So last night The Dutchman and This Man got together at his place to hang out. His friends from out of town had finally left and he was free and so was I. I drove over to his place and spent the evening, eating leftovers from Hash House (one of This Man's favorite eateries), drinking wine, watching Oprah and finally a DVD that a friend had sent to him.

Everything was perfect and This Man was happy. The food was good and cuddling on the couch with The Dutchman was great. So one would think that there couldn't possibly be anything for This Man to complain about, right?
Wrong!
Once the movie finished and it was getting late, This Man found myself dreading the possibility of The Dutchman asking me to sleep over. Don't get me wrong, we've slept together and for what it's worth, it was nice. And, not to mention, I actually like this man. I can't figure it out, but I enjoy being with him. But I didn't like sleeping with him--more like, I like him up until bedtime.
Here's why.
The first time The Dutchman and I slept together, it was great. We fooled around and cuddled until eventually we fell asleep with This Man's arms wrapped around him. It was nice and I was happy. This issue reared it's head the next morning when we were having breakfast at this awesome Mexican restaurant in North Park and The Dutchman remarked about my snoring.
Naturally, I denied it but he was insistent. I mean, as far as This Man knew, I didn't snore but then again, I am asleep so what do I know, right?
So there we were in this restaurant with him telling me about my snoring and me denying it. He was persistent and so was I until finally This Man said, "Whatever...you say what you want, but I know I don't snore." Eventually we brushed it off and ate our breakfast. But of course, the issue didn't rest there. Now I would be conscious of whether I snored or not. And trust me when This Man says it, once I become conscious of something, I'll never let it go!
A week or so after that incident, I slept over at his place only This Man didn't sleep. I sat up most of the night watching him sleep and on occasion I would drift in and out consciousness, but I definitely didn't get any rest that night. So it should come as no surprise when I got up and left his place, the first thing that This Man did once I was at my own house was collapse and fall asleep. Last weekend, when The Dutchman had his birthday party (that was an event in itself--it was Mantastic) and This Man was too drunk to even think about going home and therefore slept at his place, you guessed it--I lay awake the whole time (and I was drunk).
I was not going to allow myself to get too comfortable around him. It was impossible now. So up to this point, This Man isn't going to spend the night with him. I don't mind cuddling for hours and I don't mind just laying in bed, but up until that last precise second when it's time for This Man to fall asleep, I just get up, put my clothes back on and head for my car.
Back to last night, I could kind of hear the disappointment in his voice as I told him that I wasn't sleeping at his place and it bothered me for a minute. But I think once I got on my phone with my friend, L and she pointed out that, "... he shouldn't have said anything about it in the first place so of course you're going to be aware of it." I felt a bit better because someone understood what I was going through. As of now, I'm not going to say anything to The Dutchman about how it bothered me. For those reading this, I'll just keep you posted.
Now if you don't mind, This Man is off to take a much needed nap.

Mahalo