[78.3] Have you ever moved too fast with someone?
[Have you ever moved too fast with someone?]
When I first moved to New York and left Sam behind (at the time we had had one dinner and he had come to see me off and help me pack - it was nice) I - I made a few mistakes. There were a few, well, for lack of a better word, slutty bumps in the road. My pseudo new roommate and I should not have touched each other but when he sits there, shirtless - sometimes pantsless and plays guitar? So, he buys a kitten and then -- things just did not work. He moved out. Then there was Seth. Irish. Bar owner. Perfectly respectable. Some would say downright yummy. But, things weren't ... right, there. It was great for what it was - but New York wasn't working for me. And in those two pseudo relationships I did in fact move too fast. Way, actually. Way. Too. Fast. I didn't sleep with either of them but I led them on. And that was wrong.
With Sam, it was the exact opposite. We didn't move to fast. It was great. It wasn't frustrating. It felt nice. Good, even. I know, I said great earlier. It was great. It was great because it was with Sam. And because we did things our way. And I mean this in a loving way, but Sam doesn't do anything too fast...and I don't mean that in a dirty way. I just mean, he does things within a good time limit and he thinks before he speaks. I on the other hand, who couldn't keep my mouth shut (literally, I was gaping) - sometimes I move too fast.
In New York it stemmed from something missing. Maybe it was Sam. I like to think that was what it was. But, either way, it's in the past and I'm not ashamed. It's why I'm not locking this.
Because locking is no fun, anyway. I have absolutely nothing to hide.
When I first moved to New York and left Sam behind (at the time we had had one dinner and he had come to see me off and help me pack - it was nice) I - I made a few mistakes. There were a few, well, for lack of a better word, slutty bumps in the road. My pseudo new roommate and I should not have touched each other but when he sits there, shirtless - sometimes pantsless and plays guitar? So, he buys a kitten and then -- things just did not work. He moved out. Then there was Seth. Irish. Bar owner. Perfectly respectable. Some would say downright yummy. But, things weren't ... right, there. It was great for what it was - but New York wasn't working for me. And in those two pseudo relationships I did in fact move too fast. Way, actually. Way. Too. Fast. I didn't sleep with either of them but I led them on. And that was wrong.
With Sam, it was the exact opposite. We didn't move to fast. It was great. It wasn't frustrating. It felt nice. Good, even. I know, I said great earlier. It was great. It was great because it was with Sam. And because we did things our way. And I mean this in a loving way, but Sam doesn't do anything too fast...and I don't mean that in a dirty way. I just mean, he does things within a good time limit and he thinks before he speaks. I on the other hand, who couldn't keep my mouth shut (literally, I was gaping) - sometimes I move too fast.
In New York it stemmed from something missing. Maybe it was Sam. I like to think that was what it was. But, either way, it's in the past and I'm not ashamed. It's why I'm not locking this.
Because locking is no fun, anyway. I have absolutely nothing to hide.