Monday, November 14, 2011
Chapter 52: Not-So-Happy-Halloween
The next day, Sunday, I wanted to see "Thumper" again, and I called him to tell him so. He apologized and said that he had other plans, but would call me when he got home. I assumed he had plans with the other girl, and now it was starting to bother me. I began to think about the fact that I wanted more attention from him than he could probably give, if he was dividing his time up between two women.
For the last three months, I had been completely focused on "Tarzan", and "Thumper" was certainly a welcome distraction. But I couldn't just immediately go back to playing the field after having gotten used to focusing on one person. And I'm not so sure I wanted to. "Thumper's" constant attention, yet lack of commitment was confusing to me. I didn't need heart/head-confusion just then.
So when he called that night, I told him that I wasn't so sure he could give me the attention I needed. I realized that this was a subtle and indirect ultimatum, but he had so often shown me that he was an all or nothing person, and I had to know if it was going towards "all" or "nothing".
Never in a million years would I have suspected that he would have chosen this other girl over me. After all his talk about how I had captured his heart, he proceeded to tell me that he wanted to explore his relationship with this other woman. He said that they were so comfortable with each other, like they had been old friends for years. He feared the intensity of the connection between us. He suspected that we started out with so many fireworks that we would just crash and burn, and his heart would be broken.
So you're choosing her because she's SAFE? You're kidding? I would never give up the hot intensity of the beginning of a relationship! It's the best part! How could he so willingly just walk away from that? But walk away from it, he did.
Who does this? Who goes that far out of their way to convince someone of a lie? Thankfully, I got out early....
For the last three months, I had been completely focused on "Tarzan", and "Thumper" was certainly a welcome distraction. But I couldn't just immediately go back to playing the field after having gotten used to focusing on one person. And I'm not so sure I wanted to. "Thumper's" constant attention, yet lack of commitment was confusing to me. I didn't need heart/head-confusion just then.
So when he called that night, I told him that I wasn't so sure he could give me the attention I needed. I realized that this was a subtle and indirect ultimatum, but he had so often shown me that he was an all or nothing person, and I had to know if it was going towards "all" or "nothing".
Never in a million years would I have suspected that he would have chosen this other girl over me. After all his talk about how I had captured his heart, he proceeded to tell me that he wanted to explore his relationship with this other woman. He said that they were so comfortable with each other, like they had been old friends for years. He feared the intensity of the connection between us. He suspected that we started out with so many fireworks that we would just crash and burn, and his heart would be broken.
So you're choosing her because she's SAFE? You're kidding? I would never give up the hot intensity of the beginning of a relationship! It's the best part! How could he so willingly just walk away from that? But walk away from it, he did.
Who does this? Who goes that far out of their way to convince someone of a lie? Thankfully, I got out early....
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Chapter 51: Happy Halloween
Over the next two days, my email and cell phone were drenched with messages from "Thumper". If I hadn't been enjoying it so much, I might have been annoyed at his persistence. Therefore, I was surprised to learn that he was still seeing the girl he met for dinner the night he met me. After all his declarations and overtures, I couldn't imagine that he was able to spread that much of himself around.
He attempted to explain to me, over and over, that he was in a very strange place. Never before had he had two wonderful women interested in him at the same time. And, while I absolutely had captured his heart, his brain was screaming at him not to let this other girl go yet... That she deserved a chance to see what might develop, too. However, at the end of the day, he was still completely smitten with me, and he had no idea how to end the war between his heart and his brain. Maybe it was a false sense of security, but considering how much of an emotional person he was, I didn't think it would take long for him to realize where his heart wanted to be, so I didn't mind. I kept it casual, and kept him at arm's length. At least emotionally. Physically, there were pretty much no boundaries...
We went to my brother's Halloween party and had a blast. He was comfortable with everyone, even though he knew no one but me. This was a refreshing social relief from "Tarzan", no doubt. He was affectionate, but not clingy, and I had a wonderful time.
