I'm just a fucked-up girl looking for her own piece of mind.

Old habits die hard.

I didn't consider it a date, really. I didn't even think it would be like that. But he's paying for everything and giving me the stare that, were we animals, he would be licking his teeth. The kind of stare Alan used to give me. He's opening my door and telling me I'm beautiful.

I didn't sign up for that!

I kind-of sort-of have a man now. I kind-of sort-of am involved right now. Even if I was thinking this morning about how the Editor is getting too close too fast and I don't know how to ask him politely to slow his role. I am battling infatuation and refuse to call him my boyfriend until I know that it is attraction and not infatuation that draws me. I am fighting the "Oh-my-God-a-straight-male-said-i'm-pretty" syndrome. Jesus fuck.

We talked like we were old friends.

But I'm seeing the Editor tomorrow, and the last time we were together we kissed.

This would turn out best if I could just freeze this moment in time, because -somebody- is not going to like the outcome.