Actually, I don’t crush a lot.
But I am building up quite the reputation amongst my friends.
This has been quite a “full” week for me.
Last Saturday I had the date with the Olympian (I just call him that, he’s trying to qualify) and then Mr. Artist.
Sunday I had another date with Mr. Artist.
Monday I got pounded like a nail by Sex Boy. (Seriously though, I didn’t go into detail at the time, but lets just say he had an hour before he had to be at work, he ended up being late and he was drenched in sweat like he had run a marathon and my hair was pasted to my head. We were both completely out of breath. It was like that.)
Tuesday I spent much needed alone time although I talked to Mr. Artist on the phone.
Wednesday I spend the evening with Mr. Artist (no sex) 🙂 And earlier in the day I began talking to this 25 year old guy (I will just refer to him as 25) who contacted me on OkC. He spoke very maturely and was assertive. Plus he got extra points for having good grammer.
Thursday I had a date with 25 and I actually enjoyed myself. We talked really well and had lots in common. He told me I looked “very beautiful”, he took initiative about what we were going to do and where, had chivalrous manners and told me that he wanted to see me again in the middle of dinner and asked me if I would consider being in a relationship with a guy his age. He didn’t want to stop talking to me and so we stood outside for an hour while he asked me about myself. He already asked me out again so we have a date on Tuesday.
Friday I spent the evening with Mr. Artist, again. We watched a movie and made out, a lot. Things got a bit steamy and while there was no sex, I ended up touching myself as he held me and sucked on my breasts. It felt really good not to have him pressure me into anything and be okay with just watching. Plus he said I have “perfect breasts.”
Saturday I was supposed to spend time with Mr. Artist and he was going to make dinner for me. I got a text from Erica asking me if I wanted to come over. She has said something about going through something on Friday when I saw her briefly at work and I’ve been missing just hanging out with her and her family. Plus, I needed a break to just be by myself and hang with my friend to reflect on some stuff. I rescheduled with Mr. Artist and explained that I wanted to be there with her. He understood. Chicks before dick.
Sunday (today) Mr. Artist is coming over in the evening to make Chicken Lemon Picatta for me (He’s half Italian).
So I was with four different guys over the course of one week.
Damn, it does kinda sound like I’m a player.
It’s not on purpose.
I’m really a commitment-phobe.
Things are getting a bit intense with Mr. Artist and it’s freaking me out. (I will write a separate post updating on what exactly has been going on the past few days)
I have always been this way. Part of the reason I didn’t have a boyfriend prior to getting married is that I always got skittish when it came down to deciding if I wanted to commit. I always found something wrong or felt like there might be something better, so I might have broke a heart or two in the process.
I only committed to my ex because I fell head over heels in love without realizing it was happening. I got tricked. One day we were friends, the next I was kissing her and realizing that I was in love with her.
Once I am in love, I’m committed.
No rhyme or reason, no problem is too big or too much to take on, I am all in.
No matter what.
I had the same experience with Mr. Nerd. It just happened without me even realizing it had happened. That’s why I was so dedicated so quickly without even meeting him.
But try to slowly get me to commit, good luck.
You’ll have an easier time trapping a wolf in a cage with vegetables as bait.
You see, I’m terrified of settling.
I grew up with poor examples of what marriage is.
I knew enough that I didn’t want to end up like my parents and so many other adults I saw who were less than content in their “sacred” relationship.
I didn’t want that.
I wanted perfect or nothing.
If something seemed good, I’d look for better.
If I felt a hint of hesitancy on my part, I’d press eject.
I’d rather be alone than settle for less than that.
Of course love doesn’t work that way.
Love never comes perfectly or in the way you want it to.
I’m not used to love happening slowly or even having a choice in the matter.
I’m used to love happening to me.
My response to it is a reaction.
So now that I actually have a choice, now that I can see what is happening as it’s happening, I’m freaking out.
Love is a real possibility at the moment and it scares me.
The fearless wolf is terrified.
How does one decide on one item when there is a whole buffet?
Especially when I’m hungry and indecisive.
I put the clean version because that’s how I heard it when it was on the radio. The unedited version is actually “I’m not a player, I just fuck a lot.”
Gotta love this song. You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the girl.