Inappropriate Obsession

I decided to wear my new shoes. They're not my usual style, they're very pointy, very high stilettos in a shockingly provocative patent red. Perhaps the exhibitionist side of me that's taken over recently had an influence when I saw them glistening on the shelf in front of me. I once heard an expression that only prostitutes and children wear red shoes.

I met J on Saturday night. It was a gorgeous evening; warm and inviting. We went for drinks and shared a bottle of rosé during constant chat and giggles. I found I was confident enough to tease him both physically and verbally. We kissed between chats and I felt more comfortable with him than I have with anyone for a while. He stunned me at one point by sharing a pretty personal and dark experience from his recent past. I'm not sure exactly what his motivations were for telling me but it was so sad I had to stop from flinging my arms around him in a gesture that would have been sympathetic but would have surely come off as patronising. Suddenly he had depth and I could feel the early stirrings of a crush begin...
Back at my flat I lit candles, poured wine and put on music. I don't know why I felt the whole seduction thing was necessary given that I was onto a sure thing but I wanted to feel sexy and dare I say it, maybe just a little romantic? He seemed to appreciate it and we had some filthy but not scary (phew) sex. He stayed and in the morning we woke up early and did it again. It was without question, the best sex I've had in a very long time. I was half expecting him to bolt according to tradition but he didn't. In fact he suggested we get ourselves together, buy the papers and go and read them in the sunshine somewhere. I'm ashamed to say my heart swelled a little at the intimacy of this suggestion. OK, so we'd already been massively intimate in a physical sense but you don't agree to spend time in such a relaxed way with someone you're not into. Do you...?

We wandered down to Parson's Green, a lovely area of grass set amongst wealthy households in West London. We lazed around on the grass talking rubbish while I intermittently read him frothy articles from Glamour. We had a long lunch outside a pub, kissing a lot and generally revelling in each other. He is wrong for me in so many ways. He's too young, he has made porn and frequently models with beautiful women (not great for someone with my track record of insecurity), he is promiscuous and despite what he says I have no idea if I can trust him when he tells me he doesn't fuck around or that he wants me to be more than a fling. The crush is in full force and I'm finding it harder to hold onto these things. He said he'd call me last night but didn't. Lately I've found that when someone says that and doesn't I haven't really cared. I assumed it was because I'd grown as a person but it would appear it's because I didn't really like any of them enough. Today he's on instant messenger and so am I but he hasn't messaged me. I'm too scared to approach him in case I don't get a reply. Apparently I'm now 14 again. On the plus side he's off on holiday in a few days and it's likely I won't see him for a couple of weeks (if I do again). It could be what I need to get him out of my system.

To take the edge of this madness, I have a date tomorrow night with S from the website. He's a lovely sounding/looking guy who I've been IMing with. I'm looking forward to the distraction. On Wednesday night there's a big industry bash which I'm going to with A and P from work. I'm really looking forward to letting my hair down for the night. Again, any distraction is more than welcome right now. Stop me before I obsess again...