Playing defense

Is it inevitable? To revisit and revise and play it again? I caved under the pressure one of the woodsmen was applying, I conceded to a drink. So we drank. And I had not eaten (thus the story of my life: forgetting that eating bit). I was composed, yes, I do a good job at composure, but I was chatty. Chatty chatty chatty. And frank. Those two never go well together when you're meeting a man you haven't seen in a year. And all this was his initiation. It was because of his persistence.

I've come to realize that I'm perpetually playing defense. I'm constantly on alert and I don't easily trust a man. Even as I'm writing this I'm thinking of one man whom I trust. There is no one man. There is no one. So this defense in mind, I wanted to subtly pick his brain. Subtly understand why he felt the sudden desire to contact me. And then the touching. (Who is being subtle here? Me or him?) He was subtly touching me. And after all that vodka (read: two. Food should have come into play, obviously.), I didn't mind his hand on the small of my back.

However, the honesty minded. And so then I had to call him on it. I had to tell him that he wasn't being very suave, that I knew what he was doing, but why was he doing it? Why? Don't touch the small of my back like you know me like you're allowed like you are interested in what I'm saying like you'll still want to talk to me in the morning like I'll still want to talk to you in the morning. Just don't.