Oh, NO! Angst!

And it's going to be pretty vague angst, too.

Ok. Let's see how to put this.

I was enjoying a lovely email flirtation with a friend of mine. He is involved in theater, which meant that we had a lot in common. We even worked together on theater projects.

Now, we both agreed at the beginning of this that we were "only" flirting, and that we wouldn't take it any further than that for a variety of reasons. (The most glaring of which was the fact that he is married and monogamous, and his wife doesn't really like me very much.)

So the flirting was lovely and spicy, and kind of nostalgic for me, because it was a lot like my early "dating" experiences.

(I was a good Catholic Virgin, you see. Very good.)

However.

Whereas my pot was merrily bubbling on "low", his began to boil over. And since I was relying on him to determine the "boundaries" of our harmless play, it became... a problem.

No no, we didn't have any affair or anything. It's just that I became too much fun, so now I lost my playmate.

(Sigh.)
And this Goddess remembers when she had no lack of worhshipers.
Smirk.
I should have been a cheerleader. Or a stripper. I was (and apparently still am) brilliant at the "You cannot have me. Well... maybe. If you are *a very good boy* I might let you have a little."
Temptation Island, all on me onesies.

Childish, no? I mean, it really is kind of mean and manipulative, and I have really outgrown this kind of crap. Note the wonderful relationship(s) and the lack of worshipers.

And I love my SO.
He, by the way, is just fine with all of the above. He's the kind of guy that forgets how to flirt with you when he sees you every morning--and knows it--so was just fine with my flirting with someone else.

Except that when emailed him that I lost my playmate, I tried to "play" with my SO...

HE PLAYED BACK!!

So, the bottom line is...

"Strangely enough, it all turns out right in the end.
(How?)
I don't know. It's a mystery."
(Come on, guess the quote.)