I'm turning over a new leaf.

After my breakup with M., I allowed myself very little healing time and jumped right back into dating. There was one sweet but brief relationship, followed by a string of almost-boyfriends, one or two almost-girlfriends, and, er, general funsies with multiple people.

Yes, it was hurtful and a mistake, all in all. Live and learn. Had some fun along the way, learned enough about myself to know that it's time for this phase to come to a close. It lasted for about a year, during which time I figured out first that I don't need a partner to feel complete; and secondly, that I don't need to fool around with random people to remember that I don't need a partner.

Things are going well with Coffeeboy. It's new still, so I try not to spill the beans too much. I know that, at this early stage, I would normally run for the hills should someone utter "I think this is going somewhere" to me, so I generally keep my mouth shut, even though I secretly think it is.

He's sweet, but not in a boyish way, and funny, but not in a stupid way. I'm always laughing with him and I feel comfortable with him, just as I am, even with the lights on. He never, ever plays mind games. And we're into all the same stuff, if you know what I mean.

In other words, Coffeeboy is an entirely wonderful idea.

Dishboy, however, is not.

Dishboy started at the restaurant washing dishes a few days ago. He is very, very cute. When I asked him what he'd been doing prior to washing our dishes, he vaguely mentioned travelling, and when I probed farther, I found that he had been travelling Canada, the US and Mexico for the past two years working oddjobs and surfing.

When someone mentioned marriage, Dishboy scoffed, "pfft. Patriarchy." and then went on a long-winded feminist rant.

Dishboy believes in full liberation, including sexual, and is 'quite receptive' to new ideas.

In other words, Dishboy is the absolute epitome of all that is bad for me yet utterly, utterly tempting. This situation would normally play out as follows: I would go out for drinks after work with him one night and wind up in his bed. We'd have awesome sex and then pillowtalk that would last hours and convince me that this one really IS different. Then intellectual talk over breakfast. Then I'd leave my number and waltz through the day like a blithering idiot. He wouldn't call, or maybe he'd leave a nonchalant voicemail just to fuck with me, but I'd never actually go out with him again. And I'd be heartbroken.

Old Jamie didn't realise this. She would've gone out with him.

In fact, I did have coffee with Dishboy yesterday. We ran into each other at a cute cafe that makes terrible cappucino. And we talked, and we flirted, and as I left, Dishboy tried to kiss me.

I didn't let him. I turned my head, mustered up a 'sorry', and walked home.

A few hours ago, I ran into Coffeeboy at another cafe (I promise, I do do other things than just drink coffee. Really. Sometimes.) I just feel better around him. He invited me to a show at the bar he lives overtop of tonight, and I'm going to go, and probably wind up in his bed. Again. And what I haven't learned from this yet, but plan to, is that I'm perfectly strong enough to be without him but want to be anyways.