Careening in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

  • July 28, 2006, midnight
  • |
  • Public

Okay, okay. Here’s what’s been going on. I am caught in a whirlwind of lusty goodness…strangeness…whateverness. Today it seems to be okay. I may just be starting to allow myself to enjoy this. Or at least not be completely psycho about it.

Tuesday night was weird, to put it mildly. It started innocently enough…we were meeting for drinks and I was nervous because I wanted to have the “back off” talk with him. He had come on so strong after we’d spent those nights together that it freaked me out quite a bit. He’s very much into togetherness, and you know me—solo for the past six years! So of course, I felt completely thrown off. But not only that, his persistence was eerily reminiscent of LDL’s when we first started dating. So I was getting these creepy deja-vu vibes.

I’d already had a glass of pink champagne (hee!) before he got there, so when he showed up I was feelin’ the tickle of the bubbles. And he looked so scrumptious…the hottest guy in the place, BY FAR. So I had this silly combination of nervous giggles and trying-to-be-serious game-face and it was so hard to have a cohesive conversation when what was coming out of my mouth did not match the way my eyes were undressing him.

We were sitting in this sweet little patio area on this kind of lounging couch with pillows everywhere. It was a beautiful night…he was hot…more and more and more pink bubbles… And before I knew it, I was unbuttoning his shirt right there and kissing him all the way down to his belly button. Yep. In public.

What has come over me?!

We had to go. Right. Then. And remember, it was back to my place? So to my place we went—and before I could even figure out what was going on, he was telling me that he wanted to leave. And he was pissed. And I couldn’t figure it out because I was dee-runk and half asleep and slurring my words and trying to pull him back inside so he could tell me what had just happened.

Apparently, things had gotten hot and heavy and then I’d simply pushed him off of me and rolled over to go to sleep. Ouch.

Things then went from bad to worse because he wanted to leave, and we’d taken my car back to my place (left his at the bar) and there was NO WAY I was driving anywhere. Sure, he could’ve taken a cab if he really wanted to, but at that point I was begging and pleading and fake-crying (um?) and throwing a tantrum. I even threw myself on the floor like a three-year-old…!

I have never done ANYTHING like that before. Normally, my MO is to be like, fuck it…get the fuck out if you don’t like it. So…what is up with my behavior?!

How mortifying.

He stayed. But he was not happy about it. And in the morning we talked a little and I was embarrassed and ashamed and still kinda drunk. I wasn’t giving him excuses, but my explanation to him was that I thought I might be trying to sub-consciously sabotage our relationship before it ever went anywhere because it is so incredibly intense and I don’t know if I can handle it. And he basically told me that we should get over it and let’s put it behind us and not try to analyze the whole thing to death.

And so when I saw him last night, he looked more amazing than ever, and he was sweet and kind and gentle with me. We had sushi and looked into each others’ eyes and were completely lovey-dovey. Then back to my place for a nightcap and some lovin’ and now I’m afraid that I’m hooked.

It’s hopeless. I’m 100% gone. And even though this ride feels like it’s careening, it’s wildly exciting and I’m on board regardless. Crash or smooth sailing, I’m hanging on for a while.


Last updated February 15, 2026


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