I’ve gone back to the bar that I’d mentioned a few times and flirted with Pierce Brosnen the Bar Tender but I’ve decided it’s just for sport. I have no intentions of following through. Cowboy Joe (actual name, ask him, he’ll tell you that he signs cheques with that name) the old guy who often sits beside me has informed me that he has a girlfriend. I told him there ain’t nothing wrong with window shopping.
I have met someone though. He’s a friend of a friend. Met him at a party. The first time we met, he tried to go home with me. I laughed at him (kindly, lol) and we struck up a texty-texty relationship after that. Following a few more chance encounters I decided that I did want to sleep with him, and accepted his birthday invitation with the intentions of giving him birthday sex. At the party things were very flirty between the two of us, and of course it wasn’t long before ‘one thing lead to another.’ I was having some serious second thoughts about this, as I often do when my libido gets ahead of my good judgment. I wanted to stop and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to know how it was going to be different before I wandered down that yellow brick road. I told him the truth about me. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted full disclosure, maybe I wanted him to be turned off. He wasn’t, and we proceed to have incredible sex. It was very different than work sex. I had previously discussed it with my therapist (yes, of course I see a therapist!) and she suggested that maybe I wanted to do it because I wanted to have the choice. I had chosen this person, rather than me just showing up at their door. Jake (the guy, not the therapist) and I discussed it later, and as it turned out he just thought I was lying. I have no idea why he thought I would make something like that up. But he’d asked me if I was a “Safe Escort”. I’d never heard of that term, and was confused. He was convinced that I was lying because I didn’t know what it meant. “Hey! I didn’t get a handbook when I signed up for this!” I told him the next day. (I had to find out what ‘Greek’ meant the hard way, and no I don’t!) My job doesn’t seem to phase Jake, and we have been seeing each other casually since. One of the things that I like about him, is he does give me the things I don’t get from work. Sleep-overs, cuddles, play time, he’ll rub my back and smell my hair. He even gave me a mixed tape (but it doesn’t count cause it was pre-mixed) We were lying in bed the other night (early morning?) all tangled up and sweaty-like and I had the over whelming urge to tell him that I liked him. Then I laughed at myself and thought “Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t fuck this up” Don’t share to much. Don’t feel too much. I know if he gives me enough leash I will hang myself. This is the retarded part, and reason #16 why I hate dating; I have guys falling in love with me every day, and they want to take care of me, but I can not tell this boy that I like him for fear of rejection.
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