Daydream

One thing, whatever happens, the guy I’m meeting on Saturday deserves is my thanks for making meeting guys pleasurable again. This year my attitude has moved from genuinely enjoying the experience of meeting new people, whatever happens, and hoping for the best, to a sort of [self fulfilling?] resignation that it wouldn’t work out. One of the many reasons I decided, while still open to Mr Right, to give that ole’ dating business a rest for a while.

The thing is I am getting on really, really well with this one. Nothing sexual, or at least overtly, in our messages. He’s just a real charmer; though he has a tendency to boast about how pert his bum is, how flat his tum is…

Perhaps even then he’s done me a favour, because instead of being angsty about how I look, I’ve been compelled to simply say he’ll just have to take me as he finds me.

Yes, I’ve begun to really like him and keep having to give myself a reality check: we haven’t met yet! Of course we’re both realistic enough to candidly acknowledge our meeting might well be a deal breaker. I really just really hope it isn’t.

His friends approve of me – after he shared my pics and, it turns out, my emails… one of them has even bought me a ticket to a show they’re all going to see next Wednesday. Now, isn’t that counting your chucks?! He has told me I’m his perfect guy, and he feels like we’re on our fifth date already. I’ve told him he’s sweet, and lovely, and charming, and kind; and becoming very special to me.

My friends like him to, of course – but then, what’s not to like?

I’ll let you into a little secret too – the amount of money I’ve spent on skincare products in the last week… I’m sitting here in a face mask even now! OK, I’m a gayer… but surely there are limits???

Me being me, of course, I probably nearly ruined it by explaining he’s making me nervous about meeting him with all his boasts about his body. Indeed, tonight (he tells me) he’s engaged in a hefty bout of manscaping… Now I’m determined to meet him head on, confidence for confidence, fire for fire. I want to play it a bit cooler – not be the anxious, infatuated one for a change. Walk softly and carry a big stick (oo-er)?

Hence my renewed blogging vigour. You must bear the brunt of it, as always, gentle reader. I just need to vent… I like this one. What a silly fairy Frumpella is.