Jan. 16th, 2012

snowylinenland: (Default)
So the thing with drunk boy has been building since November; it's been planned since December, with great joy. The other thing ongoing since November, but seemingly not building, but rather not going anywhere at all:
My Canadian penpal.
First emailed on OkCupid on November 5, because he looked larger than life, and like he would tell amusing travel stories in return for a nice beer. It seemed like an obvious transaction. Maybe a new friend. Someone to hang out with casually. At the very least a boozy night out with someone who'd been places and done things. I can appreciate that. I'm good at that. I'm good at being fun to hang out with.
...and he didn't bite. We exchanged 43 emails between November and January. Each time I gave up on him in frustration, planning to let the exchange die, because clearly he wasn't going to meet up with me for a beer, at all, ever...he got back in touch. "Hey stranger, how've you been?"
When I persisted, I persisted out of stubborn curiosity, because of the absurdity of having acquired a local penpal I wasn't actually interested/invested in. He even became a running joke amongst my friends - he was clearly married, children, the lot.
And then the first week, he finished an email with:
"If so send me a text and let's finally seal this deal lol." (No comment on the internetspeak.) And so we starting texting. And then, out of the blue - he started flirting. "Well yay! Putting it up front: I may try to look down your top. Benefit of being tall." So I ran with it - I am a *good* flirt. I can flirt with anyone, including ridiculous tall Canadians who won't meet up with me. (Cue: 'I will /win/ this game').
What also became clear from the texting: he doesn't answer direct questions. And I'm more verbose than him. But he's very funny, and we had good conversational chemistry, in multiple languages. That was okay; I enjoyed that. I was even pretty excited about it, albeit skeptical he'd actually show, right up until the moment I actually met him.
That was seven days ago.
We met. My first response: "I'd hit that". Tall, shaved head (two rather big buttons of mine), otherwise presentable...and warm. Such warmth. Bear hug in hello. He speaks slowly, but in a way that makes me want to hear more. Hanging onto his words. That first long afternoon and evening: touches while talking, fun over food, surprise discovery of great wisdom in the good humor, easy loping fast walking together, sensible approach to my requiring my bicycle come along, a second pub, more beer, more talking, my touching him unnecessarily, my needing to leave to go do something, us kissing. Fun. Slightly strange position to be in. Enjoying this stranger, but was the kissing necessary? Fun anyway. Afterwards: impressions of great height and great comfort, intense warmth and wisdom, and so easily stereotypable. Canadian country boy. Jock. Absurdly tall. A laundry list of attributes, some amusing to me, some attractive, all entertaining. Probably significantly more socially conservative than me.
The next day was Monday. Somewhere, amidst some emailing in the course of the day, I was very direct and asked if he'd like to meet up again. The answer: for sure.
Tuesday-Wednesday. Emails have grown to 20+ a day. Such banter. The next day I'm available is Monday again (tomorrow) - which is eons away, when on Tuesday he suggests we meet up Wednesday.
20+ emails a day, Thursday and Friday. He's not a stereotype anymore, but 3D. And someone I like. Someone I find fascinating. Potentially dangerous to me. Pushed a lot of my buttons, and with interesting, considered perspectives on topics discussed...including both of us being poly. And single. He continues to be a brilliant penpal.
By Friday, 'smitten' seemed like a perfectly reasonable word for me to use. Certainly fascinated. Enthralled. Obsessed?
This is out of character. Unusual, to say the least.
By Friday, it was clear that I was still leading this discussion (as had I the OkCupid emails), but that he was responding very, very appropriately. Asked him at some point for an explanation of what he currently found attractive in females, and the description does suit me...but he has not once said he finds me, personally, attractive and compelling. The occasional comment about cute women. This is still a point of concern.
By Friday, I've found that by pointing out pointblank that he's evading direct questions, he can be provoked into answering them, though he doesn't spontaneously do so of his own accord. (But perhaps my interest is just that much greater than his - likely, as my interest seems to be limitless.)
His Friday night plans fell through, so he was added on to mine. Cocktails with friends - he behaved superbly. A gig with friends. He was snuggly and attentive. Funny or broodingly quiet. Lots of grinding dancing, lots of kissing. Constant touching. Caring, solicitous, cute. And I went home with him, abandoning my bicycle (terror and anxiety), for a very short night of storytelling and making out. Some sleep in each other's arms. Still no compliments, or statement of interest on his part, but an explanation of him being purringly happy to have me there, of not wanting me to go in the morning, of him feeling very comfortable with me there.
Warm fuzzies in my stomach even now, writing about it. It seemed like deep mutual contentment.
Memory of his face in mine, making muted growling sounds while nuzzling me. Memory of how intertwined we spent the night, the different ways we fit together, given the difference in our size. Memory of his story of the art on his walls, his story of an experience that nearly killed him. Memory of him insisting on walking me to the station so I could make my early Saturday appointment, walking hand in hand in sunshine. Memory of us stopping so he could explain the type of frost the street was covered in. Memory of the coffee we'll have some other day, because I no longer had time.
Dear reader, over the course of the last week, I have hurled myself at this man. I don't have a clue why this man, why this week. And he's taken it with seeming pleasure, except that I am still unclear whether it's just the attention, or me specifically he's enjoying. This is a source of concern to me; he's a serious emotional liability at this point.
The current plan is to see him tomorrow night; we'll see if he cancels. We'll see if we spend the night together somewhere. I would like that very much; I am for some reason utterly infatuated with the tall Canadian, and I don't have a clue why, or what course I am trying to maintain speed on.

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April 2012

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