We went back to my house after and made love again. It was even more intense than the first time. Fortunately, there was no more intense talk that made me suspect he was going to tell me he loved me again. But it was still incredible and amazing. I could get used to this. :)
He attempted to explain to me, over and over, that he was in a very strange place. Never before had he had two wonderful women interested in him at the same time. And, while I absolutely had captured his heart, his brain was screaming at him not to let this other girl go yet... That she deserved a chance to see what might develop, too. However, at the end of the day, he was still completely smitten with me, and he had no idea how to end the war between his heart and his brain. Maybe it was a false sense of security, but considering how much of an emotional person he was, I didn't think it would take long for him to realize where his heart wanted to be, so I didn't mind. I kept it casual, and kept him at arm's length. At least emotionally. Physically, there were pretty much no boundaries...
We went to my brother's Halloween party and had a blast. He was comfortable with everyone, even though he knew no one but me. This was a refreshing social relief from "Tarzan", no doubt. He was affectionate, but not clingy, and I had a wonderful time.
We went back to my house after and made love again. It was even more intense than the first time. Fortunately, there was no more intense talk that made me suspect he was going to tell me he loved me again. But it was still incredible and amazing. I could get used to this. :)
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Chapter 50: Perfect Evening
"Thumper" was on my email before I even got to work in the morning, asking me over for the following evening, a Wednesday, for dinner. He wanted to cook for me. How could I say "no?"
After work, I eagerly drove to his place, and was not only surprised, I was highly impressed. His house was impeccable, and his creativity for a meal surpassed anything I could have dreamed up. We had Yellowtail Merlot, and a spinach salad, garnished with walnuts, strawberries and feta cheese, topped with a homemade balsamic vinegarette dressing, and for the main course? Cedar-plank grilled salmon fillets glazed with a garlic-maple-soy sauce, and a side of honey-dijon mashed potatoes and sauteed asparagus. (Yes, we are talking about a straight man here!) He had bought some Key Lime Pie for dessert, but we never made it that far.
All the romantic gestures, the longing gazes across the table... I allowed myself to be swept up into the faery tale evening. I could just say that we had sex, but it wasn't like that. We made love. It was sensual, and sweet... we were exploring each other, getting to know each other on a deeper level. I couldn't remember the last time sex had been so intense. Or rather, I couldn't remember the last time a man had been this intense.
We lay there afterwards, and here came the tears again. (Wait, this IS a straight man, right?) Okay, yes, we definitely were connecting on an intangible and indescribable level, but I just didn't know if I could handle the tears at every turn. He talked to me with desperation in his voice, to accurately convey what he was feeling. He told me that I had touched him in a way he never imagined. I had his heart, 100% complete and pure. For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me he loved me. How would I handle that? I would not, could not say it back. This was ridiculous. I turned the conversation around to a lighter, more joking arena, to avoid the possibility that he might let the "L" word slip out. And it worked. Whew!
I asked him if he was free Saturday night if he would accompany me to my brother's Halloween party. It was a date, and he was already professing how much he couldn't wait.
Yes, it was moving quick, but I wanted to enjoy it and not analyze it.
After work, I eagerly drove to his place, and was not only surprised, I was highly impressed. His house was impeccable, and his creativity for a meal surpassed anything I could have dreamed up. We had Yellowtail Merlot, and a spinach salad, garnished with walnuts, strawberries and feta cheese, topped with a homemade balsamic vinegarette dressing, and for the main course? Cedar-plank grilled salmon fillets glazed with a garlic-maple-soy sauce, and a side of honey-dijon mashed potatoes and sauteed asparagus. (Yes, we are talking about a straight man here!) He had bought some Key Lime Pie for dessert, but we never made it that far.
All the romantic gestures, the longing gazes across the table... I allowed myself to be swept up into the faery tale evening. I could just say that we had sex, but it wasn't like that. We made love. It was sensual, and sweet... we were exploring each other, getting to know each other on a deeper level. I couldn't remember the last time sex had been so intense. Or rather, I couldn't remember the last time a man had been this intense.
We lay there afterwards, and here came the tears again. (Wait, this IS a straight man, right?) Okay, yes, we definitely were connecting on an intangible and indescribable level, but I just didn't know if I could handle the tears at every turn. He talked to me with desperation in his voice, to accurately convey what he was feeling. He told me that I had touched him in a way he never imagined. I had his heart, 100% complete and pure. For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me he loved me. How would I handle that? I would not, could not say it back. This was ridiculous. I turned the conversation around to a lighter, more joking arena, to avoid the possibility that he might let the "L" word slip out. And it worked. Whew!
I asked him if he was free Saturday night if he would accompany me to my brother's Halloween party. It was a date, and he was already professing how much he couldn't wait.
