Buddy and I have had a lovely weekend. After an initial hiccup last week where I told him that I had issue with the fact that we didn't talk about anything that mattered.
It bothered that he seemed to lack passion. Not in the sexual sense. More in the "life and things that matter" sense. A passion for life, for learning, for experiences. A drive for more than this. It's something I have and can't imagine being without. It's what keeps things interesting. It's what I respect. I need someone who has honest to goodness beliefs and a passion for those beliefs.
I had begun to question if this all there was to him and if i could be with someone who didn't have this and who couldn't share with me. I mean, when I'm a crone with saggy tits and jowls and no teeth, what else is there going to be other than good conversation.
And this weekend, we talked. About stuff and nonsense. And it was wonderful.
And I've begun to realise that he is indeed growing on me. It hit me this morning, he'd sent me a photograph of him from a year ago with ringlets in his hair. He looked terrible, it made me laugh. And instead of thinking "Oh dear god! What am I dating?" I thought it was endearing and didn't think it looked too bad.
Blinded? Perhaps :) And willingly so.
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