38 Hours in Bed?
(NOTE: This was supposed to be published on Sunday, but I was experiencing technical difficulties.)
Since we last left off, I embarked upon a very intense, intimate, and tumultuous yet short-term relationship. I'm still recovering from it. It came on suddenly and yet is lingering oddly, no matter how done I want to be with it. We met, surprisingly, on Wednesday morning. We spent all day Thursday in bed together -- about 38 hours, actually. Scantily clad, sometimes sleeping, watching some TV, and sometimes writhing about. Friday morning, I finally kicked him out of my bed. Yet still his effects linger on even today. I think of him and my tummy gets all fluttery. Still, I want him gone. Gone completely.
His name? Norovirus Sydney. Yeah. The nasty, nasty, NASTY flu bug going around.
The two advantages of having the stomach flu (although technically the Norovirus isn't the flu) are that I'm sure I've lost weight and that I haven't given a single freaking thought to my love life. This is good, since my email to the most recent one, who I have not yet "named," seemed to go ignored or rejected or... whatever, he hadn't replied. Yet today when my phone went all "boing boing" as I was making dinner, I somehow knew it was him replying. Since we are now apparently conversing, I might as well "name" him for you.
Would you be surprised if he was another J? No? Of course not. This one will be JM. Remember when we were kids and you'd get an apple with a stem and twist it while saying the alphabet? I don't remember mine always breaking off at J, but perhaps it did.
JM's reason for not replying sooner? He thought he had, and only today realized he hadn't. To some, that may seem sketchy. To me, at this point, it seems perfectly legit, because I've done it more than once. If you are replying to a Match email via a mobile device, it's a two step process from typing to actually sending the email. You think you've sent it on its merry little way, but sometimes you haven't.
So that connection is continuing on, slowly, quietly. No big rush, but we are emailing, it seems. I'm happy enough for now.
Meanwhile, once again tonight I'm hearing from J3, the boy of the booty call. I've already shot him down. Why? Oh, let's see... I spent the past 4 days or so puking (among other lovely things) and I'm not 100% yet, nor is my house. And it's also shark week for me (and I don't mean shark week as in "shark attack" week). Been there, done that, and I think it's gross.
Tonight he'll have to settle for sexting, like it or not, and honestly I'm not really in the mood. I wonder if this is how a phone sex operator feels? I'm not in the mood at all, yet I can spin these erotic scenarios for a guy so he can get his rocks off. And let me remind you that when it comes to this guy, it is only about "benefits," period. If I were to never hear from him again, I'd have no regrets, but I wouldn't be missing him, either. I'm pretty sure he feels the exact same way about me, which makes this perfect for what it is.
Since we last left off, I embarked upon a very intense, intimate, and tumultuous yet short-term relationship. I'm still recovering from it. It came on suddenly and yet is lingering oddly, no matter how done I want to be with it. We met, surprisingly, on Wednesday morning. We spent all day Thursday in bed together -- about 38 hours, actually. Scantily clad, sometimes sleeping, watching some TV, and sometimes writhing about. Friday morning, I finally kicked him out of my bed. Yet still his effects linger on even today. I think of him and my tummy gets all fluttery. Still, I want him gone. Gone completely.
His name? Norovirus Sydney. Yeah. The nasty, nasty, NASTY flu bug going around.
The two advantages of having the stomach flu (although technically the Norovirus isn't the flu) are that I'm sure I've lost weight and that I haven't given a single freaking thought to my love life. This is good, since my email to the most recent one, who I have not yet "named," seemed to go ignored or rejected or... whatever, he hadn't replied. Yet today when my phone went all "boing boing" as I was making dinner, I somehow knew it was him replying. Since we are now apparently conversing, I might as well "name" him for you.
Would you be surprised if he was another J? No? Of course not. This one will be JM. Remember when we were kids and you'd get an apple with a stem and twist it while saying the alphabet? I don't remember mine always breaking off at J, but perhaps it did.
JM's reason for not replying sooner? He thought he had, and only today realized he hadn't. To some, that may seem sketchy. To me, at this point, it seems perfectly legit, because I've done it more than once. If you are replying to a Match email via a mobile device, it's a two step process from typing to actually sending the email. You think you've sent it on its merry little way, but sometimes you haven't.
So that connection is continuing on, slowly, quietly. No big rush, but we are emailing, it seems. I'm happy enough for now.
Meanwhile, once again tonight I'm hearing from J3, the boy of the booty call. I've already shot him down. Why? Oh, let's see... I spent the past 4 days or so puking (among other lovely things) and I'm not 100% yet, nor is my house. And it's also shark week for me (and I don't mean shark week as in "shark attack" week). Been there, done that, and I think it's gross.
Tonight he'll have to settle for sexting, like it or not, and honestly I'm not really in the mood. I wonder if this is how a phone sex operator feels? I'm not in the mood at all, yet I can spin these erotic scenarios for a guy so he can get his rocks off. And let me remind you that when it comes to this guy, it is only about "benefits," period. If I were to never hear from him again, I'd have no regrets, but I wouldn't be missing him, either. I'm pretty sure he feels the exact same way about me, which makes this perfect for what it is.
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