What Am I to You?

Seriously, so sorry to be so neurotic, but this is driving me nuts. So, since we seem to dance around the subject, an open letter to Liquid Chocolate Eyes, since you seem to run away every time the discussion might turn to feelings.

Dear LCE,

I know that our first date was over a month ago. It was a pretty good one as dates go. You stuck around for 8 hours and didn't even try to make a move. I appreciated that. And you put up with my jealous dog pacing and whining and barking. That was definitely a plus. I thought "what a nice guy!"

Our second date was a couple of days later. You were just passing through. It was supposed to just be coffee. You ended up staying for 38 hours. I felt a bit trollopy (is that a word?), because my rule of thumb is 3 months before a sleepover. But it was so awesome and fun (and not just THAT, but the time spent out of bed) that I decided to forgive myself.

After the second date was when I tried to raise the issue of us continuing to be on the dating website that brought us together. I must admit, I royally effed up that conversation. It led you to say "I think you should do whatever you think is right." Which was not the answer I was looking for. But you have to understand, I have intimacy that is attained only at the 3 month mark on a second date, and I have no idea what the hell I am supposed to be doing.

So I saw you again. And again, it was no hit and run situation. You hung out for more than a day, and we had so much fun. Watching movies, driving in the country. I thought "ok, I should probably just relax and enjoy this and not analyze it."

Then, in an awkward moment, you and I were online on the dating website at the same time. In truth, I usually just go on there to see if you have been on there. There are very few people that are actually viable options. I am just being snoopy. You approached me on instant message, and it seemed as though you might be jealous. After conferring with Squirrel and Squirrel Dater, I decided to send you an email saying that I didn't want to date anyone else at this particular time, and that, while I couldn't control what you did, that I wasn't comfortable for long with us sleeping together while you pursued other women, if that was, in fact what you were doing.

Your response to this email? Well, you have not, to date, actually acknowledged receipt of same. Doesn't that kind of make you a dick? I think it does.

So I try to ignore the dickishness of this, because after a couple of days, you are back talking to me, although we don't see each other for a couple of weeks because of our schedules and the distance between us. The problem is that I need daily contact from the person with whom I am knocking boots, and I ain't getting it. And this is making me grumpy, although I try to play it cool with you. "Ain't no big thing, sugah."

So, since you don't seem to be in a big rush to see me again, I finally suggest that you take me to a movie. Since the movie theatre sucks in my town, that means we have to go to the one in your town. The whole way to your house I am rehearsing my speech about how I just can't do this anymore. I won't chase you. I hate that you feel the need to chase other women. This is it. No more.

And yes, I know that I may have, over lunch one day, told you that I broke up with my last boyfriend because he was too clingy (I was in the middle of a home invasion trial and wasn't thinking very clearly), but that does not excuse you actually ignoring texts and instant messages from me when I can clearly see you have time to go on the dating website.

When I get to your house (nice house, by the way), I walk in and you smile sheepishly. "I was trying to make you dinner and cheesecake, and it isn't working", you say helplessly. We manage to salvage the cheesecake and we eat that and drink wine for supper. We go to a movie. You stroke my leg in the movie, hold my hand. My resolutions go out the window, and the bargaining begins again. "Do players go to the trouble of making you supper and cheesecake from scratch? Maybe he is just a social retard, Killer...."

We go back to your place, and things are so easy between the two of us. At midnight, we pile into your truck and giggling the whole way, hit a donut drivethru. We drive around your city, talking about everything, go back to your place, fall asleep in each other's arms. I leave for work the next day, and you look disappointed when I kiss you goodbye. You text me later saying that you had a wonderful time, and that you hope we see each other soon.

In the next week and a half, you put no effort into seeing me. I know you are working, but we only live an hour from each other. But more importantly, once again you are putting little effort into talking to me, you are still active on that fricking website asking women out, and you are NOT asking me out again. I feel like I have to chase you down to talk to you at all.

So last night we text back and forth. I ask you whether you know whether any new movies are coming out this weekend, and you text back "I have no idea!". So this morning I texted you "well I was trying to hint that you should take me to one, but since you are choosing not to take the hint, I'll go with plan b - other plans :) "

Your failure to observe minimum standards is driving me nuts. And just when I think "Eff this, I am moving on", you pull one out of the fire, Mr. Cheesecake. But Mr. Cheesecake, relaxing my standards is simply driving me crazy. When we are together, I feel certain that this means something to you too. When we are apart, and it seems that I cross your mind rarely, I think that you are just playing me, and I mean very little. It's crazy making, and I keep thinking I better walk away before I get hurt.

Who are you Mr. Cheesecake, Mr. LCE??? Why can't we just talk about this? Why are boys so stupid? Gack.

Yours truly,

Killer

P.S. I miss you.

P.P.S. I think I might be messing this up by being neurotic.