We haven’t kissed. We’ve shared a bed twice now, but we’ve yet to kiss. He’s kissed me, my spine at least, but that was more of an early-morning, sleep-weakened, fifteen-minutes-to-kill-before-the-snooze-blows-up-again thing. And I think he wanted to remind me that, unlike my noodles, his intentions were non-platonic.

I haven’t initiated anything because I am not sure I like him. That I like like him. I realize that with all our incessant flirtation dancing, I should have made this decision, but I am not rational. I want him around to make me laugh, but I don’t know if I want to turn into one of his girls.

His girls are crazy. Take last night, for example.

While we were playing Scrabble, one of his exes (aka 22 year-old Glitter) called continuously. Literally nonstop. When he would check his phone every 20 to 30 minutes, he would have 35 missed calls. All from her. And then, his long-term-relationship ex (who, by the way, is a six-foot-tall model/dancer, thank God there’s no reason to have insecurities about that one) texted a “how r u?”, which was surprising since I guess they don’t talk?, he wrote back, “I’m good. I thought I told you to leave me alone” and ignored her follow-up calls. Then, his upstairs neighbor (Lady #3, if you’re keeping track) called to tell him that Glitter had been calling her and that maybe Glitter was waiting outside for The Realtor to get home. The Realtor apologized, saying he was sorry and couldn’t control the actions of a crazy person but hey, guess what, [the long-term-relationship ex] called and isn’t that weird since they aren’t in contact anymore? The neighbor, he later explained, is one of his buddies and knows all about the drama, but they haven’t dated since the pregnancy scare of last winter. Oh good. Heaven forbid there would be someone without a relationship history.

He’s open about all of this, showing me texts and answering my who’s-calling-now questions. And despite his frustration, he refused to let it disrupt our game, putting his phone on the floor and answering only the call of the neighbor and only when it was part of my thirty-minute deliberation period (I love Scrabble, but it takes me forever to commit to a word). And I know that if he would have wanted to be there, with one of his crazies, he would have been, but he was with me.

Well, partially with me. He didn’t stay the whole night. Which was somewhat expected since I don’t have furniture. Two weeks in my house and I am bedless. Wine glasses? Sure! Red or white? Bookcase? I have three! Pots and pans? Of course! They’re beautifully arranged in my cabinets where they will stay since I am too busy to actually cook anything. But a couch or bed or tv … those are still technically at the store. Even without furniture, he fell asleep next to me and left sometime in the night to return to his world.

His world, the one where girls stake-out his house and require a place to stay or a ride home since they don’t have their own car and the buses have stopped running … that world is not my world. For a friend, I can be amused at that world, but to become integrated into that – not sure this one would be worth it.

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