I saw Hot Cop for all of 45 minutes.  He was sore after basketball and wasn't up to hiking for very long.  We left with the "hug and pat".  I doubt we will ever see each other again. No Loss.

Yacht Boy texted me all morning.  Man, he is really pushing hard.  He gave me a peck on the lips good night when I saw him, and then he went in for a bigger kiss, but stopped and said, "What's that face?"  I have no poker face.  No one leaves a room in doubt about the way I feel.  The look on my face at the time?  Probably horror and dread.  He went in for it anyway, and I made sure it was short and not very sweet.

He called last night to see what my plans were.  I'll give him one more chance and if I really can't stand him, then we'll have the talk.  The funny thing was, I had told him initially that I was seeing someone and that he and I would just hang out as friends.  He said it was fine, but he still wanted me to see this Stone Roses DVD he had.  Later, Crafty told me that NO man goes over to a girl's house with a DVD with no expectations.  That was kinda shocking to me.  Really?  Hmph...

Back to Crafty.  So he texted yeaterday after my crying jag.  How are you, what are you doing today, bullshit like that.  And then he writes, "Let me just say this. Go about your day knowing that I think about you all the time and I can't wait to see you again".  Sigh.  I told him to stop, that it was that kind of talk that made me feel all warm and squishy inside, and that I wanted to be stronger than that.  That I needed to not feel so close, because I didn't want to get hurt.  He said okay.  Hopefully he gets that he can't have it both ways.

I ask him how his day is going and he tells me all this medical BS he has to go through.  His leg brace is failing and he needs it fixed, but they are pulling his insurance.  And then he writes,

C: Do you really want to deal with a man who might be in a wheelchair later in life?
Me: Do you really think that would bother me?  Limp. Wheelchair. I don't fucking care. You'll still be you.  That's all that matter, dummy
C: Others have cared.  It's heavy.
Me: Stop.  Just stop. I am not another girl.  I know who I am and what I want.  I will always be honest with you. And it was YOU that I liked from the beginning.  The rest is decorative.  It's YOU, fool.  And life is heavy.  It's the loved ones that make it lighter.
C: true


Damn skippy it's true. What's the hell kind of harpies had he dealt with in the past?  Well, looking at my history, I guess we don't date winners all the time.

He asked if he could come over and I said yes.  We watched the sun set over the Santa Monica Mountains as we sat on my couch.  It was quiet and lovely.

After a while, we cracked open a bottle of wine and started to talk.  At one point he mentioned that he worked for a non-for profit when he first moved here.  "Really?  I did't know that".

"There's alot you don't know about me", he said.  "You see, getting to KNOW each other"

I got up and walked to the kitchen.  He was right, but just the way he said it--it was so bitchy.   I didn't want to go into a reaction, so I got myself a glass of water.  He followed me and we continued to talk after a bit.  The old me would have chewed him out for being snippy, and to be honest, for pointing out a fact that I knew was right but didn't want to believe.  The me now avoided that and cooled down.  I hope the future me will see the veracity of his statement immediately and listen without judgement or reaction.  Crap, I have alot of work to do!

So we ordered dinner and talked some more.  He told me so much about himself.  He said he's been known as a "tough nut to crack", but I found that if I just shut my mouth, he would go on and on.

After dinner, he came down with a bad headache.  He had been nursing one since the last time I saw him on Saturday.  His accident makes him prone to migraines and cluster headaches, which are rare and completely debilitating.  So I turned off the lights and rubbed his head till he fell asleep.  Eventually I had to wake him so we could move to bed.  We laid there on our sides, facing each other, lighting kissing one another's face and lips.  I would drift off and then wake up with him kissing me and looking at me, then he would close his eyes and fall asleep while I was kissing him.  Disgusting, right?  Re-reading that makes the cynical side of me want to puke, but there is a little part of my heart that will always hold that memory dear.  At some point, we both woke up and started kissing more firmly and deeply.  It went from sweet to hot faster than a souped up corvette.  Damn, even with the headache, the boy can perform.  Play through the pain, Holla!

I had to leave early this morning but wished I could stay.  His body feels so nice against mine.  I tell him how cuddly he is.  "It's cuz I'm chubby" he says.  But he's not.  It's because his skin stays dry (I hate clammy, blech), he's just the right temperature and when I squeeze him he squeezes me back.  At the end of my marriage, I remember there being acres of space between me and my husband.  I dreaded the thought of him touching me.  I hope to never be in that position again.  If there is someone in my bed, I damn sure better want to hold him.  Or else get the hell out!

I don't know what, if anything, was resolved with Crafty.  But last night was good.  I got to know much more about him.  So far, it hasn't completely freaked me out.  In fact, it really endears me to him.  Okay with one exception.  He drove a Camaro before he moved here.  A CAMARO.  Now I don't know about you, but no one in my home town drove a Camaro unless he was a date rapist or in the midst of a mid-life crisis.  A Camaro.  I almost kicked him out of my house right then and there!

Anyway, I have to go slowly.  Instead of fighting the current, for once I should just see where it takes me.  It's just that the last two relationships sucked so hard, and I see shades of them in this one.  Here and there, a warning sign will pop up and it makes me crazy.  But trust, right?  I have to trust that this is a different person and that any relationship that we might have will be completely unique to us.  It's a fine line to walk between naive and trusting, guarded and bitter.  I want to walk this line, but the fear of falling is overwhelming.