Ah well - long tale - internet date - tried to cajole him into a meal "I don't eat out ..." fine - we met at the local park, I nearly ran over this bloke on a shopper bike on the way in - turns out it's him - well - fine! we play frisby - he tells me he doesn't drive cos it's not 'him' - OK - and he doesn't like cycles with gears - ok!
second date we go cycling - pitch up in a field - I ask if I can hug him he says yes, and lies there like wood, with his heart pounding, whilst I hug him. I thought he was going into fast atrial fibrillation and was seriously concerned. he tells me he still lives with his mum and sister - erm - ok!
3rd date, we go walking- we get chatting about languages - he's never been abroad, and doesn't like staying away from home, or strange food. we go walking a a couple of times. I quite like him, and then he sends me a six page treaty on comics - I largely ignore it, cos I can no longer see straight.
I have a shit day at work, cos two people died - he tells me he has had a shit day cos the photocopier broke. His mum cooks for him. but I still quite like him.
I invite him round to mine for tea (I cooked a special bland shepherds pie) - he bolts like a rabbit caught in headlights. I think 'awww' then he tells me he hasn't had sex before - I think 'aaww' he's just not had the opportunity. he is scared. much of the relationship is based around his fears, anxieties, and needing a rescuer. he finally agrees to go out for a meal (am desperate to not have to cook, and get out of the muddy fields we walk through) we go to pizza hut - he orders a marguerita pizza, and declares it too spicy.
3 months on, I invite him for a sleepover. bless him, he pitches up, but his mum and sister are worried about him being out overnight. we go to bed - I go into the bathroom to clean my teeth. In bed, he is wearing pj's with a vest. I hug him - he is shaking - we take our time - I stroke him - he strokes me - I direct his hand - he pulls it back etc - by the end of the night, he is still a virgin - thats OK - but he doesn't 'help me out'. he sleeps badly, perched on the very end of the bed, because he never sleeps out. wakes with a headache, IBS and waterwork problems cos he's so anxious. It was a bit of a watershed moment really...
he sent me a couple of emails since saying how sensitive he is, and how understanding I am and how he is skipping on air cos he is so happy. TBH, I think he knows the writing is on the wall, cos I was a bit narked the morning after - so have just sent an email that says I really like you, but...
I feel like I am kicking a puppy - why on earth did I think this would work?
Oh - given his frailties, it didn't stop him commenting on how I mustn't cut my hair, cos he likes long hair (I told him to grow his own) and he likes short skirts, tight clothes, and commented on my pubic hair - fucking cheek!