Sonata in G

Why couldn't I say no? I mean, what's so hard about, "thanks, you're a swell guy, just not the one for me."

Instead I hemmed and hawed, got all mealy mouthed, and in the end, despite every feeling to the contrary, agreed to a fourth time out with Date #13.

I know, I know. I should have stopped after two. And I tried, making up a muddy excuse about why I had to cancel out on dinner plans. But when, the next day, he shared a family sadness, my 'maybe we could be friends' mode took kicked in and I suggested we meet for a movie.

I was hoping if I set up clear parameters, I'd be okay. So I gave a nod to a drink before the flick, but said that afterward I had to get right home.

And it all would have worked out fine, if only we hadn't talked so easily together - a fact, I now realize, can easily be mistaken for 'connection.' Because sure enough, at the end of the night, he asked if I wanted to go out again.

And sure enough, I said...yes.

Why, why, why? Do I secretly like him? Nope. Do I feel guilty? I don't think so. Am I one of those types for whom any company is better than being alone? Hopefully not.

No, the best I can figure is that I don't want to make him feel bad, though in the long run, my stringing him along sure isn't going to make him feel good.

Awhile back, I fell for someone whom I was absolutely positive had fallen for me. But after what I thought had been a fabulous, falling-in-love kind of weekend, he phoned to say he hadn't been thinking of me much, which was a sign to him that we should end things.

Another man I went out with a couple of times set things straight via email. "Our specific incarnation doesn't seem to be working," he wrote. "I reckon ultimately we're just too different."

Meanwhile, the guy whom my niece recently invited out, told her halfway through the night that it was a really, really, busy time for him and...my niece stopped him right there. She'd gotten the message.

Yes, there are a million ways to say goodbye and it's time to finally choose one.