There appears to be no catch...he's not suddenly leaving the country, he hasn't died of dysentery on the Oregon Trail and he hasn't decided over the phone *cough, cough* to just be my friend. It appears that he really, and truly likes me...without the help of alcohol or sex (thank you very much). So now instead of the mantra, "John don't fuck this up..." it has quickly turned into, "Melina don't fuck this up!"

It's tough in those beginning days...that see-saw of behavior. You want to show him that you think he rocks, but you don't want to look too clingy...

I wait for his emails. I get one, I'm elated...and then I have to wait to write him back. The minutes thunder in my ears as I wait. I spent my day at work, half working and half thinking, "What's he doing?" "What are we going to do the next time we hang out?" "Does he regret some of the things he said to me? He was pretty damn open about it." "Should I have gushed more about how I felt?" "Does he understand why I didn't gush?" "How much was real, and how much was to get in my pants..." (because although I think he's mostly sincere...I'm sure there was a little flattery to loosen the jeans). These are just some of the feverishly buzzing thoughts (read: nonsensical craziness) that are bouncing around my head, but I have a facade of sheer calm. I could become a pro at this, but I would prefer that we just said everything on our minds...but that too, could be scary.