In the past few days I’ve gone on the second and third date with the new guy. And I’ve had a great time with him- it’s strange that he’s actually a really sweet guy. I don’t think I’m used to that at all. Last night we went and hung out with a couple of my other friends over at Becky’s house, and in all honesty I was nervous. I was split between wanting them to like him and hate him. I put a lot of stock in how my friends view my guys, mostly because they seem more capable of determining the assholes. If they liked him, it would compound the fact that I thought he was a sweet guy. If they hated him, well, then I’d have a reason for feeling the way I do.
PK and I made a bet last week before I even made my initial plans with the new guy. Half way through the four-game series between the Mets and Phils, we bet that if the Phils lost I’d have to go up there. And obviously, if the Phils won, he’d have to come down here. The Phils won all four games.
I don’t hear much from PK aside from him asking what my work schedule is and telling me that he was “keeping his promise”. Friday night I worked at the cafe with my favorite coworker and was absolutely ecstatic. He knew I was working, and I couldn’t wait for him to come in. I eventually called and he (I think drunkenly) announced that he was in Philly but told me that he wasn’t going to see me that night. “Tomorrow,” he said, “when do you work tomorrow?” I told him and was a little down, but got excited for Saturday.
On Saturday I had another early shift after closing the night before, but I managed to wake up early to pack extra clothes. I was mixed because I’d originally made plans with the new guy not thinking that PK would actually come through, but canceled because it’s a rare event that PK would actually visit. I got out of work at five and was expecting him to come. I waited for a few minutes, went and got changed and did my makeup in the bathroom. He didn’t show, didn’t answer his phone, didn’t answer texts. I got back on my train and went home. When I reached home I get a text saying “sorry” and that he’d “gone home” and something about my hopes.
I called up the new guy and said I was free for the night again, so we ended up going out. But the entire time I was still upset about the PK thing. I kept going back and forth every few minutes, telling myself that I need to just forget him and move on, and then backtracking and reminding myself of how I feel about PK.
My expectations on Sunday were sort of half-hearted. I had figured out that when PK said he was “going home” he meant that he was going to his parents home, not back to NY. My coworker pointed out that my neck jerked up every time the door opened in the cafe. I kept hoping to see PK, hoping that he’d pick me up and we’d spend the day in the city. The night manager came in early, so I ended up leaving five minutes early. No point in waiting, I went down and waited for my train. As soon as I got home, I had a text from PK saying that it was our last chance to see each other, that he’d drop by the cafe at three on the way to his train back home. It was the first time I’d ever left early from work.
So, as I said, I took the new guy to meet my friends last night. And I think they liked him. We sat around the fire pit drinking and talking, and then headed back to my place to walk the dogs that night. It was in the dog park with Willa running around that we had our first kiss, and it was great. And confusing. I had been wanting PK to do everything this new guy was doing- going on dates, meeting my friends, spending time with just me. But I don’t think he and I will ever get to that point.