There was stubble

on his cheek. I only noticed upon saying goodbye, and not hello. That is when we hug. Hello - goodbye.

We've met four times. He is exactly like his written persona, only better.

And I don't know if we are - dating?
or just, hanging out. Or
buddy-dating - whatever that is. It just feels descriptive of the situation.

I had only walked some
fifty meters when I turned around (and couldn't see him).
We meet too seldom, I thought,
understandably because of the distance. But all too seldom. I haven't told him that.

We talk about
politics
and work and friendship relations
cynicism and
tactics.
And weddings. And what we like. Who started that? I like a crinkling smile.
Something he has, and I forgot to say.
And that his eyes are brown.
No, that was not even on the agenda.

We talked about
being picked up. and compliments.
He thinks he gets less than he gives. And that drunker girls are not attractive. I concur.
He hasn't complimented me. Apart from the assessment from the first encounter.

And I don't know if
we are flirting.
Or if he
likes
me.
He likes me well enough to squeeze me in between a company dinner Thursday and a drive to Oslo Saturday. How much is that.

But come to think of it, he said "I'll play it for you sometime", when we talked about a piece of music
that they all played, his student orchestra, while lying down
(in a fountain).
So I should think he sees some future there, for us and not a
closing down
(and thanks for all the fish).
And I have never scorned as friend someone I truly liked.




- I am in like (- and you?)
Good night!