I had company this weekend, so no time to blog. Then, thanks to the reliability that is blogdrive, on two seperate occasions I sat down to create an entry and the damn site wouldn’t load. Grrr. So now, I’m behind again. I hate when that happens because my entries turn into a novel-length rambling mess.So Dr Honeydew came back to town last Friday. All I can say is, “What was I thinking?!” Why did I even entertain the thought that there might be something more there after feeling just the opposite after our first “meeting”?? I think the whole vacation bliss was in effect in San Diego. That plus the wine plus the jazz band. I was putty.
After spending the weekend in intermittent bouts of silence with him, I can honestly, and with conviction, say that I have ZERO interest in this guy as anything more than a friend. Don’t get me wrong….we had fun at times. But mostly, everything we did, I could’ve done by myself and been just as entertained. I’ve never in my life sat through dinners or lunch that were soooo…..quiet. For three days, that’s what it felt like. And after awhile, I gave up on trying to start conversation and amused myself by making up conversations for other people (in my head, of course). I kept thinking, we talk all the time online or on the phone. What’s the deal? But then I realized, most of the time, that’s me talking. And I’m tired of talking about everything and nothing just to not have to sit there silently and pretend like that is perfectly normal.
I’m being harsh…but only because the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. I’ve gotten myself good and wound up about it now so I’m not being rational or kind. I’m venting. Take it as such…..
Mainly I’m annoyed with myself because I went the less confrontational route. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but, at least a dozen times I wanted to yell, “Do you have ANYTHING to talk about?!?!” That coupled with being made to feel like a guest in my own fucking house. I don’t need you up my ass making dinner together. Turned into him making dinner. We’re not a fucking couple. I don’t need help loading the dishwasher. And I sure as hell don’t need you standing there staring at me while I do it. Sure, he’s nice. Sure, he’s a good friend. But that’s all we will ever be. I am not convinced he’s grasped that yet though. You’d think that since the only times I’m ever physical with him are after lots of drinks and in the dark would be a clue. But no, according to him, that’s just my true feelings coming out. In vino veritas, my ass.
We went out to the Wildflower Festival Saturday and I got to see part of Jonny Lang’s show, which was cool. But it was so freaking hot and there was no shade anywhere near the stage, so we didn’t stay long. Got semi-dressed up after that and went to dinner and then Humperdinks. I can’t name one single conversation that we had the entire night…because there wasn’t one. Just stupid shit like, “how’s your eye?” or “how’s your food?” I wasn’t miserable or anything, because I can do as Depeche Mode suggests and “Enjoy the Silence.” But then for him to say what a great time he had with me…..I’m just stunned.
And what happened that night just reaffirmed everything I have been thinking since the beginning. Sure, the first time he was here we had a lot more sex. But what can I say…it had been awhile and I was drunk and horny. This time, one night. And that was enough. I just can’t make myself get into him. Especially knowing that he thinks we should be together. He is a decent kisser though.
Oh! And then Sunday we ended up going to shoot pool We had a deal that the loser was buying. And since he had paid for every damn thing all weekend, including stuff for my house (that’s just creepy to me), I was determined to pay for our drinks and pool. So, while not purposefully losing, I certainly didn’t make any attempt to win either for the first several games. After being down 3 games to 0, I figured I could redeem myself a little. Later we were tied at 4 games each and I said we had to play one more because we couldn’t end in a tie. And what does he do? He tells the damned waitress to put our tab on his card. I’m like, NOOOO! We had a deal. That pissed me off. And of course, I ended up losing that game because I was too pissed to shoot the last couple of shots. He kept saying, “It’s no big deal,” but to me it was.
Ugh. I feel guilty just typing this now. Knowing me, I’ll probably edit it later to tone it down some. Why do I get so wrapped up in not hurting someone else’s feelings that I completely ignore my own?