Freaking out, part II

Tuesday night. My place.

Mister Turquoise and I spent a night indoors. I served him dinner, he fixed my computer. Yeah, he fixes things around my flat, he wants to help me. He actually calls himself my janitor, haha.

We were relaxing on my bed. Mister Turquoise was laying next to me, talking about buying a flat for himself. He said something funny, like he wasn't sure if buying a flat right now was the right call to do. I looked at him, puzzled. I really had no idea what he was talking about, until he said something about being "old" (he's six years older than me) - he said he should probably want to have kids soon, within the next few years. Turning thirty changed something in him, he appreciates time and wants to make the best of it. Yeah, so do I, and I'm not thirty. I really didn't get his train of thought.

I don't like where this conversation is going. I could hear my heartbeat, my chest was going to implode. I could feel an Alien baby wanting to see the sunlight soon. Not cool. 
"Okay. So what's the hurry?", I said. He thinks that being an old dad is not very desirable. Old dad. What girl can honestly say that she doesn't consider her parents old?

Seriously freaking out right now. Questions going through my mind: Is it rude to ask him to leave and never call me again? How do I get out of this conversation without being rude or falling apart? Do we really need to talk about this? Can't we like, just talk about the weather or movies or politics or atheism or the summer or dogs or or or or or anything besides this?

Thing is, I don't trust people. AT ALL. That's why I'm in like eight "relationships" at the moment. I don't trust guys to love me enough not to fuck around - trust me, I've done that already. Didn't work out the way I thought. The least I need is a few kids running on my lawn.

I don't remember my exact words, but I remember having a wet face all of the sudden. Why am I crying? At first I tried to hide it, failing miserably. I explained something about my past, saying that I really don't trust guys. Not even if they say they love me. I can't remember the last time I heard a guy saying he loves me and mean it. I don't think I've healed enough to say those words in the near future.
So, I was rattling on about my traumas and he just hugged me until I stopped crying.

Fuck, I really need to dump him.

Boyfriend material

I'm in deep trouble.

There's this guy. [insert sigh sounds here]

I know him through a friend. He has eyes as blue as the sky; piercing, mesmerizing and sometimes sad-looking eyes. I''ll name him Mister Turquoise, since that's my favourite colour. 

Mister Turquoise is almost six years older than I am. His age is not a big deal, but, the thing is, he's married. Kind of. He broke up with his (soon to be ex-)wife just a few months ago, and is waiting for the divorce to be final. They were together for over seven years. She moved out a while ago, he stayed in their old apartment. 

I've met him a few times, and there's this weird electricity between us. He looks at me like he knows all my secrets - and like he really needs to tell me his. I tried to scare him away by telling him my story, but for some reason he's not freaking out at all. I told him that my heart was melt to stone by a few idiots, I'm ruined, spoiled, I don't trust men at all. But I trust him. Such a scary feeling.

I'm a bit afraid that he'll use me as a rebound girl, a band-aid to soothe his pain. I asked him a million times about that. His answer is usually that I'm way too precious to be a band-aid. If I was a rebound girl, I wouldn't know anything about his past. Sex isn't the main thing in our weird little relationship either. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.

This is where I usually run. Why am I not lacing up my sneakers already?

Because he's serious boyfriend/husband/father of my future children material. And I hate it. He's the kindest guy I've met so far. He makes me happy with all these small things: he sends me goodnight texts, he opens doors for me and is sincere in all his tiny remarks about me. I love the way he brushes a few loose strands of hair from my face, how his beard tickles my neck when he's spooning me (apparently I'm into guys and beards - look at that picture of Ryan, ha-ha), how he smiles at me when he notices that I'm awake, how his hand gently touches mine as I'm making coffee in the morning. He helps me with stuff around my flat, takes care of my car and is such a sweetheart.

But why am I still thinking of Mister Yellow when I'm with Mister Turquoise? Too many men, too little time.

My brother's advice: "Sis. Dump him and run". Maybe next week.