I believe in dialogues, not monologues. in On loves.

Twenty minutes after sending that text (see previous entry), he calls me. I don't answer. Shortly after I receive the following text:

"I can't sleep knowing how badly this upset you. I think if we talk it over you'd realize that my intentions are nothing like you're assuming, and that I have a perspective as well. I believe in dialogues, not monologues...will you please call me back?"

Twenty-four minutes later, this text:

"I've enjoyed our time together and it would be tragic for it to end abruptly over what's essentially a misunderstanding. I'll leave the ball in your court."

I respond at noon today:

"I think guys sometimes don't realize how vulnerable girls feel physically, and a joke that might otherwise be funny can, in a particular setting, fail.

Unfortunately, my response to situations that make me uncomfortable is to retreat. I wish you the best."

Immediately, he texts back:

"I think you're right. I thought you knew me well enough to know that I'd never harm you physically (or anyone else for that matter) but there must have been something in the context that triggered fear in you. It's a shame, because the other 99% of our time together was great.

I wish you'd call me so we could talk it over like adults, and at a minimum end things with mutual respect."

I think about this for a while. I realize that there are a lot of unspoken accusations on his part: 1. I simply misunderstood him. 2. Something triggered fear in me - too bad I had that response. 3. I am not being an "adult" in my refusal to communicate via phone call.

I also noticed that he never apologized. No "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable." No, "I'm sorry for joking about raping you. That was inappropriate." No "I'm sorry for not being more respectful." No "Sorry for being pissed and rather than 'talk about it like adults' I was cold and sent you a snappy 'Goodnight' text after you left."

I don't sleep well. I dream about Dolce, and for the first time it was a lucid dream. I have lucid dreams (where you realize in your dream that you're dreaming and then control where the dream goes) fairly often. EVERY single time, the moment I realize I'm dreaming, I turn the dream into something wildly sexual. When I figured out I was dreaming last night, my first thought was to make it a sexy dream, but then I realized my dog was there. All my dreams of her involve her being just out of reach, of me searching for her, trying to find her. I knew it was a dream, but it felt like a gift. I scratched behind her ears, snuggled her like crazy, love that silly little dog who has been dead for 3.5 years. It's the best.

I sleep until almost noon and feel emotionally drained all day. Normally, I think of myself as being so resilient. When strangers, even creepy strangers, tell me I'm pretty on the street - even though I know a lot of girls get offended or put off by that - I feel a little flattered. I spend the day trying to analyze my emotions. Am I overreacting? Being dramatic? I realized early on in the night that this wasn't going to work, I shouldn't see him again. We were halfway through Hunger Games 2 and I was thinking about how I'm so picky, how I should go to a therapist and say, "Here is this great guy - he's emotionally available, has depth, success, likes me, was on the cover of a goddamned magazine for christs sake - and I don't want to date him because I don't feel 'chemistry.'" Was my reaction to his behavior so strong because I was subconsciously trying to push him away? Would I have been so upset if he was more attractive?

I'm still trying to figure it out and process it. I wish I still had my therapist. I haven't exactly been on the verge of tears all day, but somewhere along that vein. When I try to analyze it pragmatically, I figure it must have something to do with the fact that nobody has ever made me do something while I was forcefully saying, "No."

Actually. No. What upset me most, I think, was after I left his room I went into the living room and put on my shoes and jacket. I waited for him to come out, to try to kiss me again, to sit on the couch, to have a conversation. It took him a good five minutes to come out, and I think he was expecting that I'd be gone. He lowered the shades, asked if I wanted him to walk me to my car. I said no, that it was just around the corner. I fumbled with the lock on the door as he stood across the room, not trying to give me a hug goodbye, just clearly pissed. "Well, see ya later," I said.

That's what bothered me the most, I think. That he not only didn't respect my boundaries, but was pissed off at me for not being willing to do more than I'd said I was comfortable with.

How's this for foreshadowing: I had a first date earlier in the day that I wore a skirt to. I hesitated about wearing a skirt for my date with Rapey above, since he'd been a little handsy in the past when I wore a dress.

"Don't be silly," I told myself. "Wear a skirt. You can say no."

Reason #37 why I can never marry Tuesday Night Dinner Date: After I relay the events of last night to him, his response is to remind me that girls often say no when they mean yes and that my sense of humor kind of asks for people to make rapey jokes. His solution is for me to move back to Oregon so he can rape me (har har).