The list keeps getting bigger...

I've done yet another stupid thing, the list just doesn't seem to end.

Friday I was having a wonderful time dancing round to music I really couldn't pick a beat to - Drum'n'bass. I was chatting to people I hadn't seen in months, and basically having a good time. I felt pretty, flighty and flirty. For most of the evening there had been something I'd wanted to say to one person in particular, and for some reason I felt that this was the night that I'd allow myself to be a little more flirtatious.

He has been, for a long time, someone who I found very attractive. Softly spoken, sweet, funny, witty and very good looking in a Gerard Butler way (so maybe we'll call him GBL? Gerard Butler Lookalike). Since the time I first knicked his chip, or even earlier than that (three years ago? Maybe earlier?) I've always had a soft spot for him. I'd sneakily ask for a hug, or just try to make him laugh (I don't know why he always had such a bright smile). Whenever I was around his friends, I'd always find myself asking after him. When he'd allow his hair to grow a little, I'd always found that it softened him and made him look so good. And those green eyes, so serene, quite peaceful really. What always got me a little worried was his ability to keep me talking. Sure it doesn't take much for me to get talking, but he was always the type to keep very quiet and allow people to talk. When we'd met up one evening for him to help me out with my research, we'd stayed for a couple of drinks and I found myself gabbing on about things that I didn't tell most people, and I couldn't believe it. Yes, you could say I've been fond of him for some time.

So Friday, in between dances and moving between floors I found myself keeping an eye out to see what his dance moves were like. He wasn't that bad, but very 'white man kinda has skills'. It was drum and bass, what could I expect? In between tunes and shifting of floors, we'd catch each other and tease one another. It wasn't until we were getting refreshments that I turned to him and said, "You're looking good out there, and may I add, in general." He gave a nod, slight smile and replied, "Why thank you, and so are you." The dancing continued, but I was getting quite tired and asked if I was taking people home. I ordered my cab and decided to give my ear drums a rest and sat on the couches in the lobby. GBL found me as he walked up the stairs and took up my invite (the whole tapping the spot next to me on the couch). We chatted for a bit until I got a call which I took outside. When I came back, I snuggled next to him and continued talking.

I then quietly said that there was something that I'd wanted to tell him, then changed my mind and said I couldn't. His arm came round me and he said in his sexy, deep, soft spoken voice, "Of course you can tell me." Now for most of the night I'd been rehearsing in my head a ditzy, cute but flirtatious line I thought I could get away with - because I know I can do that so well (sadly enough). Unfortunately, my head wasn't wired properly and instead I leaned forward, away from him and said "If there weren't complications, I'd fancy him like hell." I then paused, realised what I'd said and thought to hell with it, and said, "No, things are complicated, I fancy you like hell." I let it sink in, continuing to look ahead, until I heard his voice. I turned to him as he agreed with me that things were a little complicated, and he waited until I leaned back a little and was looking straight at him to say, "I feel the same way." I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching slightly into a smile. He then leaned in and added, "I mean, you're stunning." I don't know why, but my face just distorted into a confused look. I never thought he found me attractive in any way. I always found an excuse to touch him, hug him, play with his hair, wrap my arms around his neck, peck his cheek. In his cool laid back manner, I just never got the impression that he may have had the slightest interest in me. And here we were, sitting on a leather couch in a club very quietly telling the other that yes there was an attraction and no, we couldn't do anything about it.

For a few moments we sat there and stared at each other. And for a second I knew that he was thinking the same thing I was "Could we get away with a sneaky kiss?" Oh how I wanted to kiss him, I was so curious. I know we would have slowly leaned into each other, closed our eyes and held our breathe until our lips touched. I know he would have had lovely, soft lips. I know it would have started off gently and slow, and possibly would escalate into a more passionate link. I cupped his right cheek with my hand and brought myself closer, leaning my head slightly. My lips met his cheek and there the rested. I then whispered, "Happy birthday GBL." We looked at each other and quietly smiled.

Our moment didn't last as a couple of his friends, one of whom was involved in our set of 'complications' came to sit with us and say their goodbyes. My cab finally arrived and I went to grab my things. As I said my goodbyes to everyone, I walked to GBL and as I went to give him his usual peck, he wrapped his arms around me. I was slightly taken aback as he always held back and never gave me a proper hug, or from what I could see from the one he was giving me. His arms kept hold of me and as I felt them closing in more, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face against his. As we pulled away, his arms very slowly came away from my waist, his fingers lingering on my waist, before giving it a cheeky pinch. I giggled and left.

I knew I had just done something very foolish, and there was so much I had wanted to say. I had managed to say that I'd didn't have completely innocent intentions when we met up for my testing, which he said he'd enjoyed. But I wanted to tell him that I had been wanting him for so long. I wanted to kiss him! I wanted him. I messed things up. Now I just added more to it................. but who am I kidding? If I really didn't want it to happen, I would do the sensible thing and avoid it completely.

.....................which may explain why we didn't kiss that night.

Love or lust...?

According to my horoscope I should be careful about confusing lust for love and the other way round, that I should look deep into my feeling to know which I'm truly feeling. I thought I did know. I thought I had it sorted and that I knew which was which, I think I've got it sussed to a certain degree.

On a superficial level, I find him to be sexy, gorgeous, tasty and I just want to rip the clothes of his body and do terrible things to it – lust. On a deeper level, I find him to be wonderful, sweet, charming, funny, kind, old fashioned, considerate and sexy – love? I can't help but watch his pouty lips when he talks, when his green eyes light up, when his cheeks touch his eyes as he smiles or laugh. I can't help but watch his hands as he gestures or rests them somewhere, wondering if they'll ever rest on me. Is it wrong to wish that his arms would find their way around my shoulders instead of the back of his chair to rest on? Is it wrong to wish that I could rest my head on his shoulders or wrap my arms around his neck?

Friday night at Fabric, as he stood there in his t-shirt and jeans, I just couldn't help but feel fat. Looking at his t-shirt stretch over his fit and trim body, how as he raised his arms I got a peak of his trim and solid stomach, how his jeans hung a couple of inches under his navel. Could there be a sexier image? The teasing image of what lies beneath? Knowing that there's more hidden under a flimsy bit of cotton material that could be ripped of or slowly unbuttoned? How I wanted to reach out, allow my fingertips to stroke his hip bones, letting my fingers wrap around his waist, hooking my thumbs in his shirt and slowly lift it up to...

Ok, so that entire paragraph screams lust. So I have the intentions, I have every intention of doing nasty things to this man. I've had every possibility to pull his face to mine and show him just how passionately I feel about him. And yet I just can never bring myself to carry out the act – not even the simple act of gently brushing his face with my hand. Something holds me back. I finally realised what it was, I am not in a rush to push him into it. He is not ready to start something and this time around I realise I'm not to spoil it by being my usual self. I always initiate things, rush in, or doing something truly foolish to make the first move. This time it's different. This time I will wait until he is ready. If I'm not the person for him, at least I'd be able to rest in the knowledge that I didn't push him into something he didn't want or wasn't ready for. He needs time and that's what I'll give him. During that time, I'll sit on my hands, I'll continue to adore him from afar and wonder what it would be like to wear that shirt of his one day...

How the non-date went

Oh gosh, how evenings change and how perceptions really do turn around when you're in warmer surroundings. My evening out turned out to be a lot better than I had originally anticipated. The butterflies melted away when I stood at the station waiting for him. As I saw the tall, dark figure walking towards me, I couldn't help but smile. The Cuban restaurant we were going to was closed and so we walked to the South Bank to go to a new restaurant, Iguanas.

We sat at the bar and thankfully he did most of the talking. I found him to be such an interesting and entertaining character. He had some interesting stories to tell and used such enthusiasm that made me giggle. He wasn't out to charm me, which I really liked (I'm not comfortable with open flirtation when it's one sided). He definitely made me laugh and we nearly had an embarrassing incident when I was taking a sip from my drink and he'd said something rather silly. Thankfully I've mastered the ability to hold my mouthful before the laugh comes out.

Looking at his mutton chops (thick side burns and beard, with a bridge moustache), I realised he's very good looking. He had thick, black hair in a length that I really find sexy. His eyes were a gorgeous dark brown, and although the moustache was slightly hiding his upper lip, he had such a friendly and warm smile. His 6'5 frame was very slim, with long limbs, but he never seemed awkward or gawky, but very comfortable. He'd had a long time to get used to them, and he was, he wasn't going to apologise for his frame. He had a certain confidence which I liked, a person who's happy with himself in a quiet manner. It occurred to me that the mutton chops were his way of experimenting. The man knows he's not ugly and can afford to play with his looks. He has nothing to prove.

Somewhere in the evening during our conversation it occurred to us that we both had different views of the evening. I hadn't thought of it as a date and apparently he was under the impression that it was! I was flattered, I was under the strict impression that I wasn't his type and was happy to think that I'd made a new and interesting friend. It wasn't until when place closed and we were outside standing on the steps proving how many I needed to meet his eye level, that we were both curious as to how the other kissed...

Under the street lamp is...

I wish I wasn't 26.
I wish I wasn't addicted to men.
I wish I didn't have a weakness for men who have sweet smiles, but even sexier voices.
I wish I didn't have a weakness for men who are 6'+.

Dr. Pete Finch tells Adison that he's going to kiss her, and kiss her with tongue so she can feel it. My mind drifts to that night, standing under the street lamp, staring into each other's eyes, our respective hands in our pockets. He stands there looking down at me with such a sexy smile. "I was just wondering if I could kiss you." It was probably from the sambuca I had minutes earlier which probably made me bug my eyes. I started babbling, but that didn't put him off. He leaned in and I could feel a pair of lips press against mine. I was quiet and I was lifted away...

I love that feeling. Those 'lamp light' moments where you can feel the tension, your heart flutters, your skin tingles. You may close your eyes but you can see what's coming. Your lips part in slight anticipation. Your curiosity reaches its peak, wondering how they'll kiss you, will it be good? Will it be earth shattering? Will it be like two slugs meeting in the night? Will he smell good or will he stink of garlic? Or worse, are you going to get hooked on him?

My hands never left my pockets that night, but they didn't need to. My lips were tingling and I honestly couldn't think of anything. I was lost in that moment. I want more of those moments. I will one day meet someone who will always give me those moments. Moments where my breath is caught in my throat. Moments where I cannot feel my toes because all the blood is rushing to my head. Moments where my hands want to be everywhere but can't because I only have two of them. Moments where I don't want them to end. I will meet someone like that, I just have to get past all the frogs first...