Yes, it was moving quick, but I wanted to enjoy it and not analyze it.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Chapter 49: Too Soon To Jump Back In The Saddle?
The day after "Tarzan" and I broke up, I reactivated my profile on Match. I also signed on to eHarmony. A few weeks back, eHarmony had sent me a match that had sounded quite intriguing, but since I was unavailable I had put "Thumper" on hold. I knew I was probably acting out of rebound-anger, but I reactivated the connection with "Thumper". To my surprise, he responded immediately. By the end of the day we had already gone through the five-step guided communication process, and by Monday morning, we were already talking via email and Yahoo Messenger.
"Thumper" was completely taken with me, and he let me know this in no uncertain terms in every communication. I don't really know exactly what it was that I said that made him so smitten, but I was willing to go with it. I needed a little "awe" in my life.
He wanted to meet me immediately, but he had, unfortunately, made a date that night with another girl he'd met on eHarmony at the same time he met me. He made it obvious that he really didn't want to go on this date anymore, and wanted to meet me instead. While this was very flattering, it wasn't exactly a great character-trait to me, to cancel on a date on such short notice and for such a manipulative reason. I encouraged him to go on the date. But he was meeting her early for dinner. So I suggested a compromise: IF and only IF the dinner date ended early, like 10-ish, maybe he could call me and we could meet for late night drinks?
He loved the idea. I didn't really expect to hear from him that night, but he called at 9:30, claiming that she had needed to leave early anyway, and very much wanted to see me. We met at Applebee's for drinks, and the first words out of his mouth were, "You are BEAUTIFUL!" We talked and had a lot of things in common. I asked him how his dinner date was, and he said that it was better than he had expected it to be, and he would probably see her again, but admitted that, all evening, he couldn't wait to see me. He held my hand across the table the whole time and gazed at me with an amazing look on his face. I really couldn't believe that he could possibly be THIS taken with me so quickly!
We eventually had to agree that it was getting late and walked out to my car. Not wanting to say good night just yet, we sat in my car to have a cigarette, and kept talking. He leaned over and kissed me, and it was a passionate, longing, very sensual kiss. When he pulled away, he sighed and said, "I just knew that you would be a good kisser." When I looked into his face, there were tears on his cheeks.
Tears??? Are you serious? He didn't try to hide them. He said he felt this amazing connection to me, that I had touched his emotions and his heart so fervently that this one kiss just allowed it all to bubble up. This was all very sweet, but just a tad over the top. Or was I so jaded at this point that I didn't believe you could connect to someone so deeply that quick? Maybe he believed in love at first sight, and I was too cynical to allow the possibility? It was a pleasant distraction from "Tarzan", though, I had to admit.
"Thumper" was completely taken with me, and he let me know this in no uncertain terms in every communication. I don't really know exactly what it was that I said that made him so smitten, but I was willing to go with it. I needed a little "awe" in my life.
He wanted to meet me immediately, but he had, unfortunately, made a date that night with another girl he'd met on eHarmony at the same time he met me. He made it obvious that he really didn't want to go on this date anymore, and wanted to meet me instead. While this was very flattering, it wasn't exactly a great character-trait to me, to cancel on a date on such short notice and for such a manipulative reason. I encouraged him to go on the date. But he was meeting her early for dinner. So I suggested a compromise: IF and only IF the dinner date ended early, like 10-ish, maybe he could call me and we could meet for late night drinks?
He loved the idea. I didn't really expect to hear from him that night, but he called at 9:30, claiming that she had needed to leave early anyway, and very much wanted to see me. We met at Applebee's for drinks, and the first words out of his mouth were, "You are BEAUTIFUL!" We talked and had a lot of things in common. I asked him how his dinner date was, and he said that it was better than he had expected it to be, and he would probably see her again, but admitted that, all evening, he couldn't wait to see me. He held my hand across the table the whole time and gazed at me with an amazing look on his face. I really couldn't believe that he could possibly be THIS taken with me so quickly!
We eventually had to agree that it was getting late and walked out to my car. Not wanting to say good night just yet, we sat in my car to have a cigarette, and kept talking. He leaned over and kissed me, and it was a passionate, longing, very sensual kiss. When he pulled away, he sighed and said, "I just knew that you would be a good kisser." When I looked into his face, there were tears on his cheeks.
