Following your heart means losing your mind

Song of the day first this time. It's Ratatat's Wildcat. 

Do you know when you get the "I should do this, I should do that, why haven't I done that already, I really have to think about that" mood? And then you run out of money. And then something emotional happens. Suddenly you're so deep in your thoughts again that you don't know which way is up and which down. Deadline for an essay is lurking in the corner, the vacation is almost over and back to work soon and school starts in few weeks and I haven't picked the courses and and and...

"Do you believe in Fate? Are we but trains, traversing on rails laid before us, given only an illusion of freedom?

If our lives are predetermined, shouldn't it be simple to peer into the future and see the end of the rails? If choice is but an illusion, why do you spend so much time worrying about whether yours was right? If there are no options, why do you ponder at what-ifs?"

This is a piece a friend of mine wrote for a photography portfolio. I find myself pondering about it often. I've been playing the "is it better" game in my head again. And of course it has something to do with men. I've met a man.

So confusing, so assertive and same time shy, insecure and cocky, funny but so serious man. So confusing that I have no idea what it is about him. Why I blush when he looks deep into my eyes, why do my knees go weak when he kisses me. And mostly why do I want to tear off his clothes and then mine and lay in bed until someone forces us out of it.

He makes me confused, but mostly in a good way. Though I found out something about myself that I hoped didn't exist. Long story short.

 We met in the internet. Of course. Where else people meet other people anymore? He is from another country. Of course since apparently there's something wrong with Finnish men. I was in the forest for a week doing field work for my masters thesis and the next day I left, he came here. But our paths crossed. I knew I had about 24h time to meet him when I got home. So after being a wildling with nature growing in my eyes and the wind and the rain in my hair, I came home, threw my stuff on the floor and left to meet him.

It wasn't a date. We both knew it wasn't. It wasn't romantic, it was fun. It was casual. It was natural. Natural was to talk with him, joke with him, dance with him, hang out with him. And because of that it was natural to kiss him. It was natural to get weak knees. We spent the night talking and making out like teenagers.

He left the next day. 

He also stayed the next day. He postponed his leave for a week. So we met again. It was natural again, and again the time just flew by. We spent the night kissing, spooning and what else innocent you can do with your clothes on. 

He wants to take it slow.

And here's the thing. It drives me crazy. I've never had the "problem" that the person I like doesn't want to sleep with me. Quite the opposite. If someone is willing to kiss me, they're usually more than happy to make me forget the world entirely.

And he's so fucking sexy. The way he kisses, the way he touches... It's hot. I want to pounce him, scratch him, rip off my clothes in front of him. I want to make him see that it would be a good idea to get oh so very naked.

But he doesn't want me. Maybe he doesn't find me attractive after all. He says he does. He says he doesn't want to fuck it up. I look at him my head tilted. Is he serious? Does he mean it? Is he serious with me? Is this getting too serious? But if it is going to be serious, what does it matter how soon we do it. He is leaving the country in few days anyway!

Hold on. Am I trying to pressure someone to have sex with me? What the hell? What have I become?

This is the point I threw him out. Or I will do something I'll regret. Either torture myself around him so much that I will feel like shit and cry, or turn into somekind of monster who pressures someone to have sex with them. Distance is a good idea.

But I like him. No idea why, but I do. 

And now he doesn't answer my message.

I guess it was me who fucked it up. In relationships, either way, we are screwed. And not in a good way.