Nothing ventured, nothing gained

This is one of those posts that I've restarted like ten times now because I don't know exactly what I want to say. Or more exactly, I don't know how I want to say it.

(Unrelated, I'm streaming the new Ryan Adams album on First Listen while I write this. I don't think I like it)

So there's this guy that I've been hooking up with every few weeks for the past few months and I really haven't written anything about it because he knows this blog exists which is why I either a) need to stop telling people this blog exists or b) stop sleeping with people I meet on the internet.

Anyways, that's not the point. Well it's kind of the point because it's making my writing self conscious.

There's this cute guy I like. And the problem is I really like him. Like not just fuck buddy, it's nice to see you every few weeks and have sex like him, but actually like him. I like just spending time with him like him. Kissing him? It's really good. Feel it in every inch of my body good. Please will you keep kissing me forever good. And at first, at first I was good and ok with the I'll see you when we have time and we'll hang out and it'll be fun and then you'll kiss me and oh my god (repeat repeat repeat).

And now, now I'm torn. Because it's not what I want. I mean, I've known the whole time that it's not exactly what I want but I was willing to live in the denial world of "I don't really have time for a real relationship anyways" (and have I mentioned that I really like him?). Sometime in the last month I stopped living in that world. Sometime in the last month I started to believe that if having a significant other was something I wanted, then I would make the time and I would do something about it. So I started actually responding to messages on OkC and putting to use my internet flirting skill which so far has meant a lot of talking with strangers on the internet about books and museums and one date. Last night.

It wasn't a bad date. Actually it was a pretty good date. It wasn't crazy, I don't have a good story. We drank beer, we talked, suddenly it was five hours later. He walked me to the train station (even though I then decided to walk home) and kissed me. And it was a good kiss (ok, couple of kisses). So the conversation was really solidly good and the kissing was also really solidly good and the having someone ask "when can I see you again?" also in the good category. And I'll probably go on another date with him.

But I just keep thinking about a few nights ago being snuggled up watching tv and being totally relaxed and comfortable with the other boy and yet still feeling electrified when he kissed me. I want that. But I want that with somebody that has the time and inclination to actually date me. No, actually I just want that. I want that, with that boy, more than twice a month. And I don't know if that's a possibility. I don't think it is. And that sucks.

(At this point, because neither of these boys have pseudonyms yet we're just going to start calling them boy #1 and boy #2 because I'm getting really confused trying to continue writing this.)

So instead I'm going to maybe go on another date with Boy #2 in hopes that it could develope into what I want. The problem is I clicked with Boy #1 about five minutes into meeting him and so I'm expecting that and that's not how it works most of the time.

And FUCK. Just Fuck. I hate dating. I hate adult relationships. I just want everybody, myself included, to be up front and clear. And I am totally a guilty party in not doing that. But whatever. I'm frustrated. And confused. And I hate it. I hate it. And part of me just wants to go back to being a drunken floozy because it's just so much easier. Because it requires no risk. But it also doesn't actually get me what I want. So that also kind of sucks. Though not as much as the other thing.

So.

Fuck.