Tears??? Are you serious? He didn't try to hide them. He said he felt this amazing connection to me, that I had touched his emotions and his heart so fervently that this one kiss just allowed it all to bubble up. This was all very sweet, but just a tad over the top. Or was I so jaded at this point that I didn't believe you could connect to someone so deeply that quick? Maybe he believed in love at first sight, and I was too cynical to allow the possibility? It was a pleasant distraction from "Tarzan", though, I had to admit.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Chapter 48: Can't Say I Was Surprised
Over the next few weeks, I felt this distancing from "Tarzan". It wasn't completely tangible, just a feeling. We still talked on the phone, saw each other several times a week, and spent the weekends with the girls.
We had a WONDERFUL day with the girls that month. We took them to the Conyers Fall Festival, then went roller skating, and finally, took them to Piccadilly for dinner before getting them home to their mom on time. It was easy to ignore the distance growing between "Tarzan" and I when we were with the girls. For the first time that day, they told me they loved me, and I was elated. I loved them, too, more than I ever thought I could love a child. "Tarzan" expressed his approval, too. He would constantly remind me how wonderful he thought it was that I accepted his girls as much as I did. This surprised me. Why wouldn't I? They were a package deal. However, he explained, there are a lot of women out there that refuse to compete with children in a relationship. Whatever! They don't know what they are missing!
The following week we all planned to go to the zoo. "Tarzan" called Friday night with the girls there, and let me talk to them so we could squeal and giggle together about how much we were looking forward to going to the zoo the next day.
Later that night, I signed onto Match. I have no idea why. My profile had been hidden for two months when "Tarzan" and I agreed to take both of them down. My mailbox was empty, and my "Who's viewed me counter" was not moving. I guess there was a part of me that wanted to see how active some of the people I'd met in the past had been, like "Tramp", "Goofy", "Mickey", "Shrek", or "Aladdin". Were their profiles still active? Had they logged on recently? Yes, Match makes it pretty easy to do a bit of online stalking if you are so inclined. :-P
I logged on and felt like someone had just thrust a knife in my stomach. There was "Tarzan's" profile, upfront, active, and very visible. Are you serious? He just decided to start dating again without even talking to me? I knew that we were having a little stormy weather lately, but how could he do this? My stomach felt like it had cinched up into a double-knot. I wanted to call him that instant and ask him what the f--k he thought he was doing. But I restrained. I decided the best course of action was to call in the morning, before I went over, and clarify our relationship before I spent all day long at the zoo with him and the girls, pretending like I didn't know he'd done this.
Well, he claimed that he had signed on to cancel his membership altogether, and must have hit the wrong thing. This wasn't altogether implausible, as Match had recently reconfigured the site and the activating buttons were all different, but it was still a lame excuse. Regardless, though, I needed clarification from him, and I wanted it before I committed my entire day. As you can imagine, the conversation was not a pleasant one. One of the girls was not feeling well, and the zoo trip was off, so I was advised not to come over at all. I hung up knowing that our relationship was hanging in the balance, but not completely sure if we had broken up or not.
He called later that night after the girls went home. This conversation was much more calm and rational, but the result was still the same. He was no longer comfortable in this relationship and feared we wanted different things. After being upset, worried, and crying all day long, I was rather numb. He wanted to stay in touch, he still wanted me to be a part of his life. I didn't know how I wanted to handle it, but I just agreed to let things settle as they may and I said good-bye to "Tarzan".
We had a WONDERFUL day with the girls that month. We took them to the Conyers Fall Festival, then went roller skating, and finally, took them to Piccadilly for dinner before getting them home to their mom on time. It was easy to ignore the distance growing between "Tarzan" and I when we were with the girls. For the first time that day, they told me they loved me, and I was elated. I loved them, too, more than I ever thought I could love a child. "Tarzan" expressed his approval, too. He would constantly remind me how wonderful he thought it was that I accepted his girls as much as I did. This surprised me. Why wouldn't I? They were a package deal. However, he explained, there are a lot of women out there that refuse to compete with children in a relationship. Whatever! They don't know what they are missing!
The following week we all planned to go to the zoo. "Tarzan" called Friday night with the girls there, and let me talk to them so we could squeal and giggle together about how much we were looking forward to going to the zoo the next day.
