Shields are Up

I just had one of those moments where you look at the clock, and then again one minute later, and somehow over an hour has passed. I’m hoping that the clocks have just gone forward, rather than me losing an hour inexplicably.

I just had a date. A third one. With a boy I think I quite like. As I drove home though, I wasn’t filled with giddy excitement so much as feeling furious at myself. I’m pushing him away and I don’t want to, but I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it.

We met online, and talked most if not every day for a month before our first date. As far as first dates go, it was nice, we were both clearly nervous as we talked too fast and remained relatively formal. We both agreed that we’d had a nice evening and would like to see each other again, so arranged for date number two, where he picked me up and drove me home. It was another lovely evening, and we again decided to meet up again, which was this evening. Bearing in mind this is two dates in and no moves made, I sort of had the idea of inviting him back to mine after dinner, so it wasn’t so awkward. He did come back, and we watched a film. He put his arm around me, which was sweet. I started to get really nervous, and as soon as the film ended, rather than let him make another move, I suggested I should probably take him home and dashed off to the loo. I kicked myself, but thought there’s always before we leave and in the car. But no, subconsciously blocked him on both those occasions too.

I could understand it if I didn’t like him, and didn’t want anything to happen, but I do and I do. It’s almost as if it’s the anticipation that’s causing me the issue, I can’t handle waiting to see what will happen so run away instead - sometimes metaphorically, sometimes less so. I’m just so pissed off with myself. In the car I could so clearly see him gearing up to it, but I just said see you later instead. In fact, I think I said take care. That’s even worse.

If my wheel didn’t have a horn in the middle, I would have face planted it.