Date with the porn director (henceforth known as PD because I have no imagination) was... incredibly good.
Instant comfortability.
Constant conversation, no awkward moments of silence. Complete easy flow.
There's actually a lot I want to write and things I want to remember, but I'm so goddamned tired (as always) that I don't want to write in this state.
We had fun. We had good chemistry. I met some of his coworkers, his ex-girlfriend (who I later looked up online and am now completely intimidated by), watched a -very- softcore lesbian porn being shot (by someone else renting the space). Wandered through downtown, just talking. Went back to his place, messed around a little bit, but he kept his pants on.
I totally didn't. Such a slut, I know. Stone me, already.
I didn't spend the night, though I wanted to. When I left, we made plans for breakfast, and he showed up at my place bright and early and we walked down to a restaurant on the beach, talked more.
I really like him.
But that doesn't matter. That's a no-go zone.
Makes me circle back around to my fear that since GV8 broke down my walls, I might not be able to have casual sex again without turning into one of those girls that falls in love with her casual partner.
I don't want to go through that again. Once with GV8 was enough.
Personally, I'm going to do my best not to dwell on it. Not until it proves to be a potential issue. As things are right now, we have two dates under our belt and scads of things could happen to prevent any future dates. I've seen it go that way before and, while disappointing, is just the way life can go.
I'll examine, watch, and be aware.
But I'm not going to live in fear. Not this way.
About Me
- Poetry of Flesh
- Los Angeles, CA, United States
- Love Sonnet XI
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Im happy for you that you had some fun. It is good to feel wanted and sexy and even pretty. It is a shame that the men who show that kind of attention are not the ones that would make good life partners, so it seems. I am feeling very isolated here where I live and more and more am feeling like I just want to go back to Washington State and be near my family. For now I am stuck. I will try to make the best of it.
ReplyDeleteAt least the dates were good ones....
ReplyDeleteMy gal hates semicolons at least as much as you do. While I know how and when to use them properly I think I'll bow to the peer pressure and discontinue the usage of them....
Sounds like a perfect date to me - your pants off, his pants on. :) You should see him again and just try to enjoy it. Don't let the fear of getting hurt hold you back from enjoying yourself. I lived that way a long time.. it's hard to get past. The pain sucks, but it's temporary and it will go away. If the dates were working well for you, to hell with keeping your guard up. You never know what kind of fun you may have if you don't take the risk.
ReplyDeleteSweetMag,
ReplyDeleteYou will get out to Washington soon, I know. Why don't you go for a visit, take a breather from being alone?
Savage,
Semi-colons are for wusses and men over 50. You are neither of those, so I support your lack of use.
GirlX,
Heheh, it was pretty nice. We're supposed to go out again tomorrow, if his work doesn't get the better of him. Hopefully it won't, and I'll be able to report back with all sorts of excited glee.
I definitely need a date that ends with excited glee. :P
ReplyDelete