Later that night, I signed onto Match. I have no idea why. My profile had been hidden for two months when "Tarzan" and I agreed to take both of them down. My mailbox was empty, and my "Who's viewed me counter" was not moving. I guess there was a part of me that wanted to see how active some of the people I'd met in the past had been, like "Tramp", "Goofy", "Mickey", "Shrek", or "Aladdin". Were their profiles still active? Had they logged on recently? Yes, Match makes it pretty easy to do a bit of online stalking if you are so inclined. :-P
I logged on and felt like someone had just thrust a knife in my stomach. There was "Tarzan's" profile, upfront, active, and very visible. Are you serious? He just decided to start dating again without even talking to me? I knew that we were having a little stormy weather lately, but how could he do this? My stomach felt like it had cinched up into a double-knot. I wanted to call him that instant and ask him what the f--k he thought he was doing. But I restrained. I decided the best course of action was to call in the morning, before I went over, and clarify our relationship before I spent all day long at the zoo with him and the girls, pretending like I didn't know he'd done this.
Well, he claimed that he had signed on to cancel his membership altogether, and must have hit the wrong thing. This wasn't altogether implausible, as Match had recently reconfigured the site and the activating buttons were all different, but it was still a lame excuse. Regardless, though, I needed clarification from him, and I wanted it before I committed my entire day. As you can imagine, the conversation was not a pleasant one. One of the girls was not feeling well, and the zoo trip was off, so I was advised not to come over at all. I hung up knowing that our relationship was hanging in the balance, but not completely sure if we had broken up or not.
He called later that night after the girls went home. This conversation was much more calm and rational, but the result was still the same. He was no longer comfortable in this relationship and feared we wanted different things. After being upset, worried, and crying all day long, I was rather numb. He wanted to stay in touch, he still wanted me to be a part of his life. I didn't know how I wanted to handle it, but I just agreed to let things settle as they may and I said good-bye to "Tarzan".
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Chapter 47: Speed Bump
Every year in October, my next door neighbor and I would have a joint party to celebrate our birthdays, which are relatively close together. Both of us, and all of our friends, eagerly anticipate this party, as it has become a bit of a tradition. We routinely would have between 30-40 people who attend, and it was always a success. After "Tarzan" and I celebrated the twins' birthday, it was time to start putting together *my* party, and I couldn't wait.
For the first time, since my ex-husband left, I was in a committed relationship, and here was the perfect opportunity to show off my new boyfriend to all my friends at one time. It was perfect. I was happy, I was in love, and I wanted to show it off to everyone!
Over the previous two months that "Tarzan" and I had been together, we had done very little socially. We went out to dinner a lot, spent time with his girls, and maybe, on occasion, with a friend or two of mine. "Tarzan" had no close friends. He never really had. I won't pretend that this didn't concern me. Who could possibly live for 36 years and not accumulate a friend or two? I was only 32, and I had DOZENS! Maybe even hundreds!
So I was concerned about "Tarzan" and how he would conduct himself at my valued social event of the year. I knew that he was uncomfortable around crowds, but I convinced myself that he would understand how important this was to me. I felt that he might understand that everyone in attendance was someone that was important to me, or to my neighbor, or to both of us, and he would put aside his own instincts and stand by my side, like any man would do for his woman when she really needed him.
Needless to say, I was wrong. There was no question about it: I was a social butterfly, ping-ponging around to every person who was there, and "Tarzan" was a hermit, standing in the corner, silently sipping on a beer. He only spoke when spoken to, and refused to mingle. I tried to include him and pull him around with me, but his feet were rooted exactly where he stood. Occasionally people would approach him and start idle chit-chat. He was always polite and courteous, but by no means was he interested in sustaining a lengthy conversation with anyone, and his body language just radiated outwards, "Leave me alone!"
By 11:00, he was ready to go home. I was wired, I was a little drunk, and I didn't want him to. We hadn't even brought out the cake yet! I begged and pleaded with him to stay. He was having none of it. I was highly disappointed, and felt highly abandoned, but I let him go. I wasn't exactly gracious about it, though. I let him know with extremely disapproving looks how disappointed I was that he was leaving so early. I didn't want to fight, I didn't want anything to turn into a yelling match, but I wanted to make sure he knew how I was feeling. Being a "little" drunk after he left just wasn't going to cut it... I went back in and got VERY drunk.
