I’ve had a lovely date tonight. With a different man to ‘the fling’.
It’s currently half past midnight, we spent nearly six hours together. We ate dinner – he educated me on sushi – and then we got drunk together at a bar. We each went to our separate homes.
He was flirty from the first Tinder message, but my brand of flirty. A littlr but awkward, but still forthcoming. A little bit nerdy, but still with clear intentions.
He touched my hand. He touched my arm. He guided me by the waist. I’m not generally a fan of these paternalistic, flirty manoeuvres. But this was pleasant. It’s nice to feel wanted and dainty and attractive.
He’s coming over tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.