moderncutthroat

He says: I mess women up. Somehow the way that I am ends up messing them up.
I say: Give me a little credit man. Give me a chance to prove I'm a cut above the rest of them, a bit more mature and a whole lot more rational and logical.

He says: You're not looking at this objectively.
I say: I know I'm not, but when we're not in my bed tangled in my sheets, when your gone and it's the clear light of day I separate the lust, and I separate the new pre-relationship joy and I look at what we are and what you are.

He says: One day you'll stop seeing me as the perfect guy and I'll just be normal and flaky and disappear for from time to time when I pull back into my shell.
I say: I'll deal with that when it comes but I know you aren't perfect. I just think you're a step above the men I've dated in the past. It doesn't make you godly to be better, just different.

I say: I've loved and loved hard in the past. I've been hurt too. But I don't give up. I am still hopeful that one day... things will be better, and that I'll find the right fit. Maybe I'm optimistic to the point of recklessness, but It works for me.
He says: I wish I could be like that.

I say: If you're so convinced you'll ruin me like every other girl than stop this. Cut me off. Say let's just be friends and I'll comply with your wishes. I'll never touch you again or flirt or try anything frisky.
He says: I don't want to. I like you a lot. I want to see where this goes. I just needed you to be aware that I'm not perfect.
I say: Don't worry hun. I know, and I understand where my head is too.

Just snippets of the convo B and I had last night.