For the first time, since my ex-husband left, I was in a committed relationship, and here was the perfect opportunity to show off my new boyfriend to all my friends at one time. It was perfect. I was happy, I was in love, and I wanted to show it off to everyone!
Over the previous two months that "Tarzan" and I had been together, we had done very little socially. We went out to dinner a lot, spent time with his girls, and maybe, on occasion, with a friend or two of mine. "Tarzan" had no close friends. He never really had. I won't pretend that this didn't concern me. Who could possibly live for 36 years and not accumulate a friend or two? I was only 32, and I had DOZENS! Maybe even hundreds!
So I was concerned about "Tarzan" and how he would conduct himself at my valued social event of the year. I knew that he was uncomfortable around crowds, but I convinced myself that he would understand how important this was to me. I felt that he might understand that everyone in attendance was someone that was important to me, or to my neighbor, or to both of us, and he would put aside his own instincts and stand by my side, like any man would do for his woman when she really needed him.
Needless to say, I was wrong. There was no question about it: I was a social butterfly, ping-ponging around to every person who was there, and "Tarzan" was a hermit, standing in the corner, silently sipping on a beer. He only spoke when spoken to, and refused to mingle. I tried to include him and pull him around with me, but his feet were rooted exactly where he stood. Occasionally people would approach him and start idle chit-chat. He was always polite and courteous, but by no means was he interested in sustaining a lengthy conversation with anyone, and his body language just radiated outwards, "Leave me alone!"
By 11:00, he was ready to go home. I was wired, I was a little drunk, and I didn't want him to. We hadn't even brought out the cake yet! I begged and pleaded with him to stay. He was having none of it. I was highly disappointed, and felt highly abandoned, but I let him go. I wasn't exactly gracious about it, though. I let him know with extremely disapproving looks how disappointed I was that he was leaving so early. I didn't want to fight, I didn't want anything to turn into a yelling match, but I wanted to make sure he knew how I was feeling. Being a "little" drunk after he left just wasn't going to cut it... I went back in and got VERY drunk.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Chapter 46: Comfortable, Easy... Perfect!
Throughout the month of September, "Tarzan" and I had a blast. I met the twin girls and fell in love with them immediately. We spent our weeknights together, and our weekends with them. We went shopping together for their birthday party that was at the end of the month. We hopped around Toys R Us like two kids, buying two of everything that they had so meticulously listed out for us. We wrapped their presents together. We played soccer in the front yard with them. I amazed myself at how willing I was to step into a "stepmother" role. Never before I had even fantasized about having children. And here I was - Very much in a position to inherit two of them, and I wanted it. I wanted the whole thing. The family outings, the bedtime baths, brushing their hair, coming up with little art projects for us to do together, playing childhood games... All of it. There were no games between us, no guessing, no wondering or waiting by the phone. This was the kind of relationship I had been waiting for.
About a week or so before their birthday, we went out to dinner and "Tarzan" said that he had procrastinated on buying supplies for their birthday party. After dinner, we just HAD to go back to the house and get on the birthdayexpress.com website and order some things, and he wanted my help. :) No problem!
We made a little "detour" before we actually got to my computer. As we lay there, talking and cuddling, I had such a rush of emotion. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I was scared. Everything was moving so smoothly. What if it freaked him out? What if he thought I was getting too close to him and his girls? I saw the same dreamy look in his eyes, but how could I be sure? I held my tongue. Finally he said we had to get dressed and get on that website.
Before we left my bedroom, I turned to him in the candlelight and slipped my arms around him. "What?" he asked.
"Would it freak you out terribly if I told you I love you?" I held my breath and waited for his response.
"Not at all," he said, "because I wanted to say that very thing just a few minutes ago."
"So say it," I said.
"I love you."
About a week or so before their birthday, we went out to dinner and "Tarzan" said that he had procrastinated on buying supplies for their birthday party. After dinner, we just HAD to go back to the house and get on the birthdayexpress.com website and order some things, and he wanted my help. :) No problem!
We made a little "detour" before we actually got to my computer. As we lay there, talking and cuddling, I had such a rush of emotion. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I was scared. Everything was moving so smoothly. What if it freaked him out? What if he thought I was getting too close to him and his girls? I saw the same dreamy look in his eyes, but how could I be sure? I held my tongue. Finally he said we had to get dressed and get on that website.
