Oh wait... Isn't it?

I give birth to many thoughts in the wee hours. And most of these thoughts are plain horrifyingly regretful ones. I kinda am feeling pretty awesome yet shitty about myself these days. You know, takin yet another downtime from work, twice in a year is a luxury not a lot of people wish to claim their own. No Monday blues, just Mom's stares. All good and cruising.

I really HATE the initial phase of dating, getting to know someone, wanting to plunge soul deep into the person yet having to keep constantly reminding myself to hit the brakes. But wait... Am I not a strong independent woman of the 21st century who obviously can hold her ground? So why should I be holding back like a little coy peasant girl and not make any bold move at all?

"No darling, that's not how it works", said all the single women who call themselves love gurus. The other night I wailed to a friend, "I am so tired of having to have a relationship. I am so tired of games, guessing what he's thinking and all. I OBVIOUSLY want to have an earth shattering relationship and tower shaking sex (not forgetting trippy morning kisses and kitchen sex yup) all at full throttle but that's not how the game is played. I have to wear the shrimp costume and beautifully position myself at the end of the fishing line, waiting for him to come take a bite --- and mind you, one bite at a time! Don't we all live in the digital age now? This is WHY I'm so tired! I am so tired of being scared that I'll scare him away, I am so tired of having to pull the brakes. And most of the time, that just makes me feel I'm better off having a toy boy. No relationship, no love, no inordinate fascination of marriage, and hallucinations of us exchanging wedding vows."

Oh, but an honest piece of truth here: I didn't pull the brakes this time when it comes to sex. Maybe it's because of the 10-month celibacy I had, having someone desires me this way was such a big turn on. And so I couldn't keep my panties on. What a shame. Built up sexual tension is so sexy and I think I just heard you say you forgive me.

So I slept with Calvin on our sixth date. Statistically speaking, in the eyes of everyone, six dates sounds about right. But hang on, we had our six dates all in a week -- how's that? He was so into me that he had to see me every day. And I guess that did the trick for me. I got more and more into him (boy knows what he's doing oh yeah) and wanted to see him too. So before we even did the act, I pranced up and down in his living room for a good five minutes while he's in the shower (his neighbours prolly thought I was working out), recalling every dating tips and articles I have ever read on the Internet and kept questioning if I should sleep with him or not. 

"Yo, you only knew him on the 7th Dec. You first met him on the 24th Dec. Today is the 1st Jan 2016. Isn't it a little too soon? But we already had six dates! And it's perfectly fine if I check if he's a girl in disguise or not! If he's not, it's perfectly fine for me to check his package too!" 

In the end, I succumbed to my raging hormones and blamed it on New Year's Day. On a consolation note, at least, it's special. It happened on New Year's Day. And we first met on Christmas Eve. THESE must mean SOMETHING right?

And I think I am in love. 

P/S I so don't want yet another failure.