Because I postponed last night to tonight. Work had to be done. But yeah, even though I expressed what I expressed, I'm going out with him again because he is such a nice guy. And because he DOESN'T deserve to be dumped because of how he speaks. And because he might make an incredible friend.
But I still don't feel how I felt last week. It was the opportunity, the adventure, the kind words, the newness of it all. Always heady stuff, that First Blush. And I think I know what my female date from Match.com--lo these many years ago now--what she must have felt. I just didn't do it for her. And my new friend just doesn't do it for me. I think that's the safest way to put it.
This whole week has been busy with work, but there has been no ... how do I put it ... no passion in it. Nothing to rev me up. The whole idea of sex has made me slightly queasy, in fact.
Hmmm. Reading this back to myself, I think I know what's going on here. Life Students, can you see it for yourselves? I'm going to leave a big gap in the narrative to give you guys time to guess before I say it.
Faced with the actually possibility of sex, now with a dude instead of a chick -- I'm getting the same reaction. Distance setting in. Separation. What do we call it in the business? Disassociation. I couldn't even think of the word until the third try.
Shiiiiiiit. I'm still fucking victimized by the molestation. (edit; changed it from "my molestation" to "the molestation". But I'm paying attention dammit to what I'm doing. I saw that.) 45-minus-innocence years later. Damn. I want to even say that I WANT to overcome this, but I'm so fucking disassociated from it that I don't feel like I even want to try. Only when the opportunity comes around am I perfectly happy doing nothing. Which, clearly is not "perfectly happy" -- but in all truth "rather terrifiedly running away from". But when there's no opportunity and I'm lonely -- oh then it's all "Poor me" and "Oh my lonely heart" and "When will I ever find a love of my own".
It's bullshit. I don't want anyone. I want to be alone. I want to be safe. I don't want to be touched. idontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouchedidontwanttobetouched
I'm losing my fucking marbles here. No I'm not. I'm not losing them. I'm finding them. I'm finding what's really going on.
Shit. I need some real help.
I need some real help or I'm going to fucking die like this.
2 hours to go until the next date. Oh that poor guy.