Before we left my bedroom, I turned to him in the candlelight and slipped my arms around him. "What?" he asked.
"Would it freak you out terribly if I told you I love you?" I held my breath and waited for his response.
"Not at all," he said, "because I wanted to say that very thing just a few minutes ago."
"So say it," I said.
"I love you."
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Chapter 45: We Girls Like 'Woo'
Over the next several weeks, "Tarzan" proceeded to take up so much of my time that I didn't even have the opportunity to see anyone else. I was okay with this. It was nice to get that daily phone call (or calls!) at work, nice to have a man asking to see me several times in a week, and most definitely on weekends. Other than the time he spent with his girls, he wanted to see me as much as possible. Sometimes we went out, sometimes we stayed in, it didn't matter. We were having a blast - both in deep "smit."
I was very respectful of the time he had with his girls, and made conscious efforts to stay away during those times. He had made several comments about me meeting the girls, and I would always recoil at the thought. Even though I knew we weren't seeing anyone else, we had not made any "official" exclusive commitment yet, and I didn't feel that adding the children into the equation was prudent just yet. He seemed to have no problem with the idea, and couldn't seem to wait for me to meet them, but I was still hesitating. Kids? How would I approach that? Kids can be even more judgmental than parents, and they don't always hold back, either. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing by waiting to meet them, but, in truth, I was terrified of meeting them. They were these beautiful 6-year-old little girls, Daddy's girls, who had been through a bazaar divorce, and already had a new stepfather. "Tarzan" had told me several times that they kept asking him when he was going to get a girlfriend, so one might think that they were ready for that. But what if they weren't? What if my limited experience with children wasn't enough to win them over?
We'd been seeing each almost a month when "Tarzan" had to take an overnight trip to Augusta for work. And who should call me but the Swiss pilot? He tried to convince me to come over for "a glass of wine." And, let's just say that he wasn't nearly that charming about it. I could have... He may have been arrogant, but he WAS sexy. And "Tarzan" and I weren't exclusive. But I just didn't want to. The pilot kept asking, and I kept shrugging him off. In the end, I just never called him back.
Then it occurred to me: If I didn't want to hook up with the sexy Swiss pilot, maybe I was more committed to "Tarzan" than I was admitting to myself? When he came back into town, I told him just that. I told him that I had the opportunity to go out with someone else, and that I just didn't want to go, and how would he feel about "officially" making it exclusive. The broadest grin crossed his face and he said, "Are you kidding? I've been wanting to call you my 'girlfriend' for weeks!"
So it was official - it was the end of the summer, I'd been divorced for just over six months, officially dating for about five of those months, and I had a "boyfriend." :)
I was very respectful of the time he had with his girls, and made conscious efforts to stay away during those times. He had made several comments about me meeting the girls, and I would always recoil at the thought. Even though I knew we weren't seeing anyone else, we had not made any "official" exclusive commitment yet, and I didn't feel that adding the children into the equation was prudent just yet. He seemed to have no problem with the idea, and couldn't seem to wait for me to meet them, but I was still hesitating. Kids? How would I approach that? Kids can be even more judgmental than parents, and they don't always hold back, either. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing by waiting to meet them, but, in truth, I was terrified of meeting them. They were these beautiful 6-year-old little girls, Daddy's girls, who had been through a bazaar divorce, and already had a new stepfather. "Tarzan" had told me several times that they kept asking him when he was going to get a girlfriend, so one might think that they were ready for that. But what if they weren't? What if my limited experience with children wasn't enough to win them over?
We'd been seeing each almost a month when "Tarzan" had to take an overnight trip to Augusta for work. And who should call me but the Swiss pilot? He tried to convince me to come over for "a glass of wine." And, let's just say that he wasn't nearly that charming about it. I could have... He may have been arrogant, but he WAS sexy. And "Tarzan" and I weren't exclusive. But I just didn't want to. The pilot kept asking, and I kept shrugging him off. In the end, I just never called him back.
Then it occurred to me: If I didn't want to hook up with the sexy Swiss pilot, maybe I was more committed to "Tarzan" than I was admitting to myself? When he came back into town, I told him just that. I told him that I had the opportunity to go out with someone else, and that I just didn't want to go, and how would he feel about "officially" making it exclusive. The broadest grin crossed his face and he said, "Are you kidding? I've been wanting to call you my 'girlfriend' for weeks!"
