After spending a week complaining to my friends about this guy I just met...and then another week complaining about how strangely attracted I am to him in the midst of a giant sea of unattraction...I am now completely in the throes of a biological urge that is bigger than the both of us.
And this is what I hate about sex drives. They're biologically designed to be stronger than any kind of logic humankind can devise, and right now one is kicking my ass. I just know I'm about to become the victim of another doomed romance; I could sew together a Christo/Jeanne-Claude art piece with all the red flags.
But I still can't think properly about anything else.