I had a dream about Wolfman last night.
Wolfman and I met at law school. He had a thing for small little Oriental girls (I'm half Oriental) so he was on me like white on rice from day one. He wore a Vuitton scarf and carried around a Vuitton duffle bag. He spoke in posh English, beginning sentences with "Indeed" and "Presumably". He was on a different plane altogether, compared with other law school folk, who ended their sentences with "yeah" and "init".
Wolfman and I became close. He invited me to parties he hosted at his apartment, we regularly went for dinners and drinks together, and once the two of us slept in his bed after a heavy night of drinking (we were both in a state of comatose from having drank so much). In the several months we spent close in each other's company, we never had sex. We never even kissed. Whether it was because I felt too far removed from his level of class and social standing, or whether it was because I knew I wasn't the only Oriental he had eyes for, I don't know. Whatever the reason, we never came together in sexual union, and I never thought to instigate it (as I normally would). Wolfman certainly tried to get close, but when his advances went beyond the friendly, I pulled away. When he saw me kissing another guy from university (who happened to be one of M's best friends) outside a campus pub, he was hurt. He wrote me a text message telling me so that night.
Since graduation, he's gone through a cycle of adding me and deleting me on facebook.
Just a couple of weeks ago, he added me again for the third time. Having done a little facebook stalking, it looks like Wolfman is doing well for himself - now a trainee solicitor at a prestigious firm and happy in a new relationship. He's also lost a lot of weight and all that facial hair that awarded him the name "Wolfman" has gone. In fact, he's looking pretty darn sexy (maybe I should rename him "Sexyman"?). I sent him an inbox message asking him how he's doing. Two weeks have passed and he still hasn't responded. I'm baffled as to why. I assumed he added me back as a friend because he's now at a comfortable place in life and any bad feelings he harboured toward me had finally eroded. Maybe not, and maybe he just wants to parade his current good fortunes and flaunt them my way.
That dream I had of him. My goodness. I can't get him out of my head. I wish he'd respond to my message, and maybe even suggest that we get together "for old time's sake". I don't know if I'd be able to control myself this time around though...
The other men in my life? Well...
Baklava is still creepy and I haven't been responding to his pitiful and desperate cries for attention.
I stood Thumb Ring up again on Thursday so I definitely won't be seeing him anymore (unless he's that obsessed with me). I kept my phone off the whole day so as to avoid seeing his name flash across my phone.
Smarty drove me to the airport yesterday morning (I'm currently back in Vancouver for K's wedding next week). I had a terrible hangover and was bringing back two huge suitcases with me so his help was most appreciated. I didn't tell him that I made out with some random South African the night before.
Broadback = random South African. Foxy Toxi and I went out for some drinks around Canary Wharf. After a couple of bottles of wine, and numerous sips of random drinks I found spread out on a table near the dance floor, I was considerably drunk. I met Broadback and within minutes, we were kissing (Foxy Toxi was nearby flirting with a few gentlemen herself). He called yesterday and left a message, then sent me a confirmation text a few hours later (a text asking whether I'd received his earlier voicemail). I doubt I'll be seeing this one again.
