The worlds most awkward and uninformative phone call. Ever.

I am impatient. I know it like I know the color of my hair and how I feel about strawberries. I am impatient.
I am also impulsive, spontaneous and generally rash. These characteristics naturally combine to cause me to rush headlong (without caution) into every new relationship. Every. Single. One.

So I did it again. I mean, luckily, I haven't met with any disasters just yet. Just moments of oh-my-god-he-turned-out-to-be-a-little-creepy-didn't-he? But this time it isn't creepy. It just hurts.

I'm sure I'll learn as I get older. Or something. But right now I'm feeling that if it is always this hard, why do I keep trying? Why does anyone? Then I remember those moments of delight and joy, and I imagine the moments of security and contentment that come later, and I try again.

I must be old-fashioned or something. Must be. I'm still a virgin (is that something you put on the internet?) so I don't really know the rules of how long people wait to have sex with one another while dating. Is two weeks a long time? Because today I discovered that two weeks can seem like a damn-long-time to a man. Via text message. And then waited a damn-long-time for a response to my response.

Eventually the situation was discussed during the worlds most awkward and uninformative phone call. Ever. And it left me feeling, forgive the term, unsatisfied.

I am impatient. I know it. But goodness, today was a challenge.