Me and Sundays
What is it is with me and Sundays? How come Sunday evenings are so fruitful for rambling posts in which I'm compelled to describe how I feel?
Anyway. I've noticed that I heavily censor what I write about here. I don't like to be too specific about some things because I'm afraid someone I know, who I don't want to read it, will. Makes this kind of journal kind of pointless, doesn't it? But, at risk of being, ahh, discovered, here goes.
It's one thing to tell someone who is interested in you that you don't feel likewise. And it isn't very complicated when someone you're interested in turns you down. But the in between situations seem to be the most troublesome. What do you do when you're attracted to someone but not sure if you want to follow up? Is it fair to the other person for you to have such iffy feelings and still proceed full on?
There are several courses of action to choose from. A) Do nothing and discourage any further development of the situation. B) Do nothing, but let things happen as they come. C) Act according to your interest, flirt and have fun, but don't say anything strait out. D) Win her heart—or at least her body, enjoy that one hot encounter and then see how you feel. Know that you're an asshole. E) Take a leap, come clean with how you feel and find out how the other party feels. F) Write vaguely about your circumstances in a weblog or public journal.
Of course, in this particular case, I have more complicating factors to consider (these are my extremely myopic musings on my life, after all). What if that someone you kind of-sort of-maybe like is a friend or good friend of a friend? I don't want to mess things up too bad. Not to mention embarass myself. And that's why I don't want to take course E, especially since I'm not sure how she—ahem, the other party—feels.
Oliver, a new friend I met at "bootcamp", suggested a variation of case D, in which you get really drunk with the other party and then sleep together. That way there's no strings attached, nothing more is expected to come of it. Of course, Oliver wasn't serious and he said he ended up really regretting the time he did it. Though he said the sex was worth it. Actually, he wasn't very clear on if he wished he had or hadn't done it...
Uuuh. Why can't I just meet people in bars like everyone else?
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