The Date

Dear Diary,

As you're probably aware, after cryptic voicemails and endless drinking sessions, things finally culminated in a date between Joe and I. Which took place last night. I was feeling pretty excited about the whole thing anyway, especially as I'd taken great delight in sending a thinly-veiled "Fuck you" David's way. My Facebook status on Friday announced that I had a date, so soon after I popped online, he sent me a message. This is brilliant. Have a look at this (PS: Imagine very long pauses in between my replies and me typing every message with a fierce sense of pride in finally standing up to someone):

"Looks like my not being able to make it on Saturday worked out for the best, then?"
"It had absolutely nothing to do with you"
..................

"So who is he? Where you meeting him?"
"David listen - you binned me off as a fuck buddy before we even had sex. Now I don't know if you can imagine, but that feels pretty fucking humiliating. So I'd just rather not talk to you for a while."
.......................

"I didn't bin you off"
"Whatever. See you xxx"

Woooooooooo!! I'd finally told someone what I really thought for a change! I felt all fantastic and powerful - and a tad cowardly as I scuttled offline before he could reply to it. Ah well. It's done with now. As predicted in my horoscope - listen to this! It's spookily accurate (the first part regarding Joe, the second, David):

If you are panting for passion, than you might be disappointed. Old-fashioned courtships are far more likely right now, indeed, if you come on too strong with your new beau, it could prove a turn-off. So let him make the first move.
You are usually a sucker for someone else's sob stories. This week, though, you won't be feeling so sympathetic. Maybe it's because you've wised up recently. Those people who weren't there for you in your hours of need might get short shrift.

So with that in mind, I got ready, which of course took FAR too long and made me late. So I sprinted off into town (well, on wheels, anyway), adorned in the Cheryl dress and mental last minute hair - straight on one side, unintentionally 50s-style waves on the other. Drove straight past him as he was walking round the block - well, I think it's the woman's perogative to be a little late.... He said I looked lovely - and he was all spruced up in a shirt and everything. So we were off! Into the theatre we went.
Have to say, it was thoroughly enjoyable being waved through the queue (well, VIP, guestlist, you know.....), especially seeing Joe's excitement at being my "Plus One!" Got drinks (pleasantly surprised by seeing an old college friend behind the bar) and chilled out for an hour before the bands came on.

The music was awesome - slightly hard to get into as I can't normally enjoy songs unless I know them, but still fun. Steve's band was fantastic (OK, maybe I'm biased), completed with Steve's Jagger-style legwork and the fact that they all seemed to be having a BALL. Met Steve afterwards, who managed to wangle me a free CD from the souvenir stand (£7, pffft!) and was very charming and lovely. And didn't recognise me to begin with, hehe.
Joe and I soon stole away to a nearby corridor, to examine the artwork and for me to prove that I CAN do a perfect Crab - we'd been debating it all week, he didn't believe I could, and wouldn't shut up about it till I showed him. Which I did. In a dress. Wow, classy (*smacks forehead*). We missed the 3rd band altogether, as we were chattering away about this, that, the other and exes.

Soon left, as the bar was shut, and sprinted across to the Tiger bar, to continue destroying our livers. For those of you wondering why I've so far only talked about events, and not the date himself - don't worry, it's about to get "good."
Once enconsed in the new bar, we went on the quiz machine (well, I mean, I drunkenly dragged him over and set about vociferously explaining the rules of the "Word" game) and tried to chat for a bit. And then it came out. Whilst I was sat on a stool, clutching a Smirnoff Ice. And I swear to god, this next speech - it actually did happen:

