In Which I Let The "Girly Thoughts" Run Wild...

So, a few months ago, I told you all I had a date. One I was really excited about. And, I was right to be excited; we went used record shopping, and ate at Betty's, and talked and talked and talked, among other things. Here we are in January, and we're still dating each other. And, we're having a great time, when I look at the observable evidence. This is the post where I let my paranoia take over for a bit.

The last guy I dated broke my heart. I didn't want to admit it at the time, because we hadn't dated long. But he did. One of the big reasons why is that his intentions didn't match the "observable evidence". On the surface, we were a couple. We'd go out weekly, had lots of similar interests and background, and on his own admission, early on, we had deep connections neither of us expected. So, when he pulled the rug out from under me and said he couldn't be in a relationship with me, I was shell shocked. Because, as I said to him in the conversation we had about his fear, "if it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it's probably a duck", the duck being our "relationship". And this became an instance for me not to trust my instincts, once again.

The new guy is doing many things right. I'm used to a little more communication; however, I'm not used to meeting men who are completely capable of entertaining themselves when I'm not around, so I could be reacting to that. Because when we're together, we have a great time. I've already described his cool attributes, in that first post about our second date. He finds me very attractive, and smart, and digs my taste in music, and is impressed with my knowledge of wine. We both like fancy dinners (although our checkbooks don't), and have gone back and forth treating each other to them. Although, he wins, with the five course chef's tasting dinner we had before Christmas. Oh, and the Italian restaurant he took me to early on, that I could write sonnets about. He made me a cd; he'd been working on it from soon after we met. 125 songs, five songs by five bands, five times. And it's filled with bands that I'd heard of, but never listened to, and absolutely adore. Murder City Devils being one of them. They've reunited, and are playing New York the second week in February, and we keep hinting about going. He also happily agreed to go to Newbury Comics with my nephews earlier this week; my sister Colleen has given an initial stamp of approval; she wants to see more. So do I.

This is what I'm struggling with, biting my tongue on the , "where is this going?" conversation almost every time we see each other, which was twice this week. I'm sure many of my friends would tell me to just go with it, let it play out as it will. Which reminds me of the last time I tried that, and was blown over with a feather by someone else's cowardice. But at the same time, why shouldn't I just trust what's going on here? Why do I need to hear the words officially? I know I'm likely reacting to the burn I had this summer, but somehow I feel compelled to hear the obvious stated. I'm pretty sure we've past the point of using each other for sex; it's been months now. Plus, he wouldn't spend so much time still talking and wining and dining me if that were the case. He's not perfect, but he's a good match for me, at least at this point, from what I can see.

Part of me says stay on this path, don't rush things, time will reveal what's happening. And part of me just wants to know. I'm like that; I've always been like that. But, I'm terrified of fucking this up. So, I'll spill to my blog, and just enjoy Z for who he is.

Dear Hearts - Murder City Devils

MP3 File