He called me a bitch. Sort of.

I went on (yet another) Tinderdate last week. He’d been nice to chat to, but a day before our date, confessed to me he was still living with his ex, and asked if that put me off. I told him that it depended on the situation, but for now, no. To be honest, normally that would definitely put me off, but I told myself that it would only be an issue if I ended up liking him. And, given my track record, that’s what probably would not happen.

He came, through the storm, and we went for a drink. Immediately when he walked into the bar, I knew. Nah. I wouldn’t be interested. He looked a bit older than his pictures, was bald (though I should have known since he wore hats in all of his pictures) and while he looked friendly in those pictures, I found him to be quite harsh. He had strong opinions about everything. His job. The people in it, people around him. He asked me loads of questions, I in return, did not ask him about his ex. He wasn’t interesting to me and I knew I wasn’t going to see him again, so there was no point in collecting that sort of information.

Somehow we got to talk about differences between men and women, how they fight, and then he asked me if I was one of ‘those unreasonable women’. I sure am. ‘So you’re kind of a bitch then?’ I think my eyebrows touched my hairline, and he knew he’d gone too far as he physically moved back a few inches. In all fairness, if it comes with a good joke I wouldn’t mind much, but he was dead serious. Not cool.

I ended it shortly after, using the getting up early for work excuse, and saw him off. And deleted him shortly after.

So, another unsuccessful date. I have to admit I’m getting a little tired of the dating. I like meeting new people, I don’t mind spending money on a drink here and there, but at the same time it is discouraging. At the moment, I’ve got nothing in the pipeline, and that’s ok. It’s a scary thing to admit, because I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone for thirty one years (give or take a few short lasted flings) and I don’t want to die alone. But all of my effort is not paying off.

It always makes me think of my (in my mind) almost fifty year old flute teacher when I was twelve. She was probably a lot younger. But, she was single, and lived alone. In my twelve year old mind, that was a horrible, sad, lonely thing. And to this day, I tell myself I don’t want to be like her. But I’m getting there, and that freaks me out.

New dawn, new year

And so here we have it; another year spent single went by. So so many dates have come and gone I can’t even keep track. None of them have stuck. Well, for the long run that is. I’ve met a few men that rocked my world for a little while, but nothing lasted. There’s been quite a few fellow bloggers that got engaged or even married, and in real life people are finding their soul mates left and right. Dating has never been easier with apps like Tinder, and yet, after a year of full on dating, I haven’t managed to find someone. As I told someone else earlier this week; I am the only constant. There were men that were into me, I believe that I could have been settled by now and yet, I refuse anything less than a hundred percent. Maybe by the end of this year I’ll look at it differently, maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

But enough of that; here is the yearly list:

Number of weddings attended: one (my younger brother)

Number of funerals attended: none

Number of babies born: one (I’m an aunt!)

Number of dates I went on: countless

Number of sex partners I had: six

As for the regular updates; I went on a second date with the guy I saw the day before New Year’s Eve. When I texted him to ask if he was interested, he jumped on it and wanted to see me the next day. That wasn’t gonna happen, so we settled on Sunday. After a lot of back and forth, I went to his place. I had proposed drinks, but all of a sudden he wanted a day date, wanted to come to my town but after I told him there’s nothing here on a Sunday, he said he had to be back home by nine anyway, and he just wanted to spend an afternoon cocooning. Alright then. I decided to go to his instead, for some reason I did not want him in my house yet. So off I went through the storm. When I got to his place he greeted me with a kiss, made me tea and made small talk. Like last time, he was very calm and quiet. I was a little disappointed, I’d hoped he’d be a bit more alive. We  hung around on the couch for a bit, made out and he quickly wanted to move things to the bedroom. Literally within twenty minutes of me getting there. While I’m happy to report the sex was a bit better, he still didn’t last very long. We got naked pretty quickly, and before I’d even touched him he provided me with an orgasm with his fingers. I could tell he was ready to go but I wasn’t gonna have another super speedy session. But when I went down on him, I literally bobbed up and down twice, maybe thrice before he told me to stop or he would come. I obliged, stalled him a little longer, but then he made an attempt to go for it without condom. That wasn’t happening. He got the message, found one, and did me in missionary until he came, which didn’t take very long and happened in silence. It wasn’t weird, or particularly bad, but I like my men a bit more active, a little less vanilla and to last a bit longer. I don’t know if he takes a long time getting used to someone, or if this is as good as it gets.

