R., in response to my saying that I was going to a happy hour with makeover tonight while he was taking his kid sister to the movies. Yeah, we're at that point, where we tell each other what we're doing every night.
We're also at a point where still all we've done is kiss, but it's getting a tad more risque... long story short he said he'd give me a massage if I didn't feel like throwing up at the thought of him touching me (in response to me saying I would throw up at the thought of a specific someone else touching me), to which I replied he was making me blush--I'm such a demure Southern gal--to which he pretty much replied, yeah right, we'll see about that tomorrow (when the massage happens).
And I can't reiterate enough how weird it all feels, to really want to be with him, to not feel trapped by telling him where I am, and to not look around wondering if there's someone better out there. I definitely haven't seen one yet! (But you know me, I can't throw in the forever towel this early... some stunnas might still catch my eye)
Off to hang out with the girls I go! Can't lose sight of them, obvi.
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