Word Perv

Of course the story of #6 doesn’t end with Wednesday night’s date. It would be far too presumptious to assume that after sharing what appeared to be a great date that things would change between us. That suddenly we would begin actually dating. At least when it comes to my life we cannot assume things will be shiny and wonderful. It just doesn’t always go that way people and we know it.

Thursday night I went hashing as usual. Talking to a friend on trail I told him of the previous night’s events. “Is that the first time he opened the car door for you?” he asked, clearly unimpressed. I nodded, “It’s the first time we’ve gone out where he’s picked me up. Usually we just meet out somewhere.” Shaking his head as he responded, “Not good enough…”

The night came and went and while at the bar #6 suddenly popped up, imploring me to stop by his place on my way home. I resisted, but like a stupid girl, he eventually convinced me. As I rode the metro I furiously texted with a friend who knew the whole back-story of #6. “Be good. Be smart,” he texted me. “You need to do what is good for you so trust yourself. Know that you deserve a lot. Don’t ever stop looking for it. Just make sure you are making the right decision and not the easy one.”

His words rung in my head as I walked to #6’s place. He was right, and I knew it. Hell, I’ve known it for a while. Yet here I was, blocks away from #6, the guy who likes me, but not enough to actually date me. What the hell was I doing?

At #6’s, while laying on the couch together, in between kissing me he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.” I remained quiet. “You are so amazing and you deserve so much and I just can’t give that to you,” he continued.

I didn’t say anything, just laid there for a moment. “I’m tired,” I said, “Let’s go to bed.” Why deal with a situation when you can just avoid it?

Curling up beside me he quickly fell asleep. While I was exhausted, having gotten little sleep the past few nights (due to Wednesday’s late date and the 3 bottles of wine I shared with a friend on Tuesday night), I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing and I couldn’t make it stop. I wanted my poetry journal as I had so many things swirling through my head that I knew there was at least a poem or two or ten in there. Instead I just sat in bed, looking at #6 as he slept, knowing he wasn’t what I wanted.

And so today I ended things. For good this time. We’ll still be friends. We’ll still be running partners. That’s just all we’ll be. And that’s okay. I escaped without my feelings getting hurt, and before I got so involved I couldn’t get out. And there has to be something positive that can be said for that.