"You're the mistake I'm willing to make"

Mister Blonde kissed me.

It happened sort of by mistake, I guess.
Though, can you kiss someone by mistake? He didn't run into my lips face-first.

I had just spent the last three days (and nights) with him. We were at his place, getting ready for bed. I was already under the covers, wearing nothing but an over-sized t-shirt that I got from him the previous night. He crawled into bed with me, took me in his arms and caressed my thighs. He said that he really loves a girl who squats. He put his hand behind my neck and pulled my face close to his, our noses almost touching. His warm breath was on my face. I just couldn't pull away from him... So when he kissed me, I kissed him back. Four minutes later I was on top of him, he was undressing me and I stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because he looked weird. His face almost shouted out the fact that we were doing something wrong. And he was right.

I lay down beside him. My head had just done a 180 - wasn't I supposed to be in love with Mister Fire? If so, what the hell was I doing? We had to discuss this and I knew it. I took the initiative and asked him what in the world just happened. I had totally friend-zoned him and he influenced me like that, although he of all people shouldn't have.

He told me he was into me. No surprises there. He told me that he had tried being friends with me, but apparently I'm such a flirty persona that it's simply impossible. He had wanted to kiss me for three days. He told me I was driving him crazy: the smell of my hair on his pillow, my skin, my laugh, my body... I guess that's a plausible explanation. We decided that we weren't going to have sex before we knew what was going to happen. Mister Blonde is truly not a fan of a sexual relationship, he wants me to be something more or nothing at all. That's a tough one.

He asked me to stop telling him about all the guys I'm seeing at the moment. Including Mister Fire. He hopes I'm not seeing Mister Fire anymore. Weeeeeeell.. I'm meeting him tomorrow, he'll be staying with me for three days. Whoopsie.
He doesn't want to know about my blog anymore. He wants to be close to me. Apparently he wishes that we'll be involved in some sort of serious relationship, although he wasn't sure if he wanted that. I told him I was very happy being single. There are days when I dislike being a single girl but they come very seldom nowadays.

He wants to be my boyfriend.

Now I'm freaking out.

... And I'm still in love with Mister Fire.

A night with my brother and Mister Gold

Mister Gold and I had been out on a few dates during the Summer. He was really nice to me. Nothing special happened. We didn't sleep together, so I can't make any comments on his performance.

I had made plans to hang out with my brother and the girl he was dating at the moment. I told Mister Gold that my brother and I have a special relationship. We're really close and are extremely frank about each other's potential spouses. We have a right to veto. Mister Gold didn't seem that freaked out, I guess he wanted to meet the person who has such a special place in my heart.

We met on a Friday night. I had just had dinner with my brother and his "girl" and went for drinks afterwards. Mister Gold had been out with a few friends and met up with us later. He was really nice to me, but seemed sort of anxious and really stressed out - I wasn't sure what was going on... Until I realized that he did all he could to impress my brother. The way he was flaunting his stuff pissed me off, I just couldn't believe the things I was hearing. It felt like he had to tell my brother everything about his stupid boats, his ridiculously expensive hobbies and travels and whatnots. Side note: my brother is extremely wealthy, so Mister Gold's attempt in throwing his money around didn't really go as planned. The evening went so-so. Mister Gold was more interested in talking with my brother than being around me and it annoyed the hell out of me.

We shared a taxi. My brother and I went home and left Mister Gold on the way. By the time we got home it was around 5 a.m. I felt exhausted. I could have easily lived a happy life without ever having to experience that.

Afterwards my brother told me that Mister Gold had talked about me on every possible occasion. A lot. He asked my brother if I was seeing someone else, because I felt "weird and distant". He also said that he liked me a lot, but I never answered his feelings. I never witnessed these conversations, I guess they had them when I was out of hearing range.

His thoughts could be accurate. I didn't answer any of his feelings because I didn't feel that way.

I had made plans to meet Mister Gold later that week, but I sent him a text saying I will never see him again. He answered me with a "Ok then.". What the hell is that? First you tell my brother how much you like me and want to spend the rest of your life with me, and the next day you're fine with never seeing me again. Puh-lease.

But please, Mister whatsyourcolour. Don't go talking personal stuff to my brother. He's not that into hearing how much "you've fallen for me", he probably knows it already. Men tend to fall for me and my brother is used to seeing and hearing all kinds of stuff when it comes to his baby sister.

Once you go Black, you can't go back

You'd think that I was talking about skin colour, right? Well, you're wrong as hell.

Mister Black texted me on Sunday (while I was busy getting angry at Mister Yellow). He told me that he found my disc golf frisbees, and was willing to return them to me if I agreed to listen to him for a few hours. The discs felt like excuses, to be honest. He could have just left them in my mail box.

