Never, ever, for as long as I live will I understand men. Went to the ball game with Sailor. Had a great time. Talked too much. He offered to pay for his ticket. I refused. Instead he bought me a beer and a hot dog. After, he invited me over to his place for a drink. As soon as we walked in he started straightening up, putting away papers and apologizing for the mess (my freshly cleaned apartment is chaos compared to his place). We had water and I told an impossibly long story about an ancient historical boyfriend. We said goodbye after an hour since we both had other obligations. He said he had a good time and we should do it again.
I'm sure it means he was raised to be polite and asking me over was reciprocation for my invitation to the game. But, dude, you need to give up that girlfriend info. You're killing me. Clearly, friendship is all that is on offer and that's swell but, oh, geez, this is not the easiest situation in the world.
He still makes me nervous. What is wrong with me?
I'm quite glad to be heading out of town tomorrow. It will be a great trip.
Grateful for: plans.