The treble — fail, ?, ?

This time last week I was primed with superfluous energy and looking for somewhere unsuitable to expend it. This time this week I couldn’t be arsed. And men say they don’t understand women …

If you saw hell frozen over last night it’s because I said no to ArmyDude. Get out! I know! He was messaging excitedly and incessantly about us potentially meeting a couple, but shied away from logistical aspects such as when he could escape home safely to meet people about 90 fucking minutes away and, oh yes, I just got access to their private gallery and experienced an instant case of anti-wetness in my central region when I saw the man of the duo. He went into a defensive ‘oh my god, she’s turning into the fishwife’ mode and didn’t reply to my messages yet hours later came out of hiding with a hard-on and invited me over. I thought about it and couldn’t be bothered. Wanting low maintenance needs to work both ways.

I could be meeting the pierced man tonight. Our last contact was left open-ended a couple of days ago as he suggested meeting at my house and I insisted on a neutral place first. I don’t know if a lack of repsonse means that he’s fine and we’ll sort out a meeting point on the day or he’s not happy with that.

ETA: he’s just let me know when he’s free tonight — I must be getting old and out of touch with the she’ll-be-right communication habits of those a dozen years younger *smiles*.

In an act of masochistic game playing I can’t quite drag myself away from, I had Country Hottie pencilled in for this weekend but again he hasn’t confirmed anything beyond, “Hey there, sounds great, will be good to see you, I think this day will work for me xx.” I think more than anything I’m curious about why he swathes non-commitment with flowery niceties that I’m the most special person on earth when we’re both aware I’m not — I’m the loan girl. I’ll absorb his attention gratefully, of course, but it means nothing without follow-up. I think he runs the same attractive, charming cad who makes ’em feel good routine on everyone and I’m just still stubborn enough to think I can manage him in my way.

ETA: I’m a bit gobsmacked as he has just asked what time I’ll be there. Roadtrip here we come. Note to self: take more notice of what I just wrote about him getting away with caddish behaviour. I rest my argument on my relative detachment and desire for some bondage — I was sorting through a bag of equipment the other day and lamenting I haven’t played with ropes and cuffs since probably the first time with him.


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