Hey hormones! You suck!

Things continue to be on the up-and-up with Roseboy. The other night we had one of those amazing nights where we talked about our feelings, and got to admit how much we like each other.

Most of our statements were prefaced by the phrases: "I don't want you to think I'm a freak, but..." or "I'm probably going to scare you away, but..." It's funny to think that nowadays it makes you a freak to admit you would like a serious relationship, or it could scare someone away that you actually really like them. In the end, he said, jokingly, "Would you wanna be my few-week girlfriend?" I said, "Yeah. I wanna be your girlfriend."

So... I guess here are the stats as they now stand.

V, age 21 years.

• 2 serious boyfriends to date, 1 semi-serious, and 1 current something
  
• Lost virginity to one of them at age 19
  
• Had sex with 8 people in 2 years (Started this blog at 4 people)
  
• 5 out of 8 were one night stands, 1 out of 8 was an ongoing hookup, 2 involved feelings
• Have been involved in some way with: white Protestant guys, Irish Catholic guy, Italian guy, black guy, Moroccan guys, Spanish guys, Chinese guy, Jewish guy. (I enjoy collecting ethnicities.)
• Haven't felt this way about a person since: High School (I think...)

I guess when I get into a new relationship, I like to take stock of my history and, well, my dating "status" if you will.

Last night Roseboy and I went on our first real date. We got dinner together at a really neat place (he wanted to pay but I wouldn't let him) and then went to see a total guy-flick chock full of guns and explosions and punching (I let him pay.)

After the movie, he turns and says, "Wow. I really got lucky." I guess not so many girls like bad-ass shoot-em-up movies... but I do. I also like to have sex all the time, to give head, to play DDR naked... just about the only thing that keeps me from being the best girlfriend of all time is that I'm not a sports fan. But neither is he, so it works out.

After the movie, we went back to his place. We both had to get up early, so we budgeted about an hour for a fuck-fest and then I was gonna go home. But neither of those things happened quite right. For some incredible reason.. I wasn't in the mood. And no matter how determined I was to get something done, I just wasn't. And he could tell. And it was embarrassing.

He said all the right things, like "I don't expect anything," and "it's really okay, I like cuddling." But I hate it all the same. I wanted to fuck his brains out- not get all emotional and vulnerable in his arms. I wasn't ready to show him that much crazy just yet. But at the same time, all I wanted in the entire world was for him to hold me and brush back my hair and tell me everything was going to be okay......... when everything WAS ok!

There was absolutely NO REASON to feel that way- the night had been great, and my life is generally pretty flippin' awesome! Yet... I was sad, scared, and vulnerable. I HATE not being in control of my own emotions. It took me between 2 and 3 hours to leave. We did have sex though... really slow, regular, "tender" sex.

I checked the calendar this morning. My period should arrive today or tomorrow.

Fucker.