Date two was a much more enjoyable affair; a secluded pub in a local place I'd never been to before... twinkly blue lights lit up the trees, there was an awful lot of wine... some kissing.... and an absolutely brilliant non-ranty speech about the Olympics that lasted from mid-way through buying the wine, to the slow walk outside with bottles and glasses jangling, to half way through the first cig. The biggest smile spread over my face as he spoke, articulating perfectly exactly what it was all about and why he wasn't that bothered about it... fantastic. Someone way more articulate than me, happy to be anti all the hype; I really wished I'd recorded it.
And hilariously, he got way more pissed than me. I think that's almost a first.
Although I made up for it quite a bit on date three: another local, another few hundred bottles of wine, no food and quite a lot of hormones... usually the equation for an awful lot of emotional shit and about a year of insecure panicking afterwards... but it was lovely, he was lovely, he is lovely...
Predictably the kissing high, from another lovely man a few weeks ago, has evaporated, not even because of New Man above, but for all the reasons I foresaw; it's in the kiss and I think I knew even while we were kissing it wasn't going anywhere else. Because it's also in the length of time you receive a text, or an answer to your text, after the kissing. The amount of and quality of the dialogue and 'correspondence' that comes next. Not that he hasn't got a pretty good excuse, but...
And then, greedily, I spent a few drunken evenings, separately, with two platonic male friends: one I have kissed and still want to again, and another I haven't and want to. You can read anything else into 'kiss' too, I do. Raging hormones. Not really platonic at all, especially in my head.
So, lucky me. But tomorrow is a new and busy week at work with the new boss; I can't sustain such partying or passionate embraces and get anything done at work at the same time.
Date 4 is this Saturday... eeek
And hilariously, he got way more pissed than me. I think that's almost a first.
Although I made up for it quite a bit on date three: another local, another few hundred bottles of wine, no food and quite a lot of hormones... usually the equation for an awful lot of emotional shit and about a year of insecure panicking afterwards... but it was lovely, he was lovely, he is lovely...
Predictably the kissing high, from another lovely man a few weeks ago, has evaporated, not even because of New Man above, but for all the reasons I foresaw; it's in the kiss and I think I knew even while we were kissing it wasn't going anywhere else. Because it's also in the length of time you receive a text, or an answer to your text, after the kissing. The amount of and quality of the dialogue and 'correspondence' that comes next. Not that he hasn't got a pretty good excuse, but...
And then, greedily, I spent a few drunken evenings, separately, with two platonic male friends: one I have kissed and still want to again, and another I haven't and want to. You can read anything else into 'kiss' too, I do. Raging hormones. Not really platonic at all, especially in my head.
So, lucky me. But tomorrow is a new and busy week at work with the new boss; I can't sustain such partying or passionate embraces and get anything done at work at the same time.
Date 4 is this Saturday... eeek
Glad it's all going so promisingly for you!
ReplyDeleteGosh, Peach, you're blogging, and snogging!
ReplyDeleteGood for you.
Sometimes, monogamy seems impossible. I've got some female non-sexual friends and I'd just LOVE them to reach over to me one night when we're half cut and just snog me.
ReplyDelete