Dating...part II

This is the beginning of the third week of being asexual…

There is one problem: I have a visitor from Winnipeg and he has a crush on me. I mean, it’s fine, and yeah, I have self-control. I let him stay at my place last night after we hit the town and had one too many drinks.

We both agreed beforehand, that if he did stay at my place, it would be purely platonic. There would be no kissing; no nakedness, no fooling around, and I think we held true to the majority of those agreements. I don’t think I’m asexual anymore.

This morning, after waking up way to early and being hung over, we snuggle some more, we kiss, and I am left feeling guilty. I’m guilty because a) I also did the same thing to his ex about two weeks ago, b) I’m not even sure if I want to do this with him, and c) I have broke a promise to myself.

In the long run, it will be meaningless, and just another experience, but now, it’s causing me to think into this situation far too much.

“Can I sleep over again sometime?” he asks as I’m dressing for work.

“I don’t know. We’ll talk about it later, ok?” I go over to him and give him a hug goodbye, not knowing how to approach this situation.

We had a fun time yesterday. I left work and met him and a friend at a sushi place downtown. Mostly, I talked to Doug because Mark was too shy.

He was just sitting there smiling and being fidgety. At one point after Doug and I gave summaries of our lives up to this point, I put Mark on the spot. He turns red, fidgets even more, and proceeds to give us the quickest overview out of all three of us.

I shouldn’t tease him so much. I know he is shy and I guess I’m prodding him a little so he can come out of his shell.

After sushi, we go for a run. We start on Dallas Road, running about 4KM along the ocean, over to a breakwater where a single lighthouse – painted red and white – stands. It’s a beautiful backdrop…and, I think we both appreciate the here and now.

Later that night, after a work out and a shower, we head downtown. The streets are empty for the most part; it is Tuesday after all. Even at eleven some of the local tourist shops, gelato houses, and small pubs are still open for business. I don’t venture down here that often on the weeknights, so I guess I’m pleasantly surprised.

We head to a pub called Irish Times and order a couple of Guinness. The pub is nice, quoted as being Irish, but the architecture, and interior, well, I’d hate to say it, but it’s more English.

The take away is the fact there is a stunning performer on stage. The minute he starts playing our conversation with one another stops, and, I’m drawn into his beautiful Irish ballad. His voice is pure, and it reminds me of a Celtic Bob Dylan without all the frills and tangles. He’s wonderful and I’m taken back to the good ole days in downtown St. John’s.

I think he had a good time. I mean, I know he had a good time. I always enjoy it when two strangers, who barely know each other, get together and discover whether or not they can actually be friends and tolerate one another. I think we can.