Oh life! How I love thee!
As a single woman who is not committed to Tattoo Guy and am still trying to figure out where the fuck I want to take my life, I had a run-in with my hot neighbor last night. Hot Neighbor is an actual adult, with a real job and does adult things like, well, I don’t know, but they’re very “adult,” and I find this to be extremely attractive on top of him being Hot Neighbor.
Last night I got home after some heart-to-heart bullshit with Tattoo Guy, and invited my neighbor Alex over to entertain me since I was wide awake and needed a buddy. Alex, also considering Hot Neighbor to be more than easy on the eyes, suggested we invite him to come play with us. So, as if we’re in a dorm, because it was past midnight, we waltzed on down to Hot Neightbor’s apartment, (he was a sleep, mind you, because he’s an adult) and asked him to come hang out. Having today off, he agreed.
And it was great and fun, and involved things like drugs and drinking and some voyeursim (damn that Alex) that I won’t get into, but what it came down to is one thing led to another and I ended up in Hot Neighbor’s apartment having sex. Apparently, my hedonism phase is still going strong, but I plan to reel that shit in once I’m in Colorado for a month.
But the problem is I have a Peter Pan complex. I know, as a woman, this is not normally associated with my gender, but it’s true. So in the middle of this great, aggressive sex that involved knocking shit over and falling off the bed, he stopped to ask me for what I’m looking. I was confused. I wasn’t looking for anything at the moment and was concentrating on him. But, with further explanation, he wanted to know what I was looking for long term. My answer: “a book deal, and I’ll figure the rest out later.” Wrong answer.
“You don’t want to get married and have kids? That’s kinda weird.” he said.
“Well, not at the moment. Someday, but not right now.”
“But you’re old enough that you should want that!” he exclaimed.
“True. But not right now.”
The sex abruptly came to an end, but not before he again told me that I should want those things. I asked him to hand me my clothes which, before I revealed my lack of interest in a conventional storybook ending he had torn off me with such fervor, I’ll need to get the zipper fixed, and left — where I proceeded to cry back up the stairs to my apartment.
I cried because I’m leaving the city I love once again because of a man with whom I can’t stop being in love. I cried because maybe Hot Neighbor was right. I cried because I was exhausted and hadn’t packed that night the way I swore I would. But mostly I cried because my biological clock is in off mode and while I think that’s a great thing for me right now, he was the first person to actually question it with an air of disdain.
When I got back to my place Alex was asleep in my bed. I crawled into bed with him and cried some more. I’m really hoping the next time I’m having sex with someone he doesn’t stop midway through because of such a reason; any other reason will do. If I’m not sex material because I don’t want to settle down just yet, then fuck ’em. Fuck anyone who thinks it’s “weird” that I’m just not there yet.