At this point, I seemed to be the only one with the pressing need to either move forward with our relationship or move on. Despite my growing feelings for "Mr. Weird Science project", we were basically just "friends with benefits". Perhaps that's all he ever wanted. Ick! I certainly didn't sign up for that scenario. At least, not intentionally.
I don't know if it's age and maturity or shear fear, but I realize that I'm far more cautious in my approach to dating than I was in my twenties. That was the last time I was single. Back then I was so easily lured by looks and raw physical attraction that I was pretty reckless with my heart and my body; not thinking of the emotional consequences of giving too much or giving it up too quickly to someone not worthy of me.