So it was official - it was the end of the summer, I'd been divorced for just over six months, officially dating for about five of those months, and I had a "boyfriend." :)
Monday, September 12, 2011
Chapter 44: ...And With Flying Colors
The next morning, I had an email waiting for me before I even got to work. "Tarzan" thanked me for a fantastic date, told me I was a "phenomenal" kisser, and wanted to go out again as soon as I had time. He was chasing, and he was courting, and I liked it. This is how it was supposed to be. I had the perfect opportunity to do it right this time. Of course, the big question was, "Could I?"
We planned a date for Friday night, and then continued talking via Instant Messenger and phone for the rest of the week. Okay, the accent was still annoying, but it was getting easier and easier to get past it to see the person he was underneath. And the more I learned, the more I liked. He was intelligent, knew how to be serious, knew how to be funny, financially stable, and he had this way of getting slightly giddy when he talked about us together, almost in the same way he got giddy when he talked about his girls. It was just enough to tell me that these were subjects that made him happy, and that was a very comforting and flattering feeling.
We met at Pappa Deux for dinner that Friday night. It started out slow, like our previous date, but then we both started to loosen up a little, sharing a bit about our day and the like. Maybe he was trying to impress me, or maybe he just liked wine, but I was really surprised when he suggested that we order a bottle of wine with dinner. I'd had a glass or two of wine when I'd been out before, but I couldn't recall ever being asked to pick out an entire bottle before! And he wanted MY opinion as to which wine we should get.
Another surprise, "Tarzan" liked Merlot. Again I was reminded of the stereotype I had attached to him because of his accent. Most rednecks wouldn't consider Merlot with their dinner, now would they? I chose a bottle of Clos du Bois, a brand that I'd been wanting to try, and I was delighted that, not only was it as good as I'd hoped it would be, but he enjoyed it too! I would have felt like crap if he'd just spent $40 on a bottle of wine and then hated it.
A delicious dinner and a bottle of Clos du Bois Merlot later, and we ended up back at my house. Yeah, I was doing the mental debating again. Should I, or shouldn't I? With "Tarzan," things felt different. He really was smitten with me, and I was certainly getting there. He had made absolutely no moves or comments that insinuated that he was just after a one night stand, and it was hard for me to picture that he could be that type of man. Maybe I was deluding myself, maybe I wasn't. Either way, I took him upstairs, (will I never learn?) and it was wonderful! He seemed even more smitten with me after. There wasn't a shred of nervousness or regret floating around inside me. I felt completely comfortable. I didn't even ponder whether or not I would get the "day after" phone call from "Tarzan." When he left, I had every confidence that I would.
We planned a date for Friday night, and then continued talking via Instant Messenger and phone for the rest of the week. Okay, the accent was still annoying, but it was getting easier and easier to get past it to see the person he was underneath. And the more I learned, the more I liked. He was intelligent, knew how to be serious, knew how to be funny, financially stable, and he had this way of getting slightly giddy when he talked about us together, almost in the same way he got giddy when he talked about his girls. It was just enough to tell me that these were subjects that made him happy, and that was a very comforting and flattering feeling.
We met at Pappa Deux for dinner that Friday night. It started out slow, like our previous date, but then we both started to loosen up a little, sharing a bit about our day and the like. Maybe he was trying to impress me, or maybe he just liked wine, but I was really surprised when he suggested that we order a bottle of wine with dinner. I'd had a glass or two of wine when I'd been out before, but I couldn't recall ever being asked to pick out an entire bottle before! And he wanted MY opinion as to which wine we should get.
Another surprise, "Tarzan" liked Merlot. Again I was reminded of the stereotype I had attached to him because of his accent. Most rednecks wouldn't consider Merlot with their dinner, now would they? I chose a bottle of Clos du Bois, a brand that I'd been wanting to try, and I was delighted that, not only was it as good as I'd hoped it would be, but he enjoyed it too! I would have felt like crap if he'd just spent $40 on a bottle of wine and then hated it.
A delicious dinner and a bottle of Clos du Bois Merlot later, and we ended up back at my house. Yeah, I was doing the mental debating again. Should I, or shouldn't I? With "Tarzan," things felt different. He really was smitten with me, and