I’d like to start with a birthday shout out to my beloved friend Bunny. Happy Birthday, Bunny. I love you so much, dear friend. You all know her and love her too, so stop by her place and wish her well on her birthday. And if you’ve been a follower of her weblog, you are in a state of eager anticipation for her yearly birthday post which includes a view of her lower extremities and backyard. Some years with flowers, some years with snow, some years with a baby bump, some years with Buns.
I realize it wasn’t cool to leave you hanging with regards to the date thing, so here is an update.
The brunch lasted from 10:30am to 3pm. There was an ease of conversation, lots of laughs, 2 trips to the bathroom for me, one cocktail each, and two nervous, giddy people.
He texted as soon as he got home and asked when if he could see me again.
You know I like you, I said.
It’s been a lot of butterflies in my stomach and remembering that I am a sexual being since then. Whaaa? I think that part of me has lied dormant for so many years that I assumed it had simply vanished.
I’m not 100% sure about this guy. There are no red flags and he’s a really solidly good human being. And boy, do I want to fuck him (pardon my crudeness).
But there are a few things that worry me. Can I just write them down here in an effort to organize my thoughts?
Worry #1: He smokes. I have no moral qualms about smoking, but a whole shit-ton of physiological qualms about it. It makes me nauseous. I have a strong aversion and I’m not sure I can get past it. But I like him enough to want to try.
Worry #2: He talks a whole lot, which is funny and interesting, but asks few questions about me. He does ask questions about me, but the ratio of him talking about himself and him probing into who I am as a person is about 5 to 1. Which is the same ratio that existed between Soybean and I. Notice that Soybean and I are no longer a couple.
There are more layers to worry #2.
And this is the part I am working on. I can’t keep repeating the past. I learned to silence myself as a child because it was the safest option at the time. This pattern hasn’t served me well as an adult. And so, I won’t let myself re-enact the same old story. I’m SO DONE with the same old story.
My good friend whose shoulder I sobbed on yesterday reminded me this morning that I deserve everything I need and want. And that I do not need to settle for anything less.
My friend is right. So we’ll see about Mr. Right Now.