Chapter 16: Is this something?

I had teased "Mickey" about the fact that he didn't even have to take me out to dinner to get lucky. And after he left that night, I questioned myself, my morals, and my own actions. What did I do? Hadn't I learned my lesson yet? Granted, I hadn't exactly been sleeping with every guy I'd met, but the countless encounters I'd had with no follow up phone calls and disappearing acts should have been a giant neon sign that said "GET A CLUE!"

But then my conscious went into a different mode. What was I worried about? I hadn't been totally sure that he was someone I wanted to get involved with anyway. I was horny, I wanted to get laid, and I did. It would be nice if he called, but if he didn't, would it really bother me? The truth was: not particularly.

But to my surprise and delight, he called. The very next day. Very nice - show a little class - points for "Mickey!" I think I mentioned previously that there was some drama going on in other aspects of my life, which doesn't have a whole lot of bearing on my dating world, so I won't bother illustrating it. But "Mickey" earned a lot of points with me by picking up on the fact that I was distracted by other things and wanted me to talk about it. I didn't really feel like telling him, and I never really did, but his consistent offers to listen if I wanted to talk, or even just to give me a hug if I needed it, were very comforting. I actually kind of liked it. Having a man be concerned about me, even making an effort to be around - WITHOUT the obvious ulterior motive of getting laid at the end of the night. Color me: "Impressed!"

A couple of days later, and I was still receiving a once a day phone call. It was nice. I was feeling particularly lonely one evening when he called, so an invite to his house was welcome. He didn't imply anything more than offering me a drink of a special liqueur he had recently obtained, and maybe hang out and watch some TV. Quality cuddle time! So I went over.

And that's exactly how it happened. We had a few drinks, talked, kissed, and cuddled. But I wanted more... and I let him know that. I needed to be wanted, and loved, and it didn't take long before we ended up in his bedroom. I didn't go over there to have sex with him that night, but it was exactly what I needed. And as I drove home that night, I began to question myself. Was this me falling for someone? Or was it just my desperation to have someone pay attention to me? He had some red flags that bothered me, and he wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, the man of my dreams. Was my vulnerable state of desperation setting myself up for heartbreak or, more likely, was I setting HIM up to have his heart broken by me? Was I just using him because he was paying me a little bit of attention? Or was this how relationships start?

Maybe I could just let this one ride for a little bit and see where it was going. Easier not to over-analyze it and let it either grow or wither on its own.