He went to prepare dinner, and I took a long time dressing. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt. Yes I knew what he’d wanted, but it was the first time I didn’t really feel good about it. Was this really what I wanted? When I got myself together he was cooking, and I finished my tea, which was (mind you) still warm. Lukewarm, but still. He didn’t say much. I didn’t say much. It wasn’t terribly awkward, it was more a calm, serene thing and he might be the type that doesn’t mind sharing his personal space. It was like we’d been married for ten years. And so we had dinner, I helped him pick up a lamp for his bedroom, and he wanted to watch a movie, some action flick I wasn’t really interested in, but okay. I wondered if I should leave. I didn’t. I waited until the end. We had a glass of wine, and he still wasn’t very talkative. I’ve never had such a weird date. He’s attractive, has his shit together, I’m sure he’s got plenty stuff to talk about, but whenever we talked, his answers weren’t very elaborate, and not getting anything in return, you kind of give up. I finished my wine and told him I was gonna go. He saw me out with a kiss, and I left pretty abruptly. On my way home I couldn’t help myself but text him I hoped for his travel buddies he was gonna be a bit more talkative, or if he reserved that just for me. He texted back the next day saying sorry, he had been tired, and had had a really good time. Really? doesn’t take a lot more than sex I guess. He’s gone on a skiing trip now, and I hope he gets over that fatigue of him. Weird shit.

On New Year’s eve, I went clubbing with a few girlfriends. Nothing interesting there, but I did receive a few texts from the poker player. During the day where he wanted to say happy new year and we had a little catch up, and then he texted me in the middle of the night, calling me hot stuff and all. Kinda made my night, how pathetic.

Also, Couch guy asked to go on a second date. I told him I’d be busy for a few weeks and would have to let him know. Really don’t know about him, and I’d say I’ve had my fair share of weirdness.

I’ve got a few more dates lined up this week and so help me God I am telling myself sex is not an option. Though, the fact I closed and started the year sex wise with the same guy, should hopefully be a good omen. Or something.

He postponed his flight

So I’ve taken a while to give you an update on the poker player I’ve had such a fantastic first date with. In a way I was hoping to write something conclusive. But; off we go.

When he texted me the day after our date, I took it as a sign of interest, and I was quite pleased. The next few days we went back and forth and I quite quickly asked him if he wanted to go out again before he’d go home. I was under the impression he’d leave pretty soon, so I felt like I had to act pretty quickly. He said yes, he’d like to see mee again, but that he would have to let me know. He was in a tournament he didn’t know how long would last, and he’d have to visit friends and family. All valid reasons. We kept in touch, his tournament ended after four days (or; he bombed), he went off to see his family, and things went quiet for a bit.

I messaged him a few days later, to which he replied saying he had been thinking about me. I might have blushed. But then we somehow steered back to Tinder, and he told me he had two more dates lined up this week. Thank God I wasn’t ignorant enough to confirm with him that I was one, though I did think that for a few moments. It stung a little. After his first date that week, he messaged me that he liked me better. I asked him if he was going to have time left to see mee. And I got ‘I think I have unconsciously been delaying going home because I want to see you again.’ I melted. We settled on a dinner date for Saturday.

