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So I did it. I put my feelings out there for him just as a FYI so he would know. I told him and it went exactly how I thought it would. My own intuition scares me sometimes. It’s funny, isn’t it? In the beginning, I figured this would happen. For a fleeting moment, I thought “This will be like Mr. (former) Anti-Committment; he chases after you, you’re half-interested. But in the end, the situation is swapped and you always get hurt.” Oh, how I need to learn.
He was supposed to be different. And he is. But when it comes down to it all, I guess all guys are the same; this one just executed it differently. Surprisingly, I’m not angry at him. I have no regrets, strangely enough. More than anything, it set a hard reminder to myself that I’m better off on my own. I should have listened to my friend when he said, “If there was no talk about the future, there is none. Leave it.” I apparently need to start listening to him more.
The last time I felt like this was during the Mr. Co-worker situation in the beginning of the year. That one, I was stupid. This one, I wasn’t. Pen IS different. I’m not making excuses for him but I should have known his “casual” isn’t very casual. He’s never done this before. I should have known better. He didn’t run away from the conversation, however, and we remain good friends. But it still hurts a hell of a lot. It’s so strange. He did everything he was supposed to with respecting me. He did what I hope every guy will treat me like: buys dinner, holds me, makes sure I’m okay, talks to me. I told him in the future, if he ever does the casual thing again, he should probably stay away from cuddling, no matter how innocent it is. Maybe the other way is really easier. It’s harsher and a quick band-aid rip. Pen’s way drew me in and then I forgot reality sometimes. Hilarious that I was worried about hurting him in the beginning.
I’m not sorry for my feelings. I’m not sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak up sooner; I’m sorry I was stupid enough to think he actually cared for me beyond all this. And yes, we’re friends, so he does care for me, but not in the way I thought he did. Is it always going to be like this? I don’t believe in The One, but I don’t believe that this is my life or my future. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to NY. I was fine before it; could have left it or taken it. But I can’t even say that I regret NY. I took a chance.
A lot of our convo seemed to be him commenting on how brave I was b/c when taking such giant risks like this, you have the courage to handle it when it goes wrong. Am I brave? I don’t feel it. I feel weak for having landed here, half in love with this guy that I thought would change everything. But maybe that’s just it. I do better when I’m on my own. I accomplish more on my own. I find my own happiness. That’s been my motto for a long time and I need to remember that. I’m going to climb Kili alone and I’m going to keep pushing forward, focusing on me. No more distractions, no more guys, no more swooning. Just Jane.
So I did it. I put my feelings out there for him just as a FYI so he would know. I told him and it went exactly how I thought it would. My own intuition scares me sometimes. It’s funny, isn’t it? For a fleeting moment, I thought “This will be like Mr. (former) Anti-Committment; he chases after you, you’re half-interested. But in the end, the situation is swapped and you always get hurt.” Oh, how I need to learn.
He was supposed to be different. And he is. But when it comes down to it all, I guess all guys are the same; this one just executed it differently. Surprisingly, I’m not angry at him. I have no regrets, strangely enough. More than anything, it set a hard reminder to myself that I’m better off on my own. I should have listened to my friend when he said, “If there was no talk about the future, there is none. Leave it.” I apparently need to start listening to him more.
The last time I felt like this was during the Mr. Co-worker situation in the beginning of the year. That one, I was stupid. This one, I wasn’t. Pen IS different. I’m not making excuses for him but I should have known his “casual” isn’t very casual. He’s never done this before. I should have known better. He didn’t run away from the conversation, however, and we remain good friends. But it still hurts a hell of a lot. It’s so strange. He did everything he was supposed to with respecting me. He did what I hope every guy will treat me like: buys dinner, holds me, makes sure I’m okay, talks to me. I told him in the future, if he ever does the casual thing again, he should probably stay away from cuddling, no matter how innocent it is. Maybe the other way is really easier. It’s harsher and a quick band-aid rip. Pen’s way drew me in and then I forgot reality sometimes. Hilarious that I was worried about hurting him in the beginning.
I’m not sorry for my feelings. I’m not sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak up sooner; I’m sorry I was stupid enough to think he actually cared for me beyond all this. And yes, we’re friends, so he does care for me, but not in the way I thought he did. Is it always going to be like this? I don’t believe in The One, but I don’t believe that this is my life or my future. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to NY. I was fine before it; could have left it or taken it. But I can’t even say that I regret NY. I took a chance.
