or Why All Men Should Be Banished To Pluto

So there is a boy.
Er... WAS a boy.

Who, after making me cry (and drown myself in vodka)*, dares to call me, cheery and upbeat. I’m a dieting, PMSing, emotional mess... perhaps not fit for dating at the moment, but I give it a go anyway. I'm taking a long weekend off work for two reasons: I need a break and I want to attempt a social life (i.e. hang out with him). Now if he would just want to spend some time with me... that would just be too easy. He calls me as I'm driving home from dinner with A., as I wish he would, since I blew off hanging out with Boy #2* earlier. He leaves a sweet, perfecly phrased voice mail, we have a nice conversation (read: he says exactly what I want to hear). We decide to meet up after I stop at my house to change shoes/shirt/eye shadow which all takes me under 8 minutes. “Call me back when you’re ready, sweetie” he reminds me for the fourth time as I pull into my driveway.

30 minutes later I am sitting home, with perfectly straightened hair, liquid liner and and a shirt with fucking ruffles... oh, and $500 heels... I look perfect, and where is he? I called thrice, I even left a voice mail... I’m ME... I don’t leave voice mails (or wear ruffles, or put on heels for guys). An hour later... I’m still not getting a call back and I'm not calling him again... by now I am in feeling-rejected mode in bed with a chick flick and tissues... and right now, it’s 5AM and I haven’t heard from him yet... and you know what the sad part is, that he will have a story, an apology, an alibi, tomorrow or the day after or the day after that when he remembers to call me back or conveniently bumps into me at work and I’ll probably take it, because I always do, because I kinda like the guy... even though he tells me what I want to hear and then disappears when I wish he'd be there. God, do I wish he would just fuck some random girl, so I could write him off as a "waste of my time" and get over him... but nooo... he has to be difficult... he has to tell his friends about me...  and I hear it countless times from them: how "crazy" he is about me... which is partially proving to be true... he may be crazy... but not necessarily about me. I'm just confused. I'm lost, because this makes no fucking sense to me... because this doesn't fit "he's just not that into you"... because had he not been "into me", he wouldn't be talking about me to every person he knows, telling them about how "into me" he is... right? (in a perfectly sane world, of course)

So... I want something straight-forward...is that too much to ask?
If I want something to figure out, I have a perfectly good rubik's cube at home... and sudoku... that's enough of a freaking puzzle... if I can't seem to figure out how to communicate with a guy in however long this "it's complicated" has been going on, then perhaps I should try dating someone who speaks the same language as I do... someone who is at the very least on the same wavelength as I am... someone that understands that although I do a hell of a job at pushing people away... "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her"... OK... I had to throw that in there! lol

This is why I don't like dating.
This is why I don’t like liking people.

*Umm... yes, I cry over guys, I just usualy don't tell them about it
**Who I was almost interested in, but not really...