Not, I repeat NOT a date



So this evening I went on an eight-hour “non-date” with an oilman from Texas. I kept telling myself, oh, this is soooo totally *not* a date, yeah… it’s not, nooo, NOT a date. Just showing an out-of-towner around the “delights” of my home town. But it was. And it went well, really well, but it pushed all my buttons with regards ease of physical closeness. AK.

“Head Frack” (he’s a petroleum engineer) is over here for a couple of weeks before he heads back to the States and will return next year for a longer term placement. I greatly enjoyed the evening and the time passed easily, except when he was paying me compliments and I felt like I wanted to curl up and die under the spotlight. Massive, MASSIVE amounts of over-sharing occurred. He liked what he heard and saw and was not shy about expressing himself. Gulp.

He was nothing but respectful with regards my boundaries but clearly was rather taken with me. I would yelp when he tried to hold my hand – I have a “thing” about hand-holding – and I felt slightly under siege from all his attentions. First non-date, people! Now my head is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, with not much decision-making actually occurring. I need some time to ponder and not actually freak out.

Am I all “akimbo” because someone, anyone is showing some interest in me, and so anything further is a majorly bad idea way outside my comfort zone? Or…?

Fear and desire are most definitely holding hands. Ick.

I’m not very good at giving or receiving compliments – this is the case in both my personal and professional lives – and I found it hard to deal maturely with the attention he was giving me. There was a “hi-larious” amount of awkward laughing and squirming about on my end, which, of course, he then found “adorable”. I couldn’t win. Also, I am usually very standoffish and cautious with regards men and physical expressions of affection and/or desire, so I am hugely confused as to what I actually want.

Do I believe half of what he says? Does that even matter, as, fuck it, he appreciates stockings and is in the country for only a few more days.

Hmmmmmmmmm…

Also, he’s pretty keen to see me this week. Too keen? Again, does that matter?

Hmmmmmmmmm…

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