I didn't mention the New Coworker. The Sculptor was a coworker at a school where I teach, but this New Coworker is from my other work, and yes, I've always found him to be attractive. And no, I never really thought much of it.
But things happen as they do and we were talking about weekend plans and he invited me to a musical with some of his friends. It sounded innocent enough, but I had my Stirring The Pot reservations. Regardless, I found myself choosing a friend-appropriate Saturday night outfit and headed out to meet them. And then I really couldn't tell. We whispered comments during the musical and I wasn't sure if it was merely the act of whispering that created the intimacy or if it was something else entirely.
We all went out for a round of drinks after and I got to know his friends and little by little we touched more and more until he grabbed my hand and I got scared and pulled away. I know myself. I know what I do. I love to kiss a man and pretend like it could be something and then in a day, in a few weeks, a few months, I am indifferent and he is bereft. I might be giving myself some credit with bereft but this makes me no less worried about all the bridges I've burned this year. Mr. R and The Sculptor are both men who can't stand to be around me now because I managed to hurt them so badly with my interest turned apathy.
I guess it just takes time to find someone who could understand me, who I could allow into my life in a real way. I know I shouldn't kiss this man at work simply because I know myself and we work five feet away from each other five days a week. But knowing all this doesn't quite stop me from wanting to kiss him.
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