I don’t hate him; we remain very close friends. In fact, it was probably the most mature adult conversation I’ve had about this kind of stuff. I can’t even breath the usual words “jerk” or “asshole” or “spineless” in the same sentence because he’s not.
A lot of our convo seemed to be him commenting on how brave I was because when taking such giant risks like this, you have the courage to handle it if it goes wrong. Am I brave? I don’t feel it. I feel weak for having landed here, half in love with this guy that I thought would change everything. But maybe that’s just it. I do better when I’m on my own. I accomplish more on my own. I find my own happiness. That’s been my motto for a long time and I need to remember that. I’m going to climb Kili alone and I’m going to keep pushing forward, focusing on me. No more distractions, no more guys, no more swooning.
Just Jane.
I hit my year anniversary in Austin last week. A year ago, I got into a ridiculously bad car accident on my first weekend here, which also happened to be my ex-bf’s birthday. This year, it was lingering in the back of my mind, but faded quickly as I laughed and screamed through the Coney Island Cyclone roller coaster. Last year, I was stressed and lonely and hysterical. This year, I spent a glorious beautiful weather weekend in NYC with old friends and the crush that seems to never fully go away.
Although I got late Friday night, I didn’t see him until Saturday evening due to busy schedules, the US Open and a checklist of people I needed to see. Up to that point, he had slipped from my mind as I busied myself preparing for Africa and he for a trip to Costa Rica. But when I walked off the subway and saw him grinning at me across the street, all doubts flew out of my head. Is it possible he got better looking since I last saw him?
He gave me options for our plans that night, one of them involving a long walk up a hill through the Cloisters. He being in the camp that I needed to train more for Kilimanjaro strongly hinted at that one so I sighed and agreed. The sun was setting over the Hudson, the weather was cool and there was green all around. It’s as someone directed the perfect scenery for a romantic walk.
We had dinner at a small Italian place by his apartment. Conversation was smooth and fast flowing, filled with laughter and teasing. He lamented over the true meaning of “adoration” and how sad he was it’s gotten lost through time due to the “cuteness” of the word “adore” and “adorable.” To truly have adoration for something is to love and respect and be passionate about it. His adoration is for tennis and Africa, where he did Peace Corp for years. Deep down, I hoped he would have adoration for me some day.
He’s not an emotional man; he’s passionate about a few things, but generally, a stoic person. On the rare chance he makes a comment about us or me, he’s sincere to the point I desperately wish for more moments. My friends find him overwhelming great, probably because he’s so opposite of my usual. As we’re riding the subway, Smallbone giggles and whispers, “He’s so dreamy, Jane! I’m in love with him for you.”
But all these happy good feelings are just that. I leave for Africa next week and I wonder if he’ll fade from my memories or if he’ll move on. There was no talk about the future. Maybe that’s what happens when you live in the moment. The DTR (Define the Relationship) was looming in my head, but I pushed it away. What’s the point? He’s there, I’m here and there’s nothing to debate. But when I fall asleep in his arms and he comments that we fit together very well, I find myself wondering about the future.
Reality bites.
He’s finally engaged.
I have a variety of emotions thrown at me when I find out. Part of the chaos is from just getting off the phone with Pen (see previous entry; more on this later). Part of me is stunned. I knew it would happen sometime and soon, but it still stung a tiny bit. We had plans to get dinner and catch up when I was in St. Louis, but he chickened out via text message (although it was his idea). I called him on it and we never spoke again.
He is, for me, what I am to Pen. That #2 in your life that liberates you of what you thought was the norm and showing the way things could be. He was the one that showed me all the physical stuff didn’t have to be used as a tool for manipulation or lies or control. It could be fun and something I could own for myself.
The tiny tick that hurts is that I was never good enough for him to commit, but like Mel told me, “Sometimes I think we’re all girl scouts and instead of ‘leaving our campsites cleaner than when we found them,’ we leave our men better than when we found them. We help them understand women better and, in some cases, understand themselves. And what thanks do we get? They find great relationships after they’re done with us.”
The truth is, as much as he hurt me, he also contributed to making me who I am now. Despite the last year being rough, I AM pretty proud of how far I’ve come. And as one man walks permanently out of my life, another steps in.
