essentially lost on me.

It was a hard realization that someone who I had come to like so much didn't even see me as worth a 3.5 hour drive.

Of course, I spent the remainder of my evening crying and wondering why I'm always so unlucky in love.

I kept picturing God up in the clouds, seated in an armchair and reading The New York Times as he suddenly took a quick intake of breath and declared, "Oh, no! It's almost Valentine's Day! Can't let Jenna actually get to enjoy the holiday of love with someone she cares about."

You know, because apparently I am doomed to spend every Valentine's Day alone with red wine and Edith Piaf.

Tonight, I will let myself "wallow" as Lorelei Gilmore would say, and I'll watch Bridget Jones's Diary and feel sorry for myself. I'll get into Rachel's stash of white chocolate, enjoy a cup of hot tea, and maybe even shed a few more tears.

The only thing I can count on in life.
(Mom- do not freak out. I am just being dramatic. No worries- I am hitting the tea kettle tonight, not the bottle)

But tomorrow, I'm putting back on my "Hopeless Romantic" beret (très chic!) and getting on with my life.

If my love life has taught me anything, it's that I am one resilient young woman.

Oh, and that I am going to have some fantastic material for all of those future novels of mine.