Laundry Day

Am I really into this guy? He makes me nervous, sure, but he doesn't inspire Wannajumpimitis. He's admitted that he's awful at quote-talking-to-girls-endquote. I guess in the back of my mind I wonder if he won't be terrible in bed, or whatever this thing that I can't name or place, will fade as I get to know him better. I could live without him, I guess, although the excitement of the next date has held me in its thrall so far. Am I just using him? It's been a week and I'm worried about fucking things up with him. But I guess I've had such a messy summer that I'm living like I've got nothing to lose -- and I guess we'll see what comes of that. Hot Rod is magnificent, but he's a stranger. I really need to spend some time getting to know him -- and maybe that's the difference between Hot Rod and the other guys I've slept with (although he's not really a member of that group yet): I knew all of them (except Turkic, but we'd been talking daily for a week prior). So maybe my hesitance is natural, and familiarity-based.

Sure we've talked on the phone for now twelve hours, plus eight in each others' presence, but that's admittedly not much. I'd like to kiss him some more, to trace his chest hair and find out his least-favorite body party, so that I can compliment it to death. I want to get him drunk and kiss him everywhere except the mouth. I'd like to play the naughty schoolgirl to his beleaguered teacher. To teach him to dance. I'd like, at some point further down the road, to admit the ten people I've kissed, and the stories behind them.  To talk about the time I maybe cheated on a guy, and my worst break-ups. And how it all happened the summer before I asked him out. I'd like to get his history, collapse in a sweaty mass beside him, and race him to the shower. I want, and I don't know why, but but I really hope he wants too.

Jeez. Is it just that he's a guy, or that he's Hot Rod? Is it more than his goofily white grin and glasses? I feel like  I'm not allowed to talk about sex, that I'll chase him off somehow or make it all about sex even before  we've gotten there -- God I hope I don't fuck this one up, too.