All the feels

So I have taken a (good) while to write this post, considering this happened in June / July. I’m not sure why I took my sweet old time as I am no longer confused, or have big feelings, but it has given me a lot of food for thought.

You might remember the Poker Player. The one that postponed his flight for me and who I thought was the one, albeit for a little while. After six months of very occasional keeping in touch, he was back in the country. How did I find out? Through Facebook. That’s right, he didn’t tell me. Imagine this. It was a Friday afternoon, I was bored at work and basically waiting for five o’clock to hit so I could jump in my friend’s car and get over the foodtruck festival that was happening in my favorite city. On top of that; it was a lovely summer day. As I was scrolling through my feed, I all of a sudden see a ‘Poker Player is attending…’ Yup, he apparantly was in the country and planning on being there. I stared at it, then panicked. I had come to work without make-up, and my hair was tied up because I hadn’t washed it. I couldn’t possibly face him like that. And face him I would. The festival was in a small park where if you knew anyone, you’d for sure run into them.

After a quick, heated consult with my co-workers, I decided to jump into the showers at work and at least do my hair. My boss was in a meeting, and I had twenty minutes left. I don’t think I have ever been so fast, but at least I felt better about myself. On the way, in the car, finally, my friend nearly pissed herself when I told her. But lo and behold; it only took fifteen minutes to spot him.

My stomach sank. As much as I had wanted to see him, I realized he had never told me, so he didn’t care enough for me to know. But there he was, as hot as I remembered him, and I hadn’t washed my hair for nothing. I pointed him out to my friend, and then casually strolled over there, did a ‘surprised’ double take, and asked him what the hell he was doing there. (I deserve an Oscar for that). I immediately got a big hug and three kisses. He introduced himself to my friend, drank half my glass of wine and seemed genuinely pleased to see me. We chatted for a few minutes before his friends dragged him away, and that was that. No see you laters, nothing. My friend was ecstatic. She absolutely adored him. She doesn’t adore anyone.

All through the night we’d occasionally run into each other, squeeze an arm, or just smile. My friend added fire to the fuel by telling me he seemed so pleased to see me. On my way home, I texted him that this country might be a little too small, but that it’d been nice to see him. He was slow to respond, but when he did he asked me to come to the bar with him and his friends. By that time I’d reached home. Too little too late.

Though the next day he asked if he could come by to ‘see my house’. I’m not an idiot, but the prospect of spending a couple of hours with him seemed great. Living in the moment and stuff. The past had taught me not to expect anything from him, so I knew that this was all I’d be getting. I could decline to protect myself, or I could just go with it and enjoy whatever time we’d have. I chose the latter.

He came, we talked about stuff big and small, mostly big as usual. He again started the talk on no relationships and what not. Old news, and I didn’t need warning. Once we started fooling around a bit, he suddenly got up and said he had a surprise. He took off his shirt, and said he’d been working hard at the gym. It was adorkable, and I had to hold back a smile. I just appreciated the muscle instead. We spent the next few hours in bed, which was highly enjoyable, as usual. With one hiccup. In the heat of the moment, a split second before he’s about to enter me, he again announces that he has a surprise. My mind went blank. What the hell kind of surprise could you have, at that moment in time? Well, this one: he had gotten tested and he was clean. I was a little flabbergasted, but told him I hadn’t tested in a while. He took the risk, with my approval. Truth be told, I haven’t had a man come inside me in a decade, because I’m not on the pill. I had forgotten what it felt like. And what a mess it is. When he left, at the end of the afternoon, I watched him walk down the street, and accepted that he’d be walking out of my life. I felt okay about it. The fact I went for drinks with a friend shortly after helped. He left for the US a few days later, the only contact we had was me texting him that my tests had gotten back okay.

Fast forward to six weeks later; he was back. I knew he’d  be as he has to fly through in order to go home. He always takes some time to visit family and friends. I didn’t want to text or call him, which he didn’t either and mildly irritated me. A few days after he returned, I saw him on a dating site. With a full copy of his passport. It was such an idiot thing to do that I messaged him to take it down. We spent the majority of the evening chatting. Things got pretty deep and personal, yet remained at the surface. Sounds weird, I know. He then said he would make time to come see me.

He texted me two days later, while I was at a work dinner. I told him I wouldn’t be home before ten. He said that was fine and we’d be in touch. Long story short; he showed up at eleven thirty, just as I was about to lock the door and call it a night. I knew this was a booty call, but I wasn’t so impressed with that. We chatted for a little while, I showed him the house I bought (of which he knew exactly where it is) and he told me about his trip. Naturally we had sex. It was so good I tried (and succeeded) not to cry. For some reason that orgasm came with a release of some other stuff. Part of me knew that this would be it. It might be the last time I’d ever see him, feel this way and knowing I’d had to let go. He didn’t notice, it was dark and we didn’t speak.

At one thirty in the morning, he looked at the clock and said he had to go. I asked if he was fucking kidding me. He came up with excuses about having to bring the car back and not being able to take out his contacts. I was pissed. To me, that was poor manners and disrespectful. We’d know each other too long to be pulling that shit off. He left regardless.

The next day I was still unamused, told him that and purposely let it escalate. For a friends with benefits arrangement, I need some kind of human, friendly, non-sexual contact to balance out the hooker feel. He wasn’t even telling me he’d be leaving the next day. That’s how much he cared. While he understood my points, he stressed that he’d been clear. He had, and that was not the issue at hand. We agreed to disagree. I told him that if he ever came back, it would to come from him, but that I was not going to run after him again. We said a temporary goodbye.

