On not asking me enough questions.

So I have been on four dates with this pretty eccentric fellow. He is smart, interesting and likes to talk a lot. He is also kind, affectionate and a pretty good lover. I learned this after our third date, when we had a sleepover. 

Our fourth date was this past week. He came over for dinner and a movie. A couple weeks had passed since we had last seen each other and we caught up I guess. I noticed again that he talks a lot and doesn’t ask me many questions. These are some of my pet peeves in life- bad listeners and guys who don’t ask questions. He reminds me of another guy I once dated who was like this. He loved talking about myself and didn’t have much to say when you’d insert your own opinions.

I promise you I’m pretty interesting and live a pretty interesting life. You are reading my blog right? He could ask me more questions about my background, where I grew up (I’ve lived all over the word!), something about the art on my walls (I paint!), how work is going etc. So, he’s not really getting to know me per say.

And therefore, I wonder how much he actually likes me, you know? Considering he doesn’t know much about me. Maybe it’s just the physical chemistry that pulled us together. Maybe it has served its purpose and it’s not meant to be something more. 

Not sure about this one, but I’ll keep you posted. 


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