"Can I say something, a minute? Being honest?"
"Of course!"
"Um..... well, it's just.... This is embarrassing, but.... you see, when I joined the class, I wasn't really doing it to meet girls, and..... well, I didn't expect to meet a girl like you..."
"OK"
"And the thing is, I don't normally fall for girls younger than me, but.... it's just, there's this thing about you - you just always seem so happy and cheerful despite everything you tell me, and..... I don't know, you're just so freespirited, and..... I just..... I don't know if I'm coming across, but.... I.... basically, I really like hanging out with you, and.... all our after-class drinks and everything....."
"Yeah, me too!"
"And it's just..... I really like you, and.... I mean, obviously, I don't know if you like me, cos I'm a little bit weird, but.... yeah..... You can freak out, if you want."
(*PAUSE*)
"That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me........ Come here"

Yes folks, I kissed him! But oh my god, HOW SWEET a speech was that??! So we kissed for a while, moved around the bar, kissed some more. I screamed with excitement when "Give it away" came on, and danced my socks off. We kissed again. And that is where it all went, if not disastrously, then ever-so-slightly wrong. I went back to his.

Now before anyone jumps to conclusions, it took me about 25 minutes to make this decision. He wasn't remotely pushy or impatient, he just stood and watched, smiling as I worked myself up trying to make a decision. I eventually said yes, and we hailed a taxi to his parents.

So all in all, a good date, you'd think? We had a fun time, the bands were ace, we got pleasantly squiffy, he made that speech, we kissed, we spent the night together (in his parents' LOVELY house) woke up the next morning, he brought me paracetemol, he drove me home, and we got a Maccies breakfast. And guess what makes it even better? I didn't have sex on the first date.

Sounds perfect, doesn't it? But now I'm gonna have to do that really annoying thing - where I'm incapable of enjoying what most people would see as a lovely night. And the reason is this - No Chemistry. Absolutely nothing. And I know people would say it "comes with time" etc.... but shouldn't you at least fancy the person? I LIKE him, I think about him a lot and always have a wicked time when we go out. But it's the same feeling I get when I hang out with Lisa, Alice, or Marie, or any other friend - happiness and enjoyment of spending time with a friend. No butterflies, no stomach leap, no physical reaction. Even just KISSING someone is normally enough to "get me going," so to speak, but in this instance, I felt nothing. Zip. Whatever other words mean "nothing." His kissing was all tight-mouthed, uncompromising and no tongue, and I just found myself doing it because I thought I SHOULD. Do you see where I'm coming from? I WANTED to enjoy it, I wanted to hold and kiss him, but I didn't feel the slightest hint of anything except "Whose round is it next? Is my hair holding up?" etc.... Well, maybe not that shallow, but you know.....

And as for being back at his - all we did was kiss some more and fool around a bit on his bed. No sex. And for once, I was glad. Because all I could think was "What if he's as bad a lover as he is a kisser?" I was actually scared to do anything. I fell asleep in his t-shirt, I woke up in a room that he admitted "hadn't changed since he was 15" with him sprawled across the other side of the bed. No cuddles, no kissing, nothing. I was afraid to initiate it. The drive home was awkward as arse, and we only had a little kiss when I got out.

He texted later and apologised for coming across as "rude," (and blamed it on the hangover) - saying he didn't regret last night and had a lovely time. Well, when you've played with boobs and had an hour-long kissing session, you're bound to, aren't you? Never mind that I felt fuck-all. You can't even blame it on the drink - as I didn't even have that much. Not to mention I felt much more turned on with some of the one-night stands I've had, even the bad ones.

So I now feel completely stumped. And stymied. What on EARTH do I do now? I know he's a lovely lad, and I WANT to like him, but it feels like nothing more than friendship. Obviously not for him, but for me there is a just a sheer lack of fizzing excitement. That wonderful swooping feeling you get, as if you've missed a step going downstairs. I didn't even feel it when HE KISSED MY NECK (which I had to tell him to do). This is an EMERGENCY!!!

Oh god, this is so unfair. I WANT to like him, but my body just..... won't. What on earth is WRONG with me? It doesn't even bear thinking about.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Music: "4 minutes" - Madonna ft. Justin Timberlake