_{he wasn't supposed to be lovely}

Yesterday I took the dogs out and my hair froze but my heart melted.

_{It's snowing}

I met this guy, pre-arranged we laughed and talked in the snow. Snuck back to the basement and had all sorts of fun. He was lovely, I knew it would be lovely, and I was okay with that. He felt comfortable, very much a friend vibe. That was more then okay.

_{New New New}

Being new in Ottawa, new to the job, I sometimes find my self in a rut so in my own way I've spent the last few days finding 'inspiration' and that's okay. They guy at the canal, the dork with dirty sheets and bad driving, all okay. I learned something, had a big of fun, it was enough.

_{so why the funny face ?}

On a whim, I wasn't sold in any way. I thought it would be a dud, or just something I'd put down to experience and more on I made one last plan. On the cuff, I had already said no thanks, but then last minute I said - lets do it.

_{Oh. My. Fucking. God.}

He was amazing.

_{Does it make sense to say he was a whole person?
Real. Flawed. Grown up. Full.}

Lovely. Sweet. Funny. Sexy. Smart. Well traveled. He told me stories and let me ask questions.

Questions? Questions about everything, his life, his chair in the study, his windows, where he runs, the joys of breakfast ... anything. Everything and I wanted to. I needed to paint a picture of his life. He told me about the scar on his right ass cheek and other silly things, a story about a girl who tried to offer him a blow job on the street and ended up stealing his hotel room key. He shared with me how he got his dog, why he broke a woman's heart. Questions .


He brought grape soda and pineapple ( yes just like Gary used to ) and he melted my cynical heart. We had sex. I can say that, screw you all We did. We made love. We explored each other in a way I've never felt. We made out on the couch and we touched hands as we talked.

_Wonderful

But no, you see he wasn't supposed to be lovely. The first time, as we lay together touched laughing, happy so relaxed I had to try not to cry. I'm okay admitting I enjoy sex, enjoy naughtiness, I can handle honesty about sexual appetite but oh god don't let it mean something. Not unless I get to keep them.

_Oh.

Yes. I know. Muppet. I know he's not my ever after, but I'd like the chance to see that chair, meet the dog, have the breakfast. Just for a while.

_{But ..}

But that's not where this story goes.
Before it starts it ends. Story Over.


I was honest in this journal. I needed to sting up my thoughts, explore how they felt on paper. I don't need you to tell me maybe I'll have a chance as a differnt ending to the story, and I don't need you to comment on the more 'sexual' nature of this journal.

<sub>That's how I dance naked. With words, with my heart

[link] Yet he was</sub>