The Secret Garden

Wow. The date with Mr. Compositionally Maxed was absolutely wonderful too, in a completely different way. Like in a scary how well we click kind of way. Like in an oh shit, this guy really listens and he gets me and I don't even have to translate Synge speak or flounder to feel like I'm getting across what I'm trying to say way. Ummmm...yeah. Just a little scary for she who flees from the possibility of anything real.

Not that I'm saying there is...I have no eggs in any baskets. Or unhatched chickens for that matter. No poultry or poultry products anywhere here. Nope. Just a bunch a bullshit, that's all, but no poultry to be found.

I crossed the river for this date, and ventured into hipsterville (Williamsburg), but it was well worth the schlepp and as I was not attacked by a band of way-too-cool-to-even-hang-out-with-themselves hipsters, all was well. I met him at his apartment, and the plan was to go to this club with great live music that's supposed to be this hidden treasure in Williamsburg. We never made it to the club, however, and spent the majority of the night drinking wine and talking out in his gorgeous patio garden that he built himself. The garden was downright magical, with christmas lights strung up, vines just begining to grow all along one wall, and an honest to god vegetable garden along the other wall.

He has some incredible looking tomatoes, let me tell you.

There was never a shortage of conversation throughout the night, and no awkward moments of silence. I'm not sure I've ever felt so comfortable talking with a guy on a date before, and was amazingly candid and honest with no censoring whatsoever, and no fear of saying the wrong thing or something stupid. Even in my less-than-eloquent moments that I'm famous for (I tend to use subvocal sounds more than words to describe things) he understood exactly what I meant, and tended to be right there with me in agreement.

He's also incredibly intuitive, which I find more than a little frightening. At one point, very late in the evening, the conversation ventured into rather serious territory. He was explaining the scars on his head, which I hadn't noticed but Mr. Saucy Funnybuns had mentioned, and talking about how they affected his self perception and others' perception of him. I told him that I understood very well abaout scars, as I had many, both visible and not. He replied, "I know you do. I can tell. You've been through a lot, but you've got incredible strength, and that strength is beautiful." I remained silent, and just kind of buried my head in the crook of his neck, partly panicking at my own transluscence and his X-ray vision and highly uncomfortable with how utterly naked I felt at that moment. He then said "Wow. You're really uncomfortable when people say nice things and compliment you, aren't you? If you want I can try to learn how to be an asshole if you want me to, but I'd really rather not."

I also broke the sex fast Lady Charon had put me on.

And ummm, he's pretty perceptive in that area as well. Yeah. Definitely.

I really wasn't going to, and was adamant about sticking to my guns, but in the end I am a weak willed creature in some ways. Particularly when it comes to sex. When it became pretty obvious that it was definitely going to happen, he stopped everything, looked right into my eyes, and said "Listen, I really really want to see you again." I don't know if he said it to assure me, or to let me know that if this was going to stop us from seeing eachother again he didn't want to do it, or to let me know he wasn't going to let me use sex to push him away; maybe it was a combination of all three, but it did definitely keep me from pushing him away and running. And it was just this really beautiful honest moment; the kind that scares the crap outta me.

Somewhere around four in the morning, after the lying in an exhausted heap phase had passed, we stayed up even longer talking in funny accents and laughing and eating peanuts in bed. It was almost like hanging out with one of my really good friends that I've known forever, except for the whole intense sex part of it. Even after lyling back down to go to sleep we continued to talk and laugh a la schoolgirls' slumber parties where you just can't shut up and let yourself fall asleep.

I ended up leaving my locket there the next morning; I am far from being a materialistic womyn, but my locket is the most important thing in the world to me. It is my security blanket, my comfort...my attachment to my brother. I am never without it and I rarely take it off. So I naturally, upon realizing its absence (once back in Manhattan, of course), I completely panicked. I called Mr. Compositionally Maxed, and when he picked up he said "You left your watch here, I was just about to call you." I said in a thinly veiled tremble progressively approaching a freak out, "And my locket! I forgot my locket! It's on the shelf by the bed!" He paused (assumedly looking) and "Oh, yeah, its right here." I said "Umm, I know this sounds really silly, and its just a locket and all, but that locket is the most important thing in the world to me." He offerred to bring it to my in the city, but I was already at work and I knew he had to work and then go out of town to Boston, so it wasn't really feasible. He assured me that the cats would not abscond with it and offerred again to bring it to me; most importantly, he wasn't treating me like the complete freak I was being about the whole thing. He said now we'd have to have another date so that I could get it back. I said "Okay, but could it be Monday night, because I really don't want to be without my security blanket for too long?"

So now I have two very viable very sweet and completely different options where before there were none. Of course now I also feel pressured to make some sort of choice immediately, when I know not only do I not have to, but I shouldn't; I should give it time and get to know these guys both and take my time. I guess I do tend to jump in headfirst; such is my extremist nature. It doesn't help matters much that Doc Harley has called and e-mailed almost every day since he left, which makes me feel a little suffocated. I understand that he's excited and all, but I think I kind of want to meander instead of going warp speed, you know?

On the one side I have the exciting adventure that I crave and on the other the incredibly supportive but also sexy best friend kind of thing that I've never had...at least that's the assesment so far, I guess I can't really judge yet. Mr. Artsy Hotpants made a good point that either guy doesn't necessarily lack the qualities that I admire in the other. And right now I want both, until I can figure out what the hell I want. But can I do that? I'm not entirely sure I'm all that capable of dating more than one person that I'm viably interested in and the pendulum shifts from moment to moment.

How funny to be now having this dilemma.