He came to pick me up from the train station again, gave me a kiss, and off we went. Before dinner, we went to have a drink first. It was easy, simple and just like last time. I was happy to be with him, and it was so comfortable I wondered if this was what it should always supposed to be like. He was hungry for steak and so we went to a tiny little restaurant. He took my hands across the table to warm them. I had been meaning to ask him things. Like why he was dating in a country he wasn’t in most of the time. Or if I should attach any meaning to the fact he had been delaying his flight for me. Because of some of the things he’d said while texting I wanted to find out if there was some sort of interest there. But before we got there, the check came and the moment was gone. We did get to me telling him nine out of ten times I would go home at the end of the date. Not necessarily true, but I pointed out I had to like someone in order to do that. He said he liked that. And then we had to leave. A missed opportunity on my end, but at the same time I had to keep reminding myself this was only date two. In real life, you don’t have those conversations at that point.

Out on the street, he grabbed my hand, pulled me in and kissed me. A tourist passed by and told us to get a room, making us laugh. We decided to go back to the same neighborhood we went to last time, even though it was a bit far away. So off we went, hand in hand like a regular couple on the lookout for cozy cafe’s. We found one, sat close together and talked. After two drinks, we left and repeated somewhere else. Every now and then we’d stop and make out a little. Shortly after midnight he wrapped his arm around me, said he knew a great place, namely his house, and off we went.

We shared a cup of tea to warm up, which of course quickly led to a making out and undressing session in front of the windows. He tried to carry me to the bedroom but gave up when he hit his head on the lamp. He dropped an ‘is this all for me?’ again, which makes me think he either says that to everyone, or he was genuinely happy. Anyway, the sex was good, he’s seriously packing, but I don’t think he realizes. We fell asleep afterwards, perfectly content.

Previously, he’d already told me we’d have to get up early as the house owner would be coming home and he didn’t really like visitors. I’d been hoping this person would change their mind, or poker player would forget, but unfortunately no. However, he’d been keeping an eye on it to make sure there’d be time for sex left. It was lazy, slow morning sex, in which his orgasm was perfectly timed with the alarm clock. We laid there for a while while his fingers were running up and down my back. I couldn’t help myself and told him it was a shame he’d have to go back, to which he didn’t really respond. That took away any courage I had about asking him when he’d be back.

We had a quick breakfast together, after which I left at about nine thirty. The goodbye was like last time, with a kiss and a bye. That night, I texted him I’d had a great time, enjoyed seeing him again and that it was a bummer he was leaving. (After we’d set our date, he’d bought his ticket for the day after). He said ‘Yeah it was! But all good things come to an end.’ I stared at it for a while. Really? I asked if I should be taking that literally. No, he didn’t mean it like that, but he did have to do some thinking when it came to women. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Fair enough. Knowing he just came out of a relationship, would be moving out of their shared house once he got back and considering we’d only had two dates, what was there for claim for me?

I wished him a safe journey, best of luck moving and all, and told him to keep  on touch. And when he made his way back over here and had done some thinking, who knew? It sounded like a good plan to him.

I won’t lie and say I shed a tear. Dating for me never comes easy in the sense that either I don’t like them, or I do like them and they’re not into me, but that’s usually clear from the beginning and I’m not in the dark. This time, I’m very into him, and there is no denying there was mutual chemistry. There was. I know it, and not only because he told me, and not only because of that postponed flight. There was something there. And maybe the timing wasn’t right. Maybe he does need to do some soul searching. Maybe I’ve confused him and he wasn’t expecting this. Maybe none of this all and I’ve fallen for it, hard.

There is something about this man that makes me feel completely at ease. I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it’s scary. Not in the least because ever since he got back, I didn’t hear from him. So last night, I sent him a message. Told him the city was a bit less exciting, and hoped he’d get the sunny Christmas he wanted. He replied almost immediately. That yes, that had been a good time. Insert smiley heart emoticon. Then sent me a photo of his dad who was helping him move and gave me an update on how the move was going with pictures.

