I got back from a whirlwind trip to Los Angeles on Tuesday morning. I would like to write about that, and I probably will soon — after I catch up on my work-related writing.
But in the meantime, I want to write about my struggle to stay cool. I ended my last post by saying that I am trying to stay cool. And I am.
It is just hard because… I think I dig this dude. And I’m not sure that I should dig this dude yet.
Our first date was nine hours long and we spent it at Oktoberfest. I met his family – they were also at Oktoberfest – and it wasn’t a big deal. They were nice.
We hugged. We haven’t kissed. We haven’t held hands aside from a part in a song (there were many gestures). We danced. We discussed stealing dogs, but we haven’t discussed sex.
We text daily. We kept in touch on our respective trips. You see, when I was in California, he was in Maryland being the best man in a wedding. He had actually invited me to be his date, but I declined due to my trip (plus, you know, that would have been something completely bananas to do).
I thought about him a lot on my trip, namely because he is a huge fan of roller coasters and The Muppets.
I say that I’m struggling to keep cool because I want to see him again. I want to send more texts. I want to ask, “Hey, I know this weekend is booked for both of us, but can you pencil me in for next weekend?”
And I might.
I suppose I just have my perpetual concern that I am too much.