So I spent about twenty-five hours with her, including the time that she was asleep in another room, on another bed. I picked her up at home and drove her to my house we talked and then I made food and then we ate food and she pretended to like it. We watched Doctor Who while she wore my sweater and then we went for a walk. And then I did an inappropriate thing and then she forgave me. Then we walked some more and we went wading in the water at midnight. No skinny dipping, my night vision is too good. We talked and then we walked some more and she noticed that there were northern lights in the sky so we walked to a darker location and watched them. Then we walked back to my place attempting to intice cats back to my place. Then I gave her a short massage before I nearly fell asleep and then I left her to go to my room. I fell asleep and then she fell asleep later. I woke up and wrote a blog entry and then she woke up and read my blog entry. I did something inappropriate before that and I had to rectify it, then she read my blog entry. And then we talked and cried.
She does not want to be more than friends: lovers, because she wanted to be more than lovers: friends. She sees talking as great and the entire point and does not want it to be a prelude to sex, because then it will be just that, a prelude to sex. And then what we were talking about will be lost and only the sex will remain in our memories. I see talking as great and see sex as an interlude, a intermission if you will, from which talk would continue after. Maybe I see it that way because if I saw it the other way nothing would get accomplished; we would just be having sex all the time. I don't see talking as a means to sex, rather sex as on it's own and talk on its own, two different things, two different unrelated things. At worst, I see sex as something to accomplish before we start to talk, because it clears the mind of stray emotions. Maybe something at the end, something once out of the way, life can continue. Which odd, I obsess over sex, but when I have it I usually do not enjoy it at all. If it was enjoyable perhaps I would not remember anything. Or maybe it is her, maybe sex for her clears her mind of what was said before.
Whatever the case, what I do know is that I enjoy talking to her and having her expand my mind to encompass other things. I really like hugging her, touch is something that I have not had a lot of in my life and I really love it when others touch me. Kissing, I want to kiss her. I have had relationships where people could not kiss me for some reason and I did not feel very connected to them. I have had casual relationships with lots of kissing and I have really enjoyed them. It would be nice to have kissing with someone I have a real connection with, though I suspect it might kill me. Sex would still be just an experiment, to see what the affects of it would be with her. Would I become her slave that she could order me off a cliff and I would comply. But, only if she wants to too, and not until after a long while. To kiss would be bliss.
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