If anything I might be back in his mind, and when the dust settles in his end we’ll see what happens. I’ll send him a reminder of my existence every now and then. Had he lived here, the situation would have been different and easier. We’d continue dating and just see what’d happen. Because he lives relatively far away, that’t not an option. It made me feel like I had to force something, because what sane man would hang on to two dates? What is there to explore through whatsapp? You can’t build anything this way. That makes me anxious.

I thought I would take a bit of a break from the dating thing, which is what I usually do when someone managed to confuse me. I am not going to put all my money on poker player, reality is that the chance anything is going to happen there are slim. But the door isn’t shut. Not yet.

He sang to me.

I am blown away. Yup, you read it, a man has managed to blow me away.

Let’s call him the poker player. We matched on Tinder last Friday, which I was super happy about, because he’s hot. I sent him a short ‘yay!’ message, and we chatted for a bit that night. Then on Saturday afternoon, he asked if I wanted to come over and drink wine in a nice cafe. I wanted to. But I already had another date with a guy from OKC set up. He told me to cancel, because he was much more fun. I told him I’d need a really good reason, because that’d be awful for my karma. He said he’d love to stare into my eyes over wine and have a wander through the dark city. And I thought; ‘what the hell.’ So I cancelled my date, and agreed to meet him.

He came to meet me at the train station, and when I saw him, I got even more excited. I think he felt the same, he grabbed me, planted three kisses on me, and off we went. We went to a tiny little cafe, and never stopped talking until two in the morning. He’s a professional poker player, and does so well he doesn’t live in this country but on a sunny island somewhere (not too far) for tax purposes, though he’s here often. We connected on so many things, yoga, meditation, our views on life and relationship. He radiated such calm and was so down to earth I never wanted to leave.

The only thing, and I knew this since I had looked him up, is that he’s barely out of a long relationship. He’s been together (engaged even) for nine years, and only split six weeks ago. I also saw the message on Facebook, in which he said there were no fights, it was a mutual decision that after so many years they had to face the fact they were not meant to be. They’d always be friends and all that. Very mature. When he talked about it that evening, he was very mature and calm about it. Nine years is a long time, though that kind of decision isn’t usually made overnight. Before meeting, he had told me he was dating, and whatever happened, happened, but he might be rebounding for all I know. That’d make the most sense.

I am tempted to believe him, there was something different about him. Anyway, when one o’clock rolled around and he wanted to go get another drink I told him that I would love to stay, but that if he didn’t feel like being responsible for a place to stay for me, I would have to think about my trains home. He wanted me to stay. A little voice in the back of my mind told me that maybe I should go home if I liked him, I might get hurt, but as usual, I ignored it.

We finished our drink, and off we went. We walked to his friend’s place, where he stays, and he stopped me on a bridge to kiss me. There we were, in the middle of the night, kissing on a bridge. It was awesome. When we got into the apartment building, he noticed there was a roof terrace. We got a bottle of wine from the house, some cheese, and went back up. We drank wine, had some cheese, he sang to me. We kissed some more. At one point, he just looked at me and said ‘is this all for me?’ Very smooth. At one point, he mentioned that this town seemed like a much better place to be, all of a sudden.

Once inside, we sat on the couch, he put music on, and started making out. Obviously that pretty quickly turned into lots of nakedness. And good, good sex. He was hung, and circumcised (which is rare here). After that, we moved into his bedroom, cuddled, talked some more and after a while, he was ready again. By the time we went to sleep, it was five in the morning. But when I had to get up to go to the bedroom a little later, I noticed I had bled a little on the sheets. Fuck. I had just come off my period, so that wasn’t it. This was the second time this happened. Once I discovered that, I lay there stressing out for a good hour. Was I going to tell him? Was I not and be surprised when we saw it? Was I gonna bleed more? Should I sleep on my back? And, how would he react?

