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Last we left off, I was finally getting laid.  Yay! 

Well evidently I’ve got the magic touch, because Rocket Man has been getting pretty serious since that time, to the point of mentioning that he was looking to buy a house closer to where I live, and oh by the way please bear my children.  Okay, maybe he wasn’t THAT blunt, but he asked if I wanted more kids and said that he never thought he would want any, but lately he’s been “warming up to the idea”, insert winkey face. 

Well that right there freaked me the fuck out.  I am not even REMOTELY close to picking out rings.  I mean, we have only known each other three weeks!  He’s not a crazy stalker and these little comments have been few and far between, but it was enough to make me reexamine the situation.  It didn’t help that he treated me and my brother to tickets to see Craig Ferguson, after which my brother told my parents that he’s clearly in love with me.  This led to my mother asking Questions.  Damnit.

To make matters more complicated, I went to a street fair with The Pilot last night.  Nothing happened, and I was pleased to find that I am not nearly as hot to rip his clothes off as I was when we first met, which is probably due to the fact that I’m getting some and he’s put on a little weight.  I’m a hypocritical bitch, I know.  Anyway, so we spent three hours walking around talking, occasionally about my dilemma with Rocket Man, and I found myself wishing I could have those easy conversations with him too.  I don’t know why it’s so much more entertaining to talk to The Pilot, but it is.  Maybe because he’s as shameless as I am (he likes to get his ass crack waxed) and we have many shared experiences (like being slightly batshit crazy).

This morning my mother asked me what I was going to do about Rocket Man.  I told her I was going to let him know that I felt like things had gotten serious pretty quickly, and I wasn’t ready to be exclusive yet.  She proceeded to tell me that it was a bad idea, and if he is okay with it do I really want to be with someone who’s fine with me off “playing tonsil hockey” with The Pilot (which I was NOT… unfortunately), and women who date more than one man at a time are sluts, and I am not a slut, so I shouldn’t do that.  She also compared me to Dickhead, and said that this was his mentality and I’d be just like him if I wanted to date other people. 

Whoa.  Whoa.  Whoa.  Seriously?  Comparing me to my rat bastard ex-husband?  That is a pretty fucking low blow.  I told her that I was not asking her permission, and regardless of her opinion about me becoming a slut I was going to do what I wanted to anyway.  She of course blew up and said I always had to cause a fight, and it would be nice if I listened to her once in awhile without turning her into a villain, blah blah blah.  Oh, and to top it off she threw in a, “I thought you were supposed to be a counselor”.  I didn’t scream back, but I am still seething a bit. 

I was going to wait to talk to Rocket Man tonight, but I got some great advice and decided to have it out via text message, where I could guarantee that I would make a coherent, cohesive argument without running off on a tangent or forgetting what I was supposed to say.  I told him I’m in a weird place because I just moved here, I am still dependent upon my parents, and I need to find my own way without using a man as a safety net.  Despite the insanity of my life, I still feel that I have little relationship experience and I am not ready to make another commitment.  I don’t want to lead him on, and I’m not sure I can handle the pressure of an exclusive relationship at this time.  He said, “If there’s a future for the two of us, I know it will work itself out on its own.”  He also never assumed that we were exclusive, he didn’t mean to seem serious, and he apologized if he gave me the wrong impression.  Okay, so perhaps I was getting a little ahead of myself. 

I am an ass. 

Tonight we are going out to dinner, shoe shopping, and then lounging in a hot tub.  I’ll try not to accuse him of proposing to me telepathically.

Regrettably yours,

The Silly Girl

 

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