I like him, I really like him.

I've decided that my "Plans" have now become "Hopeful Candidates." So Plan D. is now HCD. He is my next hopeful candidate for the "boyfriend" position, which has gone unfilled for a considerable amount of time.

The date was a success. He was sweet and polite - a sight for sore eyes for a girl who has been trapped in a blazing hell full of Scottsdale-frat boy-cocky-just-want-to-bend-you-over-a-chair-and-lose-your-number devils, with no sight of a tall, handsome cool drink of water to ease the pain. We talked a little, drank a little, listened to the band a little, and he got to show me off to a few of his friends - whom I'm hoping gave me two thumbs up when he asked them for a review. I was dropped off in front of my house, given a gentle and affectionate hug, and wished sweet dreams. The next morning I was giddy. The kool-aid smile painted on my face grew even bigger when he texted me "Hey Doll :)."

We made plans to watch a movie that night. I went over to his house and managed to feel guilty and extremely pleased at the same time when we went a bit further then necessary on a second date. Sweet and perfect.

Now the panic sets in. What if he's like all the rest? He got what he wants and now he's done. It never truly bothered me in the past because I never truly cared for the guy. But now it's different. I like him. I want to be his girlfriend. My stomach is eternally spinning with a million butterflies spiraling out of control.

Now I just have to sit back, relax, and let nature take its course. Right.