As hard as I’ve tried to follow the 2-day rule, I’ve found that my mind still wanders to another man, Pen (see previous entry). He actually calls. So I may have told him straight up he better keep in touch, even if it as only friends or I wouldn’t let him kiss me. It’s a first and I’m unsure how to handle a guy who treats me the way he does. But it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? This is the way it’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t be so in awe of these actions. But the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I wasn’t being swept up by all the niceness. There’s been plenty of nice guys that I wasn’t attracted to and I promised to never settle even when I was lonely.
So what does this mean? I have an opportunity to go visit NYC for Labor Day due to a possible free mileage ticket. I have possibly one day off I can squeeze out of work. I have 50+ friends I need to see there, but I think I would be very happy staying in with him all weekend. That terrifies me. This entire situation freaks me out. I lose my cool when I’m around him, chatting nervously like a little bird to fill up the silences that I’m not used to yet. When he says nothing and just looks at me, I get butterflies and have to blink away because his gaze is so penetrating.
He frustrates me often with his stupid simple man logic (“Wait, why are you complaining about the lack of women boots? You just said there were so many options when you walked in!”) and he likes the wrong sports teams. He goes to bed at midnight and gets up at 7am daily while I find my best energy late at night. Yet, I still want to keep him around to see where it’s going.
Going to NY signifies so much more than just a fun jaunt to the city. After New Orleans, St. Louis and Austin, it’s another home although I never lived there. Going there when I could be going somewhere new (and with Africa soon after) is a giant step. On paper, it’s a horrible idea. Why get attached? Whey get more involved when this is clearly going nowhere with the distance? Like Kilimanjaro, there’s 1000 reasons not to do it and only a handful of good ones. But oh, are those handful really good ones! I promised I would stay open to the possibilities, but not pursue actively. Getting on that plane is breaking all the rules.
Logic or heart? Which?!
Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
McKenzie: You’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!
Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?
Tom: What?
Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.
The definition of strange:
Waking up with someone in the same bed and not because he happened to pass out next to you. It’s unfamiliar to fall asleep in someone’s arms and wake up back in them, even if there was moving around and separation in the night. It’s even more startling to be held for the sole sake of him wanting to be close to you and not because he’s thinking about how to get into your pants. And he’s not afraid to admit how much he enjoys it. He brings a present with him because his mother –like mine–taught him to never visit someone empty handed. It’s a book that I had been wanting for awhile; he remembers, orders it and wraps it in yellow tissue paper.
This is apparently how it’s supposed to be. The whole weekend completely threw me for a loop. It’s terrifying to have someone look at me the way he does. He seems me as a sensual and sexy when all I see is a clumsy awkward tomboy. In the places I see fat and wide hips, he sees beautiful curves and everything that makes a woman a woman. Where I see lopsided different sized breasts, he sees perfection.
While I’ve been on a carpe diem journey with guys in the last few years, he’s been reserved and conservative about his affection. He stood where I stood 3 years ago and it makes me dizzy to be standing in the place where most of the guys in my history were in my life. I teach and he learns and I watch as he lets go years of conflicts.
The time was filled with ups and down and lefts and rights, all shuffling around like a chaotic organized mess. In the quiet moments, I finally felt what a real relationship is like, something I haven’t experienced in seven years.
But the real world slips in on this early morning and we smile at each other under sleepy eyes as I drop him off at the airport. He returns to his NY world and I to mine. To my surprise, I don’t ask him what’s going to happen or the future or what this all was. I don’t even panic or worry. Apparently I’m growing, too. Instead, I leave the weekend just as it was: a great wonderful memory and time spent with a rare kind of guy. If he wants more, he’ll have to keep up his end and come after me.
Summer: “One day I woke up and I just knew.”
Tom: “Knew what?”
Summer: “What I was never sure of with you.”
The definition of strange:
Waking up with someone in the same bed and not because he happened to pass out next to you. It’s unfamiliar to fall asleep in someone’s arms and wake up back in them, even if there was moving around and separation in the night. It’s even more startling to be held for the sole sake of him wanting to be close to you and not because he’s thinking about how to get into your pants. And he’s not afraid to admit how much he enjoys it. He brings a present with him because his mother, like mine, taught him to never visit someone empty handed. It’s a book that I had been wanting for awhile; he remembers, orders it and wraps it in yellow tissue paper.
