I met a guy last weekend, and IN MY HEAD, we’ve already been dating (and sleeping together — frequently) for a week.
So…I guess I should probably, like…SAY something to him ever.
He’s a friend of a friend. I’ve ascertained that he’s single and straight. And when I asked, my friend said she’d been hoping I would because she “thought it’d be a good match.”
Now I just need to figure out what the hell is going on in MY head to make sure I don’t end up being totally weird to a friend of a friend…again. Last time this happened, I slept with the dude way too soon, then realized we had nothing in common and ended up pulling The Fadeaway on him.
I’ve spent so much time “not being ready” that I don’t know if I AM ready, or if it’s just my vagina that’s ready, all, “SINGLE DICK AHOY!”
SO. My next therapy appointment isn’t until NEXT week, eh? Mm’kay. That…that’s fine…
I took a break from a friendship, which…you know, is a totally healthy and rational thing to need. (It IS, when you can’t seem to stop yourself from repeatedly telling your friend you want to date him, but he’s not into you and you’re just making it weird.)
I’ve spent almost 2 years since my breakup struggling to pull myself out of being all “Behind These Hazel Eyes,” and it SUCKS, so I’m trying for more of a “Since U Been Gone” situation here. (Obviously it would also be ideal if I could stop defining my love life via Kelly Clarkson songs.)
It’s incredibly difficult some days (eg, yesterday), but What Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Stronger…Shit.
Sidebar: I wonder if my hair would do that. To the curling iron!
Email to a friend: “I took my cleavage down to the cafeteria and smiled at my man-child crush who runs the register. He sold me a bottle of water, which is fitting because he makes me wet. Hopefully soon he’ll also make me thirsty.”
I get the biggest crushes on guys who work in my office cafeterias. I think it has something to do with them being bringers of snacks and coffee. My office environment downfall is hot guys near my food and caffeine. It’s like a stimulus trifecta: man; coffee; food. All things nibble-able and drinkable within a small radius.
And hey, this new guy is 8 years younger than I am, which means I AM a bawdy old lady, but I’m NOT literally old enough to be his mom. I am, however, young enough to finish him like a cheesecake.
C’mon, summer, hurry up — I work better in sundresses.