I've got a twelve sided die

Sangria

So I have a problem guys, and no, it doesn't really have anything to do with that glass, I just wanted to show you how pretty the white wine sangria Michelle made for last night was. The problem is, if a boy starts a conversation with "So I was watching Star Trek the other night and thinking of you..." and that leads to an hour long discussion of various episodes and seasons and series, and then that leads to discussing the darkness at the end of the David Tennant Dr. Who seasons, I'm probably going to sleep with him. And by "him" I really just mean Mark. I suppose if I knew other boys that wanted to stay up until four in the morning alternatively talking about crazy families, cats, Julia Child and science fiction TV shows, I would probably sleep with them too.

Actually, I'm not really sure what the problem is.

I had a really great time talking to Mark last night (the first time we had had any one on one time since he called things off) and then slept with him and now he's gone and I am ok with all of those things. I feel like I should have some sort of anxiety about what it means or what's going to happen next, and I just don't. So I guess the problem is that I'm not overthinking or overcomplicating things which is pretty much the best problem ever.

So that's awesome, and I probably still have a brain tumor. Or was replaced by an alien. Or something. Because I keep being ok with everything.

Everything is really fucking ok.