Till There Was You

So, the impossible has happened. I have found myself half of a pair, or rather, I'm in a relationship. And, I have to be honest, I am not good at it.

At all.

I like the guy. A lot, actually. He is very sweet, has two dogs, has a tattoo of the Celtic Tree of Life on his back, hates PDA save for goodbye kisses, the list goes on and on. It's just that he likes spending time with me. Now, normally, that would be a good thing. In fact, so many women want their boyfriends to want to spend their time in their company. I, however, have gotten used to my space, my me-time, and many of my solo adventures. The single life has spoiled me, to the point where I get uncomfortable if the same guy texts me more than ten times a day.

My guard is severely up this time around. I'm fine with the whole idea of monogamy, at least for the time being, but I'm not yet sold on the whole let's-spend-a-shit-ton-of-time-together-honeymoon-stage crap. I want to prolong that couply hibernation as long as I can so that my escape plan is very strong, very sturdy, and very much on standby. It's not because I don't like the guy, it's simply because I need the space before one of us gives in and wants it to become super-dooper disgustingly serious.