This is apparently how it’s supposed to be. The whole weekend completely threw me for a loop. It’s terrifying to have someone look at me the way he does. He seems me as sensual and sexy when all I see is a clumsy awkward tomboy. In the places I see fat and wide hips, he sees beautiful curves and everything that makes a woman a woman. Where I see lopsided different sized breasts, he sees perfection.
While I’ve been on a carpe diem journey with guys in the last few years, he’s been reserved and conservative about his affection. He stood where I stood 3 years ago and it makes me dizzy to be standing in the place where most of the guys in my history were in my life. I teach and he learns and I watch as he lets go years of conflicts.
The time was filled with ups and down and lefts and rights, all shuffling around like a chaotic organized mess. In the quiet moments, I finally felt what a real relationship is like, something I haven’t experienced in seven years.
But the real world slips in on this early morning and we smile at each other under sleepy eyes as I drop him off at the airport. He returns to his NY world and I to mine. To my surprise, I don’t ask him what’s going to happen or the future or what this all was. I don’t even panic or worry. Apparently I’m growing, too. Instead, I leave the weekend just as it was: a great wonderful memory and time spent with a rare kind of guy. If he wants more, he’ll have to keep up his end and come after me.
Summer: “One day I woke up and I just knew.”
Tom: “Knew what?”
Summer: “What I was never sure of with you.”
Well, Mel, you called it. Out of nowhere, Pen is back in my life. Although we’ve kept in touch on and off in the last year through emails and occasional Facebook conversations, I never thought much about it.
Then out of nowhere last week, we ended up talking for 4 hours until 2am on Facebook chat (for anyone who knows, this is dedication because it’s a crappy application and he’s an hour ahead of me in NY). A few more all-night chats the last few days and I think we’ve probably talked about everything most people avoid on the first date (sex, past relationships, religion, work…). Before all this, we had thrown around the idea of him visiting with Mr. Bruised Ego in the fall, but last night, out of nowhere:
“So, I have kind of a big question. How do you feel about a visitor in early August? I would love to spend time with you.”
I, of course, told him it was a great idea, but inside, I was panicking. Because, WHOA. This has never happened to me that a guy that I’m actually attracted to (more on this later) actually is interested and NOT because he’s trying to get in my pants. He’s probably the last existing old-fashioned single male out there with only old-fashioned dates, maybe a kiss at the door and sex only when it’s serious (ha, remember when I was like this a year ago?).
It feels foreign, strange, terrifying and exciting. My friends don’t seem to grasp why this is scary, but emotionally, how is it not? Every guy that I’ve ever been interested in or attracted to was either completely unavailable or running for the hills because they only wanted to get some. And now, there’s a guy who isn’t looking for that and is interested in me for solely me. Yes, it’s great, but it’s also making my chest freeze up and my heart panic.
Firstly, it feels like we’ve been online dating and we’re about to meet for the first time even though we’ve already met. Will be be awkward? What if it’s completely wrong in person? What if it’s just uncomfortable?
Secondly, I’m not sure the physical attraction is 100% there for me. This grows over time, of course, but as most girls know, once you realize there is none of that chemistry/attraction, it’s over and the guy is delegated to the friend zone no matter how much you like his personality. With Mr. Pilot and Mr. Co-worker, the physical attraction was so instant, but of course never made up for the lack of spine on their part. What if it doesn’t show up? Having been here before where the guy really likes me but I feel nothing because of the lack of attraction physically, I just end up feeling awkward.
Third, I’m not terrified of getting hurt at all (strangely) in this case, but more the fear of what this COULD mean. A guy who actually is upfront, doesn’t play games and compliments me sincerely? What am I supposed to do with that?!
So I guess I’m going to just breathe and roll with it and be myself with no expectations. Easier said than done…
What is it about jerks that makes them hard to get over? Or stop thinking about? Is it is because we are SO confused by how one person can be such an asshole that we hold onto some naive hope they’ll prove otherwise? Is the rule that the jerkier they are, the harder it is to move on? Common sense and logic says it should be easier, a clean cut, a head held high movement that tells your feet to walk out. But it never seems to work that way.
