dates, butterflies and boats

I went on a second date with the dude… he needs a name. We’ll see if I come up with something.  I had a nice time, we ate, went for a walk, had dessert, came here, kissed with minor make out.  It was nice, he’s nice. He’s also dorky and I’m not sure if his dorkiness can become endearing, so far, for the most part it isn’t.  He has his moments when he almost looks handsome but then he hunches and moves funny and the effect is lost.

This is interesting for me, to move at a slower pace but actually move.  I tend to be either yes or no.  Maybe this can be a good thing, maybe I can actually do this slow thing and let the butterflies come.  Or maybe not.  Maybe I’m just playing and waiting to have sex, lots of sex and that’s it. But maybe, just maybe.

Certainly not what I feel when I chat with Gris.  We just chatted for a bit.  Same adorable, hilarious, smart, complicated, transparent yet inscrutable guy that I fell in love with.  It sounds like he’s likely to still be there when I go visit in July.  We’ll go sailing, or so we say. I might have said this before, but I partly hope that he’ll already be gone.  Truth is, that’s just the fear of rejection speaking.  He mentioned coming – or better said – not coming as in, I should have gone.  There was vague talk about him still coming but I am not holding my breath on that.  I can’t hold my breath on anything with Gris, and yet, he takes my breath away.

I know, the second date dude will be from here on referred as Pearsons.