So, my “first date” happened with The Charmer last night.
The reasons why first date are in inverted commas are because the date consisted of me spending the night at his house. Hardly conventional. And something I’ve never done before. It started off innocently enough: we ordered pizza, ate in his swanky apartment on his polished granite countertop in his steel-and-birch kitchen, we joked around, me in my jeans and t-shirt, him in his sweats and ball cap. Drank some wine, had a cocktail, cuddled and watched t.v…. and you can fill in the rest.
It was OK. Not great, but OK.
Why not great? Because the guy seriously is neurotic. He self-confessed when I first met him, and I understood more of his neurosis when in his space. He is a clean freak, and is constantly adjusting, cleaning, organizing, Putting Things In Their Place. I washed a cup I’d used with soap and water and placed it to dry in the sink. He noticed it drying, upside-down, and washed it again, with soap and water, then put it in his dishwasher. Any time he used the kitchen or I did, he’d tidy up afterward, wiping down surfaces, rearranging items, making things just right. He’d wipe down the kitchen sink with a paper towel so there would be no water spots any time we used it.
It started to make me really nervous. I wasn’t sure what was allowable and what wasn’t. At one point I wasn’t sure whether it was OK for me to place my ice-filled cocktail glass on my coaster on the granite counter-top, and asked for permission. The Charmer responded with an “Of course! Mi casa es su casa” kind of “casual” response.
During sex, he wanted me to keep my underwear on, which I at first thought was kind of one of those, “I find this totally sexy because of its novelty” approaches, but then I started to realise that it’s a thing with him. This is how he likes it. It’s no surprise that his preferred position is one of the “four-legged variety,” so-to-speak: he prefers to be in control. At All Times.
None of this is terribly horrible, but it’s not really something that allows for someone to really relax, either. Being in his space seriously started to make me itchy after a while. While he took a shower, I did some yoga, repeating the sun salutation a few times, a few warrior 2 poses, and lots of slow breathing.
And I still like him. A lot. In fact, maybe even more so than before. I can’t explain it. It’s just one of those things.
I honestly don’t know whether to go on vacation with him this weekend (which he’d originally suggested); I want him to ask me, but I don’t know if he will. He’s going to call me this evening. I suspect that’s when he’ll let me know what he’s decided. I have a pretty good hunch he’s finding a way to let me down easy. Otherwise I’d imagine he’d have asked me already.
I didn’t bring it up at all. It was the elephant in the room all last night, and all this morning.
And now, to bury myself in work.