Wednesday night.
Mister Black drove 500 miles to see me. What the fuck is wrong with him? I confronted him about it. He said that he wanted to show me that he cares for me, that he can make an effort. That he still feels deeply for me, and wanted me to see that. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Speechless. Again. I hate when that happens. 

He talked for three hours. I had absolutely nothing to say to him. I just sat there, listening, crying. The sleeves of my dinosaur sweatshirt were soaked with tears. He was sincerely sorry for all the shit he put me through. He didn't ask for a second chance, he just wanted to take a walk with me some day. And if that went ok, maybe do stuff that we had planned to do.

I met him a few times, really enjoyed my time with him. We had fun together, shared many laughs and happy moments. We agreed to keep things a secret from our mutual friends, just in case things don't work out.

Something strange happened. I turned my girlfriend mode on, wanted to stop seeing my Misters. Mister Black told me that I shouldn't do it, he doesn't want to be treated any differently than all my other guys. "You sure?" I asked. He said yes, but my feelings for him are much deeper than some random Mister. I dumped every single colourful guy, every Mister, just to be with my Mister Black. I'm such an idiot.

Well, shit hit the fan. I found myself feeling the same way I did before I was miserable. I wanted to turn back time, maybe a year or so, to the happiest summer I've ever experienced. That lasted for a week.

During the week we had the most stupid fights I can imagine. He installed Tinder, just to see what all the fuss was about. He didn't tell me about it, I found out myself. Wednesday morning, I saw his phone light up with a few push messages from Tinder. I wasn't jealous, I had no reason to be. I simply said "Oh, you have Tinder? Good for you, I hope you find what you're looking for" and started World War III. He became all weird and accused me of sleeping with all kinds of guys (he was right, but he had no right to be angry at me). He left my home slamming doors - I guess my reaction wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to be the jealous girlfriend, although we weren't even dating? I didn't get it. The next few days were rough. He was seeking for attention, I didn't give it to him.

Weekend came. I made plans to be with Mister Black. He did a no-show. Twice.

That was it. I can't believe that he slipped back to being the shitty person that he is in a week. I won't give him any third chances, we all know that he's a terrible boyfriend. I woke up on Sunday morning with my mind going "what the HELL was I thinking?" 


I sent him a message saying: "Don't text me anymore. Have a great summer." That was it, at least for now.

Leaving Mister Yellow

Mister Yellow and I had been seeing each other for two months now. He made several suggestions that our relationship would advance to the next level and to be honest, I actually considered it.

Sunday.
I came home from Portugal in the morning. I actually texted Mister Yellow from Portugal, told him that I miss him (which was entirely true), asking him to meet me when I come home. Of course he was up for it, we hadn't seen each other for almost a week. We made a date, decided to have dinner and go to the movies, and I was to spend the night at his flat like we use to.

We had dinner at his place before going to the movies. He cooked, again, and it was delicious, as always. Before we left for the movies, I went to the loo and saw my toothbrush in its place, in the little beige cup next to his toothbrush. It made me smile.

Everything was really perfect. I enjoyed my time with him. I actually thought of saying something stupid, like admitting that I like him. A lot. I could have easily fallen in love with him. If only he'd ask me once more, and I would have been his girlfriend for life. He asked me about my trip to Portugal. I told him everything, the fact that I picked up a random guy at the airport, went abroad with him for four days and hugged him good-bye at the airport in the morning. He took it all really well, I guess.

We had amazing sex in the evening. Afterwards, lying in his arms (I was really sensitive), I told him that I like him. That I missed him on my trip. I still can't believe what he replied. "That's what they all say." Speechless. Ice-freaking-cold.

I was preparing to go to bed, went to the bathroom to brush my teeth when suddenly my toothbrush had disappeared from its regular spot - I mean, it spontaneously vanished from the place where I had just seen it. Puzzled, I went to the living room, asked him where my toothbrush had gone. He went to his dressing room, to the last closet in the back, dug out a distressed-looking washing bag packed with toothbrushes. He dug around the bag (filled with like, thirty toothbrushes) and asked me "which one was yours again? I get confused.". That was it. He tried to make me jealous... WHY?! I freaking liked him, why would he do such a stupid thing like that?

Manipulating me, trying to make me jealous, tricks... They don't work on me. Not at all. At that point I became cold as hell, went to bed, told him good night.
Monday morning, off to work again. He was really sweet in the morning, the way he usually is. I just couldn't get over the toothbrush business, I was still kind of furious. We had made plans for Wednesday. Shit. I wanted to get out of it.

...
Radio silence for 24 hours.
...

Text messages between me and Yellow, Tuesday morning 9 o'clock:
Me: I think we need to stop seeing each other.
Y: Honeybunny, what's wrong?
Me: I broke my rules. I like you. Shit go wrong when I like you. I can't see you anymore.
Y: Let me know if you change your mind.

And that was it.

Fuck. I really, really liked this one.

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.