Cat and Mouse

I want to coin a new saying: he who resists a label is inevitably called “asshole”.

I am caught up in a flirtation with my cheese guy, a man who has hit and quit it many times and who I cannot seem to resist. Why can I not turn him down? Or ice him out?

I just found the courage to break up with massage guy and here I am, dragging my flirtation with the cheesemonger into its THIRD calendar year. It’s downright embarrassing.

But something does bring me back - there is a spark, a commonality, a tension. It’s not just that he’s good in bed - plenty of guys are. Do I need to get out of the house more? Do I need to be flirting IRL more to see that my connection with this man is pedestrian?

I am stymied. His dick is somewhat dick-notic but also it’s not just the sex. It’s the fun. It’s the intrigue. It’s that he knows exactly how much to hold back from me to drive me nuts. He’s one of kind but maybe in the same way as a polyester three piece powder blue tux. Nice for an occasion or two, but after the novelty wears off, weary and borderline repulsive.

There’s also an element of testing myself. Have I evolved since we last saw each other? Can I resist his charms? Can I take what I want from him and keep my head above water? There is something that gets into my brain that is hard to ignore. That textbook limerance that I fall into with many men. Thank God, this is not as bad as Patient Zero. Cheese guy would have done a real number on me if I still had the hormones of a 16 year old.

Maybe part of it is wanting to maintain my connection to someone who does make me feel butterflies and giddy and wanted and sexy. Part of it is knowing he likes women who look like me. Part of it is knowing I’m one of many and have no obligations to him.

I HATE feeling like I’m being played. He has a bigger appetite for games than I do. I guess I’d better put my game face on or face being defeated again.