Tricking yourself.

I saw Hennessy at Burkhart's Pub, post-drag attack.

A few minutes after saying hello and hugging him, asking him if he'd gotten an e-mail I sent him, he sat me down on the bricks where we met, touched me on the leg and gave me a "We Need to Talk" speech.

Apparently, I'm a really great guy, and he had a lot of fun with me last Sunday. But Hennessy went on a date on Thursday with someone he really clicked with. And he didn't know what I was looking for but he wanted me to not get hurt or too emotionallly involved.

I told him I wasn't too hurt or emotionally involved. I mean, I know how I fretted this week with the "Will He Call?" bullshit, but I honestly didn't know how I felt about him and was looking forward to finding out about something that seemed promising.

So I said, "I want to have sex with you again."

I had fun having sex with him last week. And, I figured, if he was going to give me the "I Don't Want You to Get Hurt" schpiel anyway, why not try to have sex again?

Hennessy asked me what I wanted, how I felt.

In my head, I'm thinking, "Well, I know what I want in terms of long-term. And I know, in terms of my dick, what I want right now. And, uhh, am I supposed to want anything yet? I've known this dude a week. A damn week. Why the fuck is this all getting so complicated so damn quickly? And how weird is it that I'm not the one currently complicating it? Can't I just decide whether I like someone before I'm TOLD not to like them, even though they liked me last week and still have their hand on my knee this week?"

He went out on a date on Thursday and fell in love. Yeah, that's great. But, by that timing, the entire situation could be different by next week.

"How's he in bed?" I asked Hennessy of the new boyfriend.

"I don't know," Hennessy said. "We've not done that yet."

"WHAT?" I asked, incredulously.

I know melodrama, after all. And I know the "I Don't Want to Hurt You" Speech.

It isn't fair. So I decided not to play fair.

I kissed him. Then I kissed him again. Then, we went to another bar, and he sat in a stool, and I kissed him until his friends came up and introduced themselves. I kissed him, and his roommate bought me a drink. And I thrust Hennessy against a mirror on the wall and kissed him until both the mirror and our glasses had steamed over. And I kissed Hennessy while he pulled me by my shirt on top of him onto the jukebox during a Britney Spears song.

He wanted to take me home with him but said that he couldn't. Then he told me I was terrific. Then he started to cry. Then I hugged him and kissed him because he was crying.

Then I took him outside, told him that the situation he was in was stupid and that my timing always sucked. And I told him that, last week, I thought I liked him. Then he started to cry. Then I hugged him and kissed him because he was crying.

So I went with him to his apartment, telling him that I wanted to talk even though I think we both knew how that actually translated.

We were both in our underwear, and I'd pinned him down on the bed when he started to cry again, feeling "guilty" because I was so "terrific" and "deserved better."

Uh huh. I've heard that before.

In the morning, we talked about all the stuff we had in common. We quoted a Willow-Tara dialogue from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" verbatim to one another.

Fueled by that, I asked him to "a movie," even though I only had a vague idea of what movie I would see with him.

"It depends," he said to me, trying to out-drama me. "Are we going just to hang out ... or is this a date?"

"Which one would you say 'yes' to," I said. "I'm asking that one."

But I can't see him again because, even though he does return phone calls, I shouldn't like him. But I might see him again, for I don't often do what's best for me - even when I know what that is.

If he wants casual sex, I don't want to hear about his boyfriend. If I date a dozen guys, you know, and none of them are serious, committed relationships, they don't have to hear about one another.

Hennessy likes kissing me. Hennessy cries and means it. Hennessy admits he's melodramatic. Hennessy's jerking me around, manipulating me.

But, gosh, having sex sure is fun.

Dammit.

There are other guys.

He was a good guy last week, and this week he's a bad guy. So what does that say for next week?

I can't help thinking, though, that sex and potential romance doesn't have to be this way.