You know the feeling when a pretty girl smiles at you? Heart skips a beat and you think maybe against all odds you have a chance.

As I look at more houses, the realtor and I have names for some of them, particularly ones that I make an offer for. One was called the church house because besides the huge front room that looked like it could be a chapel, the previous owners actually used it for a church. Then there's the freeway house, which has an excellent view of the freeway from the back porch (and you can hear it throughout the house). The most notable one for this discussion is "The one that got away." I've meant to discuss it separately, but perhaps I'll go into more detail later. Suffice it to say that I fell in love with it and it, well, got away. Somebody outbid me. That wasn't the first or the last time I fell in love with a house and didn't get it for whatever reason.

Yesterday I fell in love with another house. There were three problems with it. The first problem is that the gutter is falling off in a couple places - doesn't look like it's rusting or anything, it just wasn't fastened properly. The second problem is that it's not quite an ideal commute - it would probably require a few miles of driving to the park and ride each day. The last problem is that I really like it.

As I realized how well it fit what I'm looking for and how great of a bargain it is, I was almost surprised how melancholy that realization made me. Many times before, I've thought that I found that perfect fit and that it was actually going to work for me this time. As much as I resisted, I admit that I fell in love. I don't want to fall in love again until I'm already in a mutual commitment. Would it be too much to ask for simple admiration until there has been some level of commitment - admiration that turns to love as time goes on?

It's like that feeling you get when you find the perfect home and have to prepare for the heartbreak of another bitter disappointment.

I made my first offer for a house on December 19th. It was a lowball offer, in a large part because while I did like the house, it had fewer rooms than what was listed. Not too surprisingly, the offer was ignored. Since then, I've made offers on 9 other houses. Several of those offers were for below listing price, but a couple were pretty much at the listing price and two or three were actually above. It's been pretty tough to get attached and then have it slip away.

I suppose that in five or ten years I'll probably look back on this and I won't even remember what other houses I looked at. I won't remember the one that got away - a beautiful house with an amazing floorplan and and absolutely awesome view out the master bedroom. I knew when I was looking at it that it would go for much more than what they listed it at. Of course I made an offer as high as I could go, but that wasn't enough. When it really matters, I guess that it never is. Caring just makes it hurt worse when nothing comes of it.

Last weekend, I submitted two offers at once - numbers nine and ten. Partially because I couldn't make up my mind which one I wanted and partially because I'm becoming jaded and cynical. One of them is off the market as of yesterday. The other one the bank that owns it is playing games, but I'm trying to focus on some of the downsides of the place (not really the most convenient location) so that I won't be too upset when it falls through in the end.

By this time, you'd think that I'd become immune to the rejection. And I generally handle it pretty well (if I do say so myself), but every time it still stings. I'm not sure what I'll be looking back on some years from now, but for now I need to stop caring so much about each prospect. There will be plenty of time to care once I've made the commitment.