Somebody Make Me Shut Up

I will try to keep the number of times I say, “I don’t know,” to a minimum, as Laura points out I repeat that phrase A LOT when I’m talking about Flyboy.

Tuesday evening I went back to the cabin and to meet him. We watched some TV, ate dinner, hung out. It was nice. Except the part where I asked him questions. Questions like, “What are your deal breakers?” And, “Say something sweet to me.”

Yeah, I know. Shut up. I have no idea why I say those kinds of things. I really don’t want to re-live the whole thing so I won’t go into details except to say that at one point, I asked him wasn’t he glad that I wanted to know what his deal breakers were and he laughed and said, “Well, uh, I GUESS,” in just that tone and continued by saying that he figures this is just him and either I like it or I don’t.

…

I felt supremely foolish by the end of the evening and told him so. He apologized and said he hadn’t meant to make me feel that way.

Clearly, I left feeling like I had made several tactical errors (bringing up the freaking deal breakers thing, letting him know I was curious as to what his were, further letting him know that I thought he would/should care that it mattered what his were, blah, blah, blah. Fuck this is tedious) although I couldn’t tell exactly how serious they were. I mean, I didn’t pout when my blatant attempt at fishing for information/compliment mongering didn’t work and we had a good time. But still.

He called that evening (good sign), but I was on the phone (that’s another story). He left a message and it was late by the time I got done so I called him back the next day, which was yesterday. And I haven't heard from him.

What do you make of that?