Even just thinking about dating somebody is like that, really. You look at all these crazy/weird/cool/impractical/ridiculous/ugly/fanciful/elegant/warm/flimsy hats, and you imagine yourself wearing each one. At first cursory glance, you’re just ruling out the boring and ugly ones. But then a couple might catch your eye… Cautiously captivated, you muse over each one, probing its heft, its shape and its texture. Casually, you consider trying it on.
This is where things get kinda cool, see, because in this moment every hat begins to represent a different you: Maybe if you were a little cooler you could pull off the really stylish one. Maybe if it were ten degrees colder outside you could justify buying the really heavy one. Maybe if you were a bit younger and more ignorant you would go after that super childish hat doused in too many incompatible colors (colors that fade, at first imperceptibly, then nostalgically, undeniably, with every consecutive wash).
You try each one on and learn a little more about yourself. Of course you giggle conspicuously from time to time so the people around you realize that you’re not really considering walking any of these silly selections through the checkout aisle. Besides, you know you’re probably totally deluding yourself when you surreptitiously tuck one under your arm and tote it around the store, pretending to seek other merchandise while you decide whether this stupid hat would even be worth its price. You never really wear headgear anyway, and your resources could certainly be better spent.
You put way too much thought into it…
And then, after it all–more often than not–you conclude that your first, dismissive impulse was correct and you wasted a bunch of time entertaining the thought of a hip new you, when–to be honest–you’re really much more of a scarf person anyway.