Move In

My wrist says OUTLAW POWER. Last night I drank two gin and tonics after a margarita and danced on a pole. I know he loves me. I never have to worry about that, and yet...a move like this, so quickly, after only three months -- WHAT IF I feel like I'm making myself so vulnerable, opening myself up to pain and I've had that. I'm no a real orphan, starving or anything like that, but I've had a life.

Do I trust this man not to hurt me? It says so much, how he treats his exes...he's sweet and wonderful and NICE, and everyone knows it. What if he leaves me? It's been eight months since Ethan and twenty-five since my dad, and this is a choice for me to make. He's in this. He makes bad jokes, but he loves me, crazy and all. I have to decide if I trust him enough to make this situation, this absurd set of circumstances, official. I know I love him because it would hurt so badly if he were gone. Although, is that how one defines love? He makes me happy, and I don't get tired of him. I can't imagine I ever would, but I fear that he will me. It's absurd. I want this. Through all three months I've screamed my fear and rushed headlong and sometimes tripped on my own laces and he's always caught me. He's there. He loves me. I don't have anything to fear. Just fall. He'll catch me.

Three Days

Friday he learned I take every challenge offered. The office was full and quiet, so I had him come by and spent perhaps a half-hour sitting on his lap and talking in my boss's office. Just as things were winding down he made an offhand comment about sex in an office, and I took that as an invitation to close the door and unzip my dress.

The look on his face was beautiful, and he hurried to zip me up again. So I spent the next ten minutes or so teasing him, and then the whole way to the car murmuring my intentions, once we were home. The car ride was spent grazing my teeth along his finger pads and sucking on his earlobe. Even in bed I refused to strip; rather, I took the opportunity to pin him to the bed naked and kiss every inch of him with an eye for erogenous zones.

Needless to say the sex was mindblowing, and I was rather pleased his roommate had gone out of town, because I wouldn't have liked to keep those screams to myself.

Saturday I met his sister and friends, and made an impression such that she sent to his phone shortly afterward, "Judging complete. We'll be very angry if you screw things up with her." He went out with friends to the bars, and woke me up when he got in because he wanted to talk to me before he went to sleep. There was much more, but some trading of "I love you"s happened here.

Sunday we listened to music, after a short attempt at studying. The culmination was in this song, which he says is his song for me.

I liiiiiiike him.

Pretty sure I saw Hardy in public yesterday when I was walking to meet Hot Rod. I looked good, dressed to the nines and wearing a fedora, and I was grinning like an idiot because, well, I was going to meet Hot Rod. I'd left my purse in his car, and he'd stopped by especially to bring it to me, and nothing makes me grin quite so much as a sexy man on a sunny day. Anyway, it just made me think, I was looking for a human connection back when Hardy happened, and I realize now -- maybe because I'm arse over teakettle for Hot Rod -- that I was never going to have the sort of connection I was looking for with him.

Last night the fella and I snuggled half-naked on his living room couch and watched Silkwood and drank Sprite and ate kettle corn and kissed and then I bolted to the bedroom in my underwear when the roommate came home, and then passed out on his bed. Dunno how that happened, but a guy who'll kiss me lightly then curl into bed with me because he doesn't want to wake me up, and with whom I'll laugh and joke until we're both late and still don't want to get out of bed and he'll give me three goodbye kisses when he drops me off at class, and we're supposed to grab lunch today just because...jeez, well, he's some kind of guy.

Flan

So things are going really, really well. It's assumed at this point that we'll spend the night together, though not that we'll have sex -- which is kinda lovely, if you think about it for any time at all. I've got a pretty regular sleep schedule because he does and I get morning kisses and -- yeah, it's magic. Last night, though, we were talking about things we liked, and there were all sorts of other foods - bagel sandwiches and ham sandwiches and salt and vinegar chips -- and the we were talking desserts we loved, like bear claws, and he said, "You're like flan. Sweet, and I love you, and a soft skin -- yeah, flan has skin..." and I was way too caught up on that middle bit, which apparently he said without thinking, but now "Flan" is this joke, somewhere between a tease about a misspeak and "I love you, too." I guess we'll see where it goes. I really don't think I'm ready to say those words, not at this point, but, shit, just read this exchange:

Me: Dresses?

Hot Rod: :D

Me: Pizza?

Hot Rod: :D

Me: Dancing barefoot in the dark with no-one else around except maybe me. And probably kissing.

Hot Rod: :D !

Me: Thin paintbrush doodling on skin with washable paint then kissing in the shower and watching color run everywhere.

Hot Rod: <3

Me: Kissing in the elevator in the middle of the day - then looping the moment so we never have to say goodbye.

Hot Rod: :)

Me: Pitching a tent by the lakeside and laughing at the rocks in our backs and curling up naked to keep warm.

Hot Rod: I miss you :(

Lassen

He makes me want to wash dishes, to shave my legs and make my bed and cook jasmine rice and ginger chicken because the idea made him smile.
He makes me want to wrap my arms around him, curled under the covers naked in his bed.
I like the way he rests a hand against my back when we're walking through a store or along the street together. I like how he'll wrap his fingers in mine a little unevenly and just leaves it that way because it's not the placement of fingers that's right, but just that we're  wrapped up together.

He makes it really hard to take things slow, but I'm listening to this song on repeat, so we'll see, right?

I don't want to (This is the sound of falling)

I don't want to fall in love. It's painful, and messy, and just leaves you with scars and alcoholic tendencies. But I do want:

to dance in the dark
to kiss him up against walls until his fingers crawl under my shirt, slip against my back and pull me in tighter
until we fit together so well I want to hold onto the moment to infinity
to watch Star Trek with him and make jokes about Data and
drink tea that's too hot
and talk about the amazing chai at the bagel shop
and hold hands just because
touch anytime we're close
and smile because he's there, or he's not there
but I think
(he tells me)
he's thinking of me.

Yeah, I don't much like sleeping alone. Just sayin'.

Songs

In a conversation with Pink the other day we discussed relationship songs, and it made me think of the ones that make me think of men:

Arch

Turkic

Finn

Hot Rod

Yeah, feel free to judge. It's alright. I'm sick, so I'll blame this on Nyquil if it comes down to it.