“I’m Not Worried.”

cafe-918887_1920Even though I had plenty of face time with The Leo this weekend, I didn’t ever feel like the time was right for the conversation I wanted to have. I mean, what was I even going to say?

You see, the thing is…the reason I asked you to stop reading the blog is because I needed to figure out whether I wanted to keep seeing you, then I eventually settled on the conclusion that the reason I was having doubts was because of unresolved shit between The Voyeur and me, but it’s all good now because I think I know what I want…um, yeah.

It’s a convoluted jumble of thoughts and feelings, but the overriding sense I have is that I want to see where things go with him. Over brunch yesterday, we briefly touched on his blog access hiatus, and I blurted out, “It’s not bad, by the way…just needed space to work things out.” He looked me in the eyes and said casually, “Oh, I’m not worried. I mean, you’re here.” I couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, I sure am.

One potential hiccup in the plan for him to avoid reading: at some point back in December, he told one of his female co-workers (let’s call her Office Girl) about me and this blog. I was flattered to hear that she loved reading the blog and amused that she kept an eye out for posts relating to The Leo so that they could discuss my writing at work. At the restaurant, The Leo mentioned that he’d need to talk to Office Girl to let her know that all blog-related discussions were off-limits for a while. I told him if she’s caught up on my posts, then she already knows — I can’t help but think that she’ll be tickled to find that she’s become a character on the blog she reads so enthusiastically (Hi, Office Girl!).

In related news, I’ve been talking with my divorced friends who are at varying stages of readiness to start dating. As I’m considered the resident expert, I field a lot of questions about dating apps, how to gauge whether you’re ready, what to do when you (inevitably) get a dick pic*, and on and on. After one too many glasses of wine at a gathering last night, I let slip that I’d gone out with 45 distinct men (and one woman) over the course of a year. Some faces registered shock while others appeared fairly impressed. I think that might need to be a piece of information I keep to myself going forward.

*Hilarious McSweeney’s piece about dick pics.


3 Comments Add yours

  1. Office Girl says:

    it’s honestly like seeing your birthday listed on the news (back in the day when they did that) to see myself referenced!!!

    And my lips are SEALED! Girl code trumps water cooler convos.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. fortymatches says:

      Eek! You’re here! I love it. Thanks for the solidarity. 💛


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