Let me just start off by saying that she's not looking for The One, she's just lookin for one. And I guess that's where I am too. Pot smoking aside, Marian's a very engaging person. She's a student of life who's trying to learn whatever she can from the people who pass in and out of her life. She's not trying to impress anybody, she takes life one day at a time.
Is this not at least a little bit like buying a car? Test drive it, don't take the first one you see, try to bargain but don't try to steal it? At any rate, we would probably make better friends than girlfriends, but I've been advised that next week is available if I'd like to spend more time with her. The conversation floated in and out of all the "get to know you" topics.
Which are my favorite, by the way.
Knowing people is like a personal hobby of mine. Searching out their secrets, asking them questions like "what are you afraid of?" and "what one thing makes you the most happy?"
We lingered outside before I left, leaning on my car. She did that sly maneuver - scratched her head, put her arm down behind me, and put her hand on my waist. Even so, she's taking me slow. It was chilly and I was in a really short skirt (the zipper on which busted at some point between my bedroom where I zipped it, and the bathroom 3 hours later - woops!). Her last relationship was kind crazy and the woman's being really manipulative. She got a text message from her saying, in essence, "I see how it is, you're with that girl so you won't talk to me." If that ain't manipulative, I don't know what is.
I told her about my relationship with my mom. First Christmas without her, she sent me money to purchase a piece of nice jewelry. "What are you going to buy?"
"Oh, I don't know. I do love pearls... I bought a beautiful string of pearls in Turkey and that's when I fell in love with them. They make these really long strands that can be draped quite long..."
I told her about this scene that I envision when I think of pearls - that I would be home waiting for the object of my affections to return from a day at work, that I would present myself, nude, kneeling, with the pearls draped down to my navel. A welcome home gift for a special occasion. She agreed that would be pretty hot.
"I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay, and then you can go home to do your homework..." The people who had been loitering in the car park at her apartment had wandered off and we were alone for a bit. She was tentative, cautious with me, and now I just wish I could have had more.
I'm still confused as to what kissing really is. Do you just mash lips together? Throw in some sugar and spice and everything nice and tada! A kiss. No? I would like to have some practice because I'm still lost. One thing I can already tell is that I like lots of earnest, searching tongue.
Because Miss Avarice is a hungry bitch and not interested in being tempted if you're not going to take me.
P.S. I'm not going to tell her about Miss Avarice.