Kissing Doesn't Kill: Greed and Indifference Do

I just got home from a jazz/drinks thing with Mr. R. I thought it would be okay. And okay, it was. We met and talked and got along and traded stories and didn't touch and I thought it would be okay, this shift from us being Something to Nothing More Than Friends.

Until he walked me to my car (first red flag), hugged me twice (I stayed far from his lips), and left. I got into my car, started the engine and breathed a sigh of relief, looked in my rearview mirror before reversing and there he was, walking back, and then I was rolling down my window and without a word he was kissing me.

And then he was gone again.

And while I applaud his boldness, while I am quite impressed with his technique, truth be told, I'm just not that into him.

And I suddenly fear he thinks I am his Dream Girl.

I'm not! Trust me, I'm not!

And now I'm home with a voicemail on my phone from the guy from last week who I still haven't seen and thinking how empty my house feels without The Ex here with me, even though I don't want him but at night in my big empty house I feel lonely and my thoughts wander to him. I don't like this pattern, this kissing three men in a span of just over a week. I don't like it. I am a grown woman. I am not the girl I was when I started this blog, and I know kissing doesn't kill but dammit I can't keep them in order if I'm kissing this many.