The jerks seem to be the hardest heartbreak (for me, anyway). Maybe most of it is anger at myself for ignoring the signs or for making such poor judgement or stupidly thinking he was a good guy. It’s some innate desire to not be wrong when he proves to be THAT guy, even when you’ve sworn you were no longer going to ever date THAT type of guy again.
So I beat a dead horse again and again. Revive it, just to beat it down some more. Each time I think I can’t be hurt even more than I have in the past, I somehow manage to stumble another man that manages do just that. Of course there are good guys out there, but apparently I seem to keep on attracting the bad ones.
I’m not asking for much. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend. Just nice guys that I have a connection that I can get to know better, platonic of otherwise. I’m a low-maitnenced girl. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I need to start asking for more, demanding more respect.
Does it ever get easier?
Despite having one of those unforgivable life-changing years, I ended up spending the last day with no plans. In the last 3 hours of 2008, I was alone in my apartment, but on the phone with one best friend, who lives states away from her Marine-husband and online with another best friend, who’s boyfriend is staying with her family as she goes slowly insane. All 3 of us in vastly different stages of life, but all unhappy on NYE. It was a startling reminder that maybe the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
So 2008 ended with a quiet whimper. No crazy party, no giant blow-out celebration for an incredibly amazing year. I was disappointed and sad not to be home in New Orleans with the annual traditions of the 31st, but at 12:01, as predicted, my loving friends called from the same balcony they have every year to whoever isn’t there.
It’s almost embarrassing to admit I was alone, but it’s just another day in theory. The clock continues to tick and life goes on. It may not have ended the way I wanted it to, but it certainly doesn’t stop my momentum for having an even better 2009!
I used to make resolutions, break them, feel bad and laugh it off. But last year, I actually accomplished all mine from making new friends to moving out of St. Louis to backpacking in Europe to starting over in a new city. I even followed through with the promise to not get caught up with guys that would be an obstacle to those dreams. Even though I’m a very different person emotionally and mentally than I was a year ago today, I think I’m still haunted by the looming feeling of loneliness that used to seep into my life in St. Louis. So in 2009, I’ll swallow my fear of social situations and dating and new things and keep pushing forward! Always seek adventure.
Other realistic resolutions (instead of making vague general ones, I’m going to make specific ones so it’ll actually happen):
LEARN JAZZ PIANO: a life dream of mine, so I start lessons next week! After playing classical piano for 12 years until I went to college, I miss the ivories and will attempt to make a return.
LOSE 20 POUNDS BY JUNE: I’ll continue to take 5-6 flights of stairs up and down everyday. One day, I’ll manage to go from floor 5-17. Someday. Walk to places to eat at work when we go out and take a 20 minute walk even when I have lunch at work.
TRAVEL MORE: I’m addicted. Wanderlust (or maybe I’m a wanderslut…). Will find time and money somehow to continue this dream! Maybe South America in early April?
STOP HOOKING UP WITH DRUNK GUYS: Due to my lack of drinking, it happens often that I end up in bed with drunk guys. And yes, technically I’m the one in control here (“you SO took advantage of him being wasted,” laughed a friend), but the emotional afterwards is too confusing and achy. I have a feeling this one will be the toughest one to keep. Amazing how different things were a year ago…
With that said, good luck to everyone and their resolutions! What are some of yours?
It’s been a rough few weeks. Despite telling myself I’ve been through much much worse, I can’t seem to ease this heartache. Seeing him 5 days a week doesn’t help the situation whatsoever. Apparently heartache is a bitch, no matter how many times you’ve been through it. I’m also spending my first NYE away from New Orleans, which isn’t going to help the “healing time.”
I’ve gotten a lot of platitudes lately, “It’ll be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end!” or “He’s a jerk, anyways. What guy hurts 2 girls so easily?” or “You work together; it would have been a disaster.” I know. I know all of this, but it doesn’t seem to lighten the ache that is in my chest. The entire situation keeps nagging me because in a way, I believed so strongly in our chemistry and how much we had in common that it seems so WRONG that it just dies. How is it possible we go from having great conversations and and hooking up to … nothing and acting like strangers?
I guess it can be argued in the last year, I’ve had numerous run-ins with chemistry (physical and otherwise) and I’m more than sure I’ll have many more in the future. The question is, when do you stay and fight for it and when do you walk away?
It’s been awhile since I’ve felt so down about a guy. I mean, really down. Like truly bummed and sad.
