Tonight I talked to Jack on the phone for one hour and thirty-three minutes. Let me repeat: One hour and thirty-three minutes.
Who – at 27 years old – does that?!
Evidentially, our marathon make out session (also reminiscent of early years of sexual experimentation) opened the doors to other giddy infatuated childlike behavior. And I have to admit – it’s making me pretty freakin’ happy.
I’ve never been one to enjoy the games associated with dating. The whole, “wait X number of days to call/email/text” really isn’t my schtick. I’m in sales; I’m a chatty person. Long periods of arbitrary silence when I’d rather be communicating drive me nuts.
Since Saturday, I have been the one to initiate texting/email/calling only once. The rest has come from him, and this is making me downright blissful.
It’s nice to be on the same page about these things as my love interest for once. Let’s hope the trend continues.