Eventually, I did fall asleep, and we slept until noon. Nothing happened. He woke me up massaging my back. Seriously. One thing led to another, and we had slow morning sex. Once he pulled back the sheets, he saw the stain, saw my face (I was still mortified), shrugged and said ‘we made a mess’. And proceeded to make out. After he came, we laid there forever. He said he’d come so good and was so relaxed he was tingling and seeing purple stars. We stayed in bed, I was on his chest, and he’d kiss my hair every now and then.

When we did get up, he made us breakfast, we ate it half naked and it wasn’t awkward at all. He put his sheets in the washing machine, set up his computers to work later, and we left the house together. I was going home, he was going to get groceries. So we had to say goodbye on the corner of the street. He gave me three kisses on the cheek, a peck on the lips, said ‘great date’, and then ‘bye.’ and turned around and left. I was a little taken aback by the abruptness of it. No ‘see you next time’, or ‘we’ll be in touch.’ I went home wondering if he was just very good at the game, if I looked differently in daylight, or if he just doesn’t do goodbyes.

Once home, I contemplated a plan of attack. I wouldn’t text him yet, I would give him time. I don’t think that after a serious relationship like he had, he wants to be crowded by someone wanting all sorts of things from him after a first date. So I talked it over with my friend, and went to bed, feeling a little weird about it. The goodbye was in such contrast to the date, and rather anticlimactic.

But when I woke up this morning, I woke up to a message from him. A nice one, too. He nicknamed me, said he had had a great date, then some about his Sunday, and a have a good workweek for me, ending with an x. We went back and forth a bit, I asked if the sheet got clean (it did) and that’s it for now. I don’t want to be on his case, I want to give him space. At the same time, I think he goes back to his island home some time next week, so I do plan on asking him to see if he’d like to meet up again before he goes.

The distance thing doesn’t bother me, but the relationship is a bit tricky. He is most likely not ready for anything at all. And here I am, feeling like this after only one date, and that never happens. It’s very likely I am going to get hurt. We will see how this goes; I am trying to manage my expectations and hope, though I really, really like this one.

Rejection

The more rejections I receive, the more they seem to get to me lately. That Tinder guy I’d been chatting to for a few nights and was supposed to have a dinner/drinks date with today? The one I thought could finally be a normal date that I deserved? Well, I’m home, writing this, so that didn’t happen. I received a text message in the middle of the night saying ‘I’m going to be a total dick but need to be honest. Going home with someone so it doesn’t feel right to see you.‘ Well fuck me. Got rejected even before meeting. I replied that indeed he was a dick and happy fucking. It’s not that I care if he fucks someone at all, but if you’ve got a ‘project’ that you’re working on, you shouldn’t be on Tinder, let alone making actual agreements to date. I get so tired of this whole dating thing that is leading nowhere.

The fact that his rejection came while I was having drinks with the Stud also didn’t help. I had been looking forward to today’s date, even if only it made me feel adequate that I could do what he did. I needed to have something to look forward to.

So yeah, the Stud came to see me. True to form, he was late. I went to pick him up from the train station and we went to my regular bar. It didn’t take long for him to bring up his lady-friend. He told me he had almost lost his friendship with the other chick he’d been seeing over it, as she couldn’t handle the change in their relationship. She’d been ready to call the whole thing off, he wouldn’t let her. I told him I didn’t feel like he was doing the same for me. I told him I was really not cool with the way he told me by text messaging. I told him that because he chose to do it that way it put things in a new light for me. He didn’t care enough. He was a little taken aback, and said he hadn’t even realized that it would have some sort of impact and how it came across. No shit Sherlock. He then said there was another friend he’d had to tell, that he’d been friends with benefits with before me. They haven’t slept with each other in a year, but when he told her she was heart broken. It had really surprised him and while he understood, he also felt that he had been clear with her the whole time. I told him I was somewhere in the middle. I wasn’t heart broken, but I did take a good look at myself and my reaction that night. And yes, it had also crossed my mind that I wasn’t good enough. And that I wasn’t sure if we were friends. And then, I mentally shut the door. I didn’t care anymore. If we were friends, fine. He doesn’t like me that way and there is nothing I can do to change it. He told me some stuff he’s never told anyone, I told him about my fuck up with the ex last week, and it was all good. We now have stuff on each other I guess.