Despite looking fabulous in my little green party dress for the office holiday shindig and hooking up with Mr. Co-Worker, I still got the short end of the stick. I’ll spare y’all the details of the drama with his crazy– like she’s off her rocker– date who is now threatening him (to make a long story short). Because at the deep down grittiness of it, we can only be friends. Whether or not there’s a work policy against it and I’m pretty sure there’s not, he just needs time and space to deal with Crazy Girl and working together doesn’t help the situation.
There were too many awkward elevator moments with co-workers asking him in the guy-talk way how things went with hot Crazy Girl (while I stood there) and I didn’t want to play games and give him the cold shoulder. So I took the initiative and sent him a funny witty email about avoiding future awkward moments in enclosed spaces and breaking all “hurt girl” rules and going for a drink after work.
And we did and we talked and I was honest. Very honest, even after finding out that Crazy Girl is, well, crazy. And he was honest. Obviously, I’m leaving out a LOT of the details, but it is what it is. “Don’t sh-t where you eat” and all that nonsense, so no matter how strong the chemistry is (I think he likes me? There was never confirmation), I’m now stuck with just occasionally glancing at him when I look up and the few lunch gatherings with others.
Ugh, this one hurts. Bad. I really like this one. We had so much in common, more than any guy I’ve met (we both want to quit our jobs and travel the world; get the same random injuries like pinched nerves and sliced fingertips and remain ridiculously close to our childhood friends). And of course, there will be others and all that talk, but for now, I just want to mope and be heartachey about this one.
This is making me not want a relationship even more. Too draining!
After 10 months of not a single bit of action, even kissing, the planets have aligned for a bizarre few weeks.
This is a long one, folks. My life is actually interesting this week.
Part of selling my soul to the corporate world means going on actual business trips, including training for new hires. So when I found out that the attractive funny co-worker was also in our small group heading to Santa Monica, I was excited to finally have a conversation with him. Since we don’t work together, we never had a conversation; I wasn’t sure if he even knew I existed!
Long story short, when we started talking, I found that we had a lot in common, both in world views, careers and endless wanderlust. During the cocktail hour the first night, we would catch the other’s eyes across the crowd and grin at the awkwardness of meeting new people. As time went by, he went from checking his email while kneeling at the foot of the bed to sitting on the bed to lying on the bed. I would even go as far to say that we had become friends (phone numbers exchanged the first day as we walked along the beach eating ice cream).
And in all cases of conferences, the last night is always the biggest party of it all. Good food, all alcohol paid for and a group of employees happy not to be at work. At 2am, as the group settled in a pool cabana at the hotel, we wandered to our own and proceeded to talk for hours until he had relatively sobered up and about to fall asleep.
Fall asleep? Yeah, right. After hours, he finally made a move (after massaging my calf when I pulled a muscle) and sleepily ducked his head and mumbled that wanted to kiss me. So yes, at 4am on a cool fall night, I found myself making out with a co-worker (witty banter included) in a heated cabana by the pool. Neither one of us could stay awake much longer and after an embarrassing walk pass the cleaning crew and back down to fix my non-working room card, we both crashed hard.
As of now, no bad awkwardness. We agreed to keep it quiet to avoid an HR nightmare or being the tail end of gossip. Not being able to sit on this big of a story, I had to tell my closest girlfriends at work – I have 100% trust in them – and their reaction seemed to validate everything. Since all of them have boyfriends, their main reply was, “I’m so jealous! He’s so cute. And funny. And awesome (insert increasing number of exclamation points).”
As for the semantics, as much as I like him and would love to see where it goes, we DO work together and that’s an iffy situation. At the same time, it’s rare to meet someone and have such a connection. Either way, if it took him forever to kiss me, I can’t imagine how long it’ll take to ask me out (trust me, I’ve given him numerous opportunities). As tempting as it is to make the first move, I’m tired of always being the first to connect after a hook-up and getting no response and feeling defeated. Since I see him every day, my anxiety level on the situation is surprisingly slow since there’s no constant voice in my head wondering, “When will I see him again? What if he never talks to me again?.” So I’m going to take a breather and sit on this one and just let it roll. See how much I’ve matured? 
On the other hand, there’s Mr. One Night Stand (ONS), who as of last night, became Mr. TNS.
