don't fall down the rabbit hole

michaela is about to move from manhattan to milan. naturally, she's just met someone.
someone who she has a great time with, especially as a naked friend. the sex, apparently, is amazing. they are also thinking about entering into a long distance relationship.

we had a post valentine's day debrief, about her hot night of loving and my non-romantic-non-valentines-inappropriate-low-key-yet-rather-nice-night.

michaela immediately pointed out to me that i need to make sure i don't fall in love with spy guy. i'm not sure if i should be worried because she knows me better than i know myself, or it's just something that she's thinking about because of her own experiences.

and here's where i think she's wrong. i could get attached, but i am not sure about love. i've never been in love. unless that wretched feeling of rejection and loss with mr-so-wrong was indeed a fallout from being in love. but attachment to an unavailable man, with baggage, whilst you have a boyfriend, is definitely not a healthy or good thing. the only thing it is good for is a novel, or a screenplay.

i've realised something, which i voiced for the first time ever out loud to my friend cassandra on wednesday night. after a few mistakes in my youth - partially from a need to just get it over with, and partially from a momentary dip in my standards (and snobbish outlook) and probably from a pessimistic outlook that i if i was in love with the first guy i slept with, when we broke up the hurt would be unbearable - there needs to be something about a man before i will let him see me naked. usually it's a combination of intelligence, chemistry, a fantastic sense of humour, an inspiring mind or an artistic eye, the men i desire all have something which i respect and admire as a person. usually they're kinda cute too. and the problem with cute, fun (or funny), smart, artistic or eloquent men are, despite the detachment you try and maintain, they are extremely attractive and thus you do feel some sort of attachment. it's kinda sticky like gum on your shoe - temporary, bad for the sole, with a trace that lingers on afterwards.

spy guy and i met up tonight. a friend had some spare tickets to an exhibition which clashed with something that came up, so i took them off her. we went to the gallery, walked around independently but shared our thoughts about the work whenever we bumped into each other. it's a city based mating dance that can only happen in london, new york or paris.

we then took over the cafe to read and discuss more of his writing. sometimes i think he just wants my opinion because i'm an editor. which should mean he respects my professional opinion. maybe it works both ways - that some men find strong women sexy. it was eleven when we left the cafe. i led us towards the subway when he mentioned a nightcap, so i took him to a nearby bar and somehow ended up paying for our drinks. (it is my round, but i took him to the exhibition - though he's meant to return the favor in a few week's time).

by the time i got home it was 1am, and he has to be up in four hours to catch a plane.
then again, james bond would have stayed up all night and still get the job done.

i never ask spy guy about those little details. we talk about work, and the significance of what he does (or its impact on society). we've talked about guns and government, but i don't want to know too much of what he does. just in case.

it was a platonic night. he was not flirty, but friendly and definitely more controlled than me though there were a few moments - mainly looks in reference to things we were discussing. or maybe the vodka made me imagine it. i was a bit flirty, but then i was a martini down with no dinner when we met. hell i think i also flirted with a 20 year old boy who glanced my way as we walked to the bus stop.

and even though i didn't end up naked with great sex, i still had a wonderful night.