They’ve already talked about exclusivity, he’s met her child, he’s shown me her photo, and I kind of laughed at myself. If anything, I had been leading myself on. What’s left to do is redefine our friendship. We didn’t really talk about it, and I kind of wished we did, because I still don’t know what kind of friend he thinks I am, but well. I am off to China next weekend and decided that if nothing happens with anyone by then, I am deleting all my profiles. Dating (and the inevitable rejections) is making me harsh and bitter and it isn’t pretty.

The Talk

I had simmered down a bit from my anger preceding my date with the Stud last Wednesday, not in the least because I had a lot of time to think, and also because I have sane friends.

The first one told me I couldn’t murder him for being honest with me. Fair point. I’ve talked about this before, but my issue (one of them) is that I don’t talk. I won’t tell men anything about my feelings, thoughts or anything deeper until I know it is worth the investment. This particular friend also pointed out calling it an investment is ridiculous. How else are they supposed to get to know me when I won’t let them? How can I blame them for walking away when I’m not giving anything? And especially because I knew the Stud’s intentions, I haven’t been very open, which (in my mind) means that I don’t have a right to anything.

The second one said ‘fuck this other chick’. The only question I needed an answer to is what does he want? And there’s three options; does he want a platonic friendship, friends with benefits, or does he see a relationship? Nothing else concerns me. I needed to think about whether I would be ok with whatever answer I would get. And if I would be; it means acceptance, because my eyes are wide open.

So, I had calmed down a bit. Though when I texted him on Tuesday what the plan was, he told me he could meet after nine, where he had told me earlier before. I told him that was quite late considering it was a weeknight, and also that he had told me he’d be available earlier. He said I was right, and cancelled his appointment. Then asked if I wanted to go to dinner together. Yes, I did.

And so we met at his house. He came straight from his rowing training, changed his clothes, and off we went to a Spanish restaurant. The weather was fabulous, we sat outside and before we knew it, had downed a bottle of wine. Things went as usual. We talked for hours, he told me loads of stuff, I did less so. He mentioned a few dates he’d been on, the one chick he stayed over with. I told him about mine. He said I was an exception to the rule when it came to casual dating. I didn’t say anything. We went to the next bar, had another glass, and then went back to his place when it hit one in the morning. Good thing I had taken the next day off.

And then as we were about to get to bed, I got my period. I’d felt it coming all day so wasn’t too surprised, but wasn’t quite sure how he’d take it. He just smiled, said it was a bummer, but oh well. Nothing I could do. We got into bed, made out for a little bit, talked, and then I sucked it up and asked whether we should talk about it, and asked him what he did with the woman he spent four days with the weekend prior. He told me he didn’t, he went home on Monday, and they’d had sex once. She wants to get back with her ex. He doesn’t want to impose.

What about me? He thinks I am beautiful, great and he likes me, but he likes things the way they are now. He still just doesn’t want any relationships. He wants to keep me around, he genuinely feels that we are friends. And if I don’t want to do it his way, I need to tell him and he will adjust. I told him for now I am ok with what he wants, but that I don’t need to know about anyone else he sees. That I need him to be clear at all times. He said that if either one of our feelings change, we need to talk about it.

He is worried about where I stand. And he should be. I’m a girl, after all. It’s up to me now. I realized there’s no point in anger, this is all about me, not him. It doesn’t matter if he continues to see that other woman. What matters is me, how I feel about the situation and to which level I want to take this. I’m not in love with him, yet. And I’d like it to stay that way, but I give it three months before I’d have to tell him I am scared of falling in love with him and getting hurt. Because that’s how it’ll go. I’m just a girl. Until then, I will just see how it goes.