And that’s the story of the Poker Player. I learned a thing or two from him. (That at thirty two, I’m too old to rely on morning after pills, for one). Yes, he’s full of himself, but there’s something about him that draws me in. It’s easy to get lost with him. But, after all that, I have not felt sad. Closing it off like that was a good thing. He’s back next month, and I intend on keeping my word. I have no desire to get in touch, but we’ll see how that goes when he’s physically here. I don’t think he’ll do it either, I gave him shit after all. At this point in time, I am alright with that. A year ago, I had thought he might be the one, but I was wrong. And that’s okay.

If you made it to the end of this monstrous post; I applaud you!

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.

An Epiphany

I had one. Seriously.

Lately I had been irritated with the kind of men messaging me on OKCupid and my other paid website. Fifty year olds with pot bellies, balding thirty year olds and dirty forty somethings with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths and bad teeth. Did these men really think I was in their league? It upset me, even. (Which I find awful to admit because I’m really trying to be less judgy) Surely I could do better than guys like that.

But then, in some really clear moment, it hit me. Was I a female version of these men, trying to date outside of my league? Is that why my dating life has been shit lately? All these men either stop messaging after a few or not replying at all. All these men that I do not get past two dates with. Is it karma? I’ve left men hanging, not replied or even been rude. Maybe I’m getting what I deserve.

There must be something fundamentally wrong with me. There is. I’m a bitch. A lot of the time. I can’t deal with stupidity and flakiness. But instead of giving people a chance, I jump right at their throat. Especially men. And I probably look like it too. Even if someone were to be remotely interested, they’d back off at second glance.

Bottom line; I’ve got stuff to work on. I need to block men out of my life that are doing nothing but frustrating me, and I need to get my head clear. How can I find love if this is my state of mind? I am always envious of people that radiate calm, kindness and love. They are open, and people want to be around them. They’re always loved by someone. So if I want any of that, I need to change my attitude.

In a way my trip to China comes at the right time. Even though it is a work trip, I booked some holidays following, and perhaps I shouldn’t do anything but spend some time on myself and see if I can get things straight, at least in my head.

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?

200+ Followers!

It’s weird. More than two hundred people read this blog. People I don’t know. Most of you are lurkers (hello!) but for the ones that actively comment and what not; I would have stopped long time ago if you hadn’t.

Which brings me to my next points; it’s a little weird and scary that so many people read about my (sometimes) embarrassing adventures and my outpour of emotions. Thank God for anonymity.

Also; even sadder, this blog has been running for sixteen months. Yes, that is sad. In sixteen months, I have had countless dates, met loads of interesting and not so interesting men, met a few assholes, met a few with great potential that eventually broke my heart, had good and bad sex and in the end… lead to nothing.

Here’s to hoping this blog will not make it to two full years. But I’ll keep you updated in the meantime.

Thanks!

Date Week

Supposed date week, I should probably say. I was supposed to have three dates this week, Tuesday, Wednesday and today. So off we go.

Tuesday I met with a Tinder guy I had literally only spoken to for ten minutes before we decided to go for a drink. Off I went to the city, where he’d picked a nice bar. I got there first, but he didn’t see me when he arrived and took another table. I went over, we said hello and ordered drinks. In his pictures he was cute cute, and he wasn’t ugly in real life, but I think he just takes good photos. Also, I pretty quickly realized he probably wasn’t so into me. He was a little standoffish, kept looking away, and there was minor struggle to find stuff to talk about. Definite lesson for me to talk to people a bit longer than six messages before meeting them. Going into a date not even knowing if you’re even going to have anything in common didn’t quite work. I had decided to call it a night after the first drink, but when he found out we were into the same music, he asked if I wanted to go to a bar close-by that had a live performance of a folk band. I was surprised, but agreed. Off we went on his bike, and got to an awesome little living room bar where the most amazing band I have heard in a long time played. It was fantastic. Also, we didn’t really have to talk except for during breaks, which was manageable. I think he just didn’t want to go alone and I happened to conveniently be there. Either way, I had a great night, even if it wasn’t for him but the place we went to. We haven’t been in touch since, and I am perfectly fine with that.

Yesterday, I was supposed to meet a guy that I was curious about, he’s good-looking (in his photos) and stuff to talk about. Yes, at least I talked to this one. But then, oh dilemma, football. World Cup has hit it off and the country always goes apeshit orange. Since we won five to one last week, expectations for yesterday’s game were high. He says he’s not really into football, but since we’d struggle to find any place that would not broadcast the match, we decided to postpone until next week. I had a fantastic evening out watching the game (because I am into it), and then finally watched my illegally downloaded season finale of Game of Thrones. Perfection.

Today, I had actually double booked. I had set this date with the first guy three weeks ago, and I had sort of assumed he would forget since we hadn’t talked after setting the date, so I felt secure enough to double book it. So then I was also supposed to meet camping man, whom I had great hippie talks with about hammocks, camping, and bonfires. I hadn’t heard from him either, but did receive a message in the afternoon asking if I minded rescheduling as today wasn’t so good after all. Fine. He said he’d be in touch this weekend.

So that sums up my ‘epic’ date week! Let’s see if the last two men actually get in touch to reschedule, although especially for the first one, I’ll send him a message if he doesn’t. He seems like someone I’ll want to meet!

After my fantastic weekend with the Stud, he has been texting every single day to this point. We haven’t really said anything about the whole thing since I don’t want to force anything. And since he’s not really a flirty type of person there’s little to be expected on his end. Though he did say I was biased when he was fishing for a compliment on his physique related to football players. Well, obviously. Anyway, enjoying it until it will last. I am going to Sweden for the weekend still and I’ll see how it goes when I come back and see how he feels.