Thursday, 7 August 2014

I smell smoke.

There's this new guy.

He's a fireman, therefore I'll name him Mister Fire. He's also a part-time fitness model and will probably be reading this blog on some occasion. Wanna know why? Because I tell him everything and it freaks me out.

The thing is, he confuses me. I'm shy when I'm with him, I can't find any words and I'm just not myself at all. I'm having serious trouble looking him in the eye and he takes advantage of that. He plays me like a fiddle.

He's absolutely gorgeous. Easily one of the hottest so far.

And he's addicted to me.

I don't find myself particularly special. I'm not particularly fit, not that pretty either - witty, maybe. I asked him this morning what he sees in me. 

He answered:
"You really want to know what I think? This is what your Tinder profile should say:
'An exceptionally smart, funny, sexy and witty girl, whose smile can light up a whole city. Interesting, yet easy to be around. Looking for a tall guy to follow - not for wussies.' Like it?"
- Yeah.

Now, why am I confused again? 
Oh yeah, because he's a poly. He's in several relationships simultaneously.

I asked him yesterday about his "girls" - apparently there are two that he really cares for, three potential ones, a few playmates and a few fuck buddies. 

I fell silent.

That sounds really bad, doesn't it? I asked him what he needs me for, when he's got that many chicks throwing themselves at him. He told me something, but I guess I was just too upset to remember what it was. I find myself single although I'm seeing quite a few guys at the moment. I just don't know what to think of that. My first reaction was to run, really fast, because I think I'll get hurt really soon. I went to bed angry.

But you know, I don't want to leave him. Sex with him is ah-freaking-mazing. He's the best so far. No surprises there, he's had quite a few trial runs with other chicks... Talking to him is great. We can spend four hours on the phone just chatting away about something ridiculous or dead serious. I know everything about his fucked-up family and he knows everything about mine.

He's afraid to meet my brother on Saturday.
He should be afraid.

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