Did I tell him that last paragraph? Of course not. So, I decided I need to work on these things, and he’ll be my guinea pig. I need to be more open, say what I really feel, and not be afraid to say what I want. Because that might be what is keeping me from being in an actual relationship.

We went to sleep, and woke up at ten. We just cuddled and kissed for the next hour or so, and eventually got up. He made breakfast, cooked eggs, talked some more and just took it easy. He dropped me off at the trains later, and off I went to lounge around in the sunshine. I felt kind of bad about the whole period thing. If we’re friends with benefits he kind of wasted a night with me, but I shoved the thought aside.

So that’s the story! I texted him on Friday after a couple of family visits that had not gone so well and he asked if I needed a shoulder to cry on. His intentions are good.

The whole thing’s got me thinking about my (non)relationships. I don’t want to be alone, in with that, I need to be careful not to hang on to something for too long that’s not going to work. I have never been told ‘I love you’ by a man, however sad that is. And in my quest to find something like it, I sometimes go a little overboard. (I signed up for a paid dating site today) And I date and date, yet I don’t really put myself out there. After all, who likes getting hurt?

He brought his dog

Last Friday I went on a date with the Tinder guy with a houseboat. He came to my town, which is always a plus. When I was waiting for him, I saw a guy come out of the parking garage, but doubting if it was him. Who would bring a dog to a date? Well, he did. He came straight off a boat he had a job on, working boots, torn shirt, and paint all over himself, his beard and his clothes. Eh… ok. I’m not judging. We went to my local bar, and sat outside. It was a little awkward at first. He was very relaxed, of the kind that doesn’t need conversation to have a good time. I kinda do. We talked a bit, silence. Talked a bit, silence. And I decided to not try so hard. He was on this date also. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, but told me bits and pieces about himself. I like the whole hippie thing, but he was on the other end of my universe. He lives on whatever boat he works on at the moment, does not own anything except for his car and dog, plans on sailing the world one day, gets bored if he makes too much money, so whatever he earns goes into his own boat. He squats in an abandoned school to have an address, has been married and ran a coffee joint in a windmill he owned with his ex-wife. I mean, wow. He seriously doesn’t give a fuck about anything. We called it a night after three drinks, I took him back to his car, got a big hug, and off he went. The next day, he messaged me on Tinder (while he has my number) asking if I had seen him to anything with his phone, because he lost it. I hope he’s not insinuating I took it.

Just a couple nights before that I went to dinner with a friend of mine. After several rounds of sushi, she was up to date about the situation with the Stud, and we decided to go for drinks. We went to this totally laid back bar by the water, where you sit in the grass or share your pick nick table with strangers, and get your own drinks. While my friend got the first round, two guys asked if they could join us. Absolutely. We ended up talking to them the whole night. My friend, who is engaged and has a child, hit it off with the guy with a girlfriend and a huge want for kids, so I was left talking to the most attractive, single one. By the time we looked at our watches, my friend freaked out as she’d missed the last bus and had no idea how to get to her car she’d parked way out of town. The guys very nicely offered to give us a ride. So her new friend went to drop her off at her car, and the other gave me a ride on the back of his bike to the train station. When he asked for my full name to look for me on Facebook, I figured it was save enough to ask for his number. By the time I was on the train, he had already found me, and so I sent him a message in return. Turns out he’s coming to my town on Friday, and asked if I wanted to do it again. Sure thing. Date it is!

And then there is the Stud of course. We have been in touch only a little, he’s been super busy working on the weekends. When he did text he asked again when we should go for drinks because he still had some explaining to do. I told him we’d do it when he was on holidays and relaxed. His holiday starts tomorrow, so should be soon! My friends seem to think this could turn out to be the good news conversation, but I still have a hard time believing this, and I really don’t want to put too much thought into it so save myself a lot of disappointment.