The End of Greek Guy

11 03 2013

It’s like the title says.

Greek Guy is no more.

I went to his place, we started cooking dinner. Then he wants to make out, and I was beyond not into it. His mouth was too wet and he kept moving it around too much and I just felt like I was getting slobbered on by a strange dog. He even gave me a massage, and the closest I got to a tingle was a little tension relief.

He is very sweet, but I don’t think that we would have gone anywhere when I had no desire to get physical with him. We might have made decent friends, but lovers? Not a chance in hell. I just wasn’t attracted to him. Sleeping with him because he treated me to dinners and treats and drinks, without really wanting to do it, would have made me feel like a prostitute. Or like I was being violated, because the most I could have done was get on my hands and knees and let him go at it.

So I put my shirt back on and we ate dinner, but then he pushed me against the wall. Now, that might have swayed the old me. A little physical dominance is pretty sexy. All I felt was panic, and I pushed him away. I told him we didn’t have physical chemistry, put my coat on. He offered to pay for a cab, but I wasn’t comfortable with that, so I took the train home.

I’m a little sad, because on paper he was great and I think he was sad that I left. But the rest of me? Feels free, and a little more confident, because he was entirely sane, good job, gentleman if a little too familiar-and he liked me. And I’m happy that I was confident enough to be able to say that I wasn’t comfortable, that I could walk away. So it’s all good.

And I’m surprised that I’m so okay with being single (well, not dating, I was still single, whatever), because I haven’t heard from BB in weeks at this point. So that little chapter is closed too. Oddly enough, it hasn’t crushed the travel bug in me. I want to see other countries again. Japan should be first, I think. Or second, because I want to be in the Caribbean more than anywhere else. With my new sexy body, I’m wearing size ten jeans right now and I am beyond happy about it. I also found a little dress in a thrift shop, size ten, and I look so smoking in it you’d think I was a house on fire. Wore it to a party on Friday and felt like I was being eaten up by people’s eyes. I worked hard for this body, so now I’m motivated to keep going. And I’ll live longer, and when I get older I will be able to maintain my weight because I’m used to exercising. I hope. I don’t want to get all fat when I’m old. Though I reserve the right to think about a tummy tuck and fixing my boobs if child bearing keeps me squishy.

Now, I have to check craigslist and maybe do another excel tutorial, so I bid you all good night!

Sincerely yours,





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