and all is right with the world


I’ve reached a level of frustration with the new person I met and was so excited about so that feels very comfortable and familiar!

I was confident that we both wanted to get! to! know! each! other! and spend time together and just see. Then the last two weekends have put a damper on that idea. Being busy is something I understand, having obligations, yeah. But don’t find pockets of time (e.g., a weeknight, after your child is asleep – I never felt compelled to sneak into someone’s bedroom as a teenager and don’t now – or an hour or two that we can meet up someone) where you are available and would like to see me just so we can fuck. It very well might be my problem. I very much wanted to have sex with this person again and do all manner of things and he is not wrong on the face of it to suggest that we do that.


But like, GOD. DAMN. IT. If that’s the best I have to offer or all you can make time for then, yes, I will feel let down. I will be nervous about engaging anymore and developing feelings to find out later that sexually things are amazing and that is the extent of your interest. I will be hurt by that. I’m a little hurt now.


Am I crazy and ridiculous to feel slighted? We are just maybe not on the same page. I am so great at being fatalistic but, maybe this was a few fantastic dates that never would become anything.


I don’t think I have to play stupid games about how soon after meeting I “let” someone get into my pants. I don’t want to. I don’t have any interest in the kind of man that buys into those rules. I want to do what feels natural and I also want to know that there’s serious sexual chemistry before I’m invested. But if I am sexual, it’s like there’s this other fucking set of confusing expectations. I don’t/didn’t know this guy well enough to feel secure in the idea that he is interested in me in any other way than sexually, so for me, that creates this specific nagging fear that (like so many past sexual partners have indicated) I’m a great lay and that’s the best part of me.


The more I try to articulate this the more I can see it is my fucking baggage. I don’t care. I know what I need to feel comfortable, during the beginnings of things, and if I’m not getting it then I guess that’s that.