I spent part of my weekend tangled up in bed with a guy I thought I might not see again. Nothing has changed, except that he did make an apology. I’m not comfortable speaking my mind with him; I’m not really myself around him. We are nothing but good sleepover buddies. He’s proven that he’s not grown up enough for anything else (and not creative enough to come up with better excuse than “I lost my phone.”) But like always, I’m glad he came over.

There’s another fellow I’ve been on two great dates with, but we couldn’t make plans this past weekend. And we aren’t anywhere near serious. We aren’t a thing and we haven’t made physical contact.

I’m afraid I’m always going to fall back on door #1 because it is easy and comforting and an instant cure for boredom.

I like the feeling of his weight on me. I hate sending an email and being nervous that every time is the time he might not reply. I like running my hands over his back. I hate editing myself in conversation because I’m trying to be as appealing as possible, like I’m at a job interview. I like falling asleep with his arms draped over me. I hate trying to think of unique date ideas.

Sex is so easy. I always have this nagging feeling that I shouldn’t just keep doing something (someone) because I’m waiting for what I really want to come along. But I can’t think of a reason why.

On principle, with the rude ignoring thing, I was definitely not going to sleep with him again. I had kind of declared it. I was settling in for a nice, potentially long, dry season. Then I don’t know…boredom happened. I have needs!

And that was not even two days ago, and I feel like I need more. I’ve chewed on four of my fingernails.