in the company of men

That guy I grew up with—the one I went sailing with a few weeks ago—called and left me a message before I went away, asking me if I wanted to get together. I had given him a copy of a mix cd I made this summer and he said he wanted to 'meet up to go over the playlist' so he 'could add the songs into itunes'.

Initially when he invited me sailing I was worried he would think it was a date. I'm not interested in going there with him. If I was I would have no problem making that clear. Not that there's anything wrong with him. In fact, maybe if I met him now, as an adult, I would be able to see him as the successful intelligent person he's become, but I only see him as that cute chunky goofy kid.

I meant to get back to him before I went away, but I was busy and then Lauren's Dad died. So when I got home I emailed him the playlist. He emailed back right away and told me he's leaving for some work in South America in a couple of weeks and asked if I would like to get together and catch a movie or a bite to eat before he goes.

The thing is, I would like to do that. I've always loved the company of guys. I was always the girl with two or three male best friends hanging around. I guess I like the testosterone. Lately Harry is pretty much off my list and Josh lives in North Toronto [which might as well be Quebec City for the frequency of visits]. All of the other friends I have in the city are girls. So many girls. Too many girls.

I have to remind myself that it's ok to hang out with someone who might have a feeling or two for me. Sometimes you just have to trust that people can take care of themselves. Sometimes you just have to do what you do.