That guy? You know, Gord? The Santa? The one I’ve been mooning over since I met him in April last year? The one I won’t stop talking about? The man of my dreams??? Yeah. We have sex now. And it is goooood. Good.
Yes, he’s still with his girlfriend. I don’t know. It’s none of my business. If we were dating I wouldn’t know what he was doing when he wasn’t with me, just like now. Not my business, not a problem. At this point. We’re still in let’s see mode. Trial. Test phase. R &D, you dig?
I love him like crazy but I only love him as much as I know him. I don’t know who he is when I’m not around. I kind of know who he is but I mean in a relationship. He keeps saying that he’s terrible at relationships and maybe he’s right. Maybe this is a thing he does. Maybe worse. We’ll see. I promised myself I would start listening to the men I’m with and I am listening. It’s just harder to hear when I’m dropping my panties and climbing all over him every time I see him. We’ll see.
I guess it’s still cheating. Is it? He is. But let’s be realistic – you don’t end everything you have because you think you might have feelings for someone else. Okay, I know it’s cheating. And I completely believe if he does it to her he could do it to me. I’m watching, I’m waiting to see how far he will go with this. But let me tell you something: if we get together and he finds someone he might love even more than how much he’s going to love me? I give him full permission to explore those feelings because they will be beyond spectacular. And in that he’ll either learn to love me more, or he’ll open my life to someone who will.
We are getting to know each other here, we are both students of life and we are learning. We have conversations about who we are and how we want to be treated. What we want to feel and be and do. He subconsciously (or consciously) quizzes me sometimes. And I quiz him. We touch and kiss. We smell each other. No, we inhale each other. We taste, we bend, and squeeze, and shake, and things are good. Even our sex tastes good together. It’s crazy. So wonderful.
I’m in a constant state of I can’t wait to see him again but try to keep the asking to a minimum. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, yes? I am giving everything I have to give (including and probably most importantly, patience). I’m ready to believe again (in the long term, of course… no rush… no rush). And I can’t tell anyone about it. I don’t want to tell anyone about it. But I SOOOOOO want to tell someone about it. I guess I tell him. lol (And you, whomever you might be. Thanks for reading.)
Monday night, babies! A date! Not, like, 9pm sex. Like, after work. He’s picking me up. Like a date. And we’re going to go to the library and he’s going to pay for a replacement card for me because he’s a gentleman. Also making fun of me a little bit, which is even better. And we’re going to spend the whole evening together, we’re going to pick out a movie and we will watch it on my new couch and everything in the world will be wonderful, for three or four hours. (lol… best case scenarios are my favourite!)
Can’t you hear the warnings? My mother telling me to be careful, please god. Dad, telling me to not jump, is he jumping because you can’t jump if he doesn’t jump. My older sister warning me to protect myself in case of collision. Little sister bear insisting that he’s not allowed to be with someone else when her sister likes him.
I pay them no heed.
Not to worry, my loves. This man is an analyzer. He will be slow and methodical, considering every angle, every possible outcome. And I will let him. Then one rainy afternoon I’ll dare him to be with me and let us both give it all we’ve got.
And we will