Freaking out

To this date Mister Yellow and I have been seeing each other for six or seven weeks.

He knows some of my stories, but no real details. I just don't want to bother him with them. And it's not really my style, sharing loads of personal information, especially regarding my past, with guys I date. So this is what he knows: I've been in two shitty relationships, don't really trust guys, I love being fondled and that I date about five guys simultaneously.

Mister Yellow and I meet 3-4 times a week. We always spend the night together. That means that we meet almost every day, at least for a morning coffee before we rush to work. As I told you earlier, Mister Yellow is astonishing in bed. I feel like we have a connection. His green eyes won't look away from mine during sex. And we do it a lot. I let him do things to me that I don't usually do outside relationships and for some reason I find myself totally aroused from doing stuff that I don't usually do. I guess I'm utterly turned on by the fact that I bring him pleasure. Little miss Kitty ain't that selfish no more. Uh-oh.

Tuesday night at his bijou studio flat. We had been seeing each other for 2-3 weeks. We enjoyed a dinner that he cooked, simple yet oh-so delicious. I was lounging on the bed in my Victoria's Secret underwear, he was laying next to me with his laptop beside him, trying to get some work done. Three minutes later we were having sex, him on top of me, looking at me with his deep green eyes, saying "I'm extremely happy".
Noooooooo don't do this! 
I replied: "Say what?", he answered "I'm so happy I found you. I just don't want this to end".
No comeback. I had absolutely no idea how to respond.
This is where I usually run, I don't want guys to tell me that I make them happy. I hurt people as a response to being hurt. So, I freaked out a bit. After sex, that is. I would never stop him, I just love it.
I stayed the night, but I guess I didn't sleep a bit. Wednesday at work sucked ass, zombie Kitty was way too tired to do anything productive.

I've tried to push Mister Yellow away by telling him that I date multiple guys simultaneously, but he doesn't mind. He once said that he knows that I'll come running back to him, our connection is really deep and the sex we share is amazing. Damn, he knows his shit. It's funny because it's true. I do come running back to him, even after breaking up with other people. Is Mister Yellow my rebound guy, although I swore I wouldn't do that anymore?

Mister Yellow and Mister Turquoise are the only two guys that I see regularly. Well, more than once a week, that is. I have a toothbrush and towel at Mister Yellow's place, since I visit his home almost as often as my own. I hardly ever sleep alone anymore, now that I have the chance to sleep beside a guy who just happens to be 6 ft 4 in (190 cm) tall. And smart. And muscular. And handsome in every possible way. And and and and and please kill me. I think that my sick little mind has developed some sort of crush on him. He makes shit happen, I find myself being a better girl simply by being with him. Please someone, find my Katana and chop me in symmetrical cubes.

A few weeks ago he tried to make me jealous. He left his phone on the table (not in his jacket pocket on silent as he normally does), and he'd been playing Tinder before I got to his place, because his phone just wouldn't stop plinging, buzzing and making all kinds of odd sounds. I really don't mind that he uses Tinder (I play Tinder when I'm alone, too), but the fact that he does it while I'm in the room makes me really sad. He responded to his Tinder messages while I sat on the bed, waiting for him to join me. Not cool. I asked him to stop being an asshole. He put down his phone, slid beside me in bed and kissed me all over. Apology accepted!

His behaviour was a clear response to something that happened the night before, when I had left my phone on the table (on silent) while I brushed my teeth. Mister Turquoise sent me his regular good night text with a few hearts and xo's, and Mister Yellow freaked out when he read those texts. My fault, I simply don't know how to switch the preview off, but still.
He asked me who Mister Turquoise is, I told him that he's a friend of a friend and he simply replied "Oh, that makes it all better."
Would it have been easier if I told him I found him on Tinder? Why didn't I do that? Oh, because I'm a shitty liar. My face gives me away in a nanosecond. Lying about Mister Turquoise would have been worse.
What the fuck just happened? 
I went to bed, hugging a pillow. He brushed his teeth and laid down beside me, not touching me. "Good night", I said. No answer.

Ice cold.