A little Mystery Please

Since I didn't offer Patrick a fair chance the first night I met him, I decided to go out with him again. I met him at his house and had a few beers before going out. We had good, but serious conversation. He wasn't uptight, but there were not enough laughs for me. Sarcasm did not seem to be a term in his vocabulary. He was very cute, successful and met all other criteria. But there wasn't that initial overwhelming sexual attraction.

We returned to his house and listened to music. We started making out on the sofa. He was good, much like Jew Boy. He told me repeatedly how great of a kisser I was and how he could do it forever. I didn't have the desire to have any kind of sexual relations with him, so I made my way home.

As I was driving, but no where near home yet, Patrick sent a text message. "I had a good time tonight and want to see you again soon. I miss you already."

Maybe it was the bitch in me, but I was irritated by his message. No breathing time. No time to come down from where we had just been and he was already talking about seeing me again. For me, there has to be some sort of build up. Something unknown, a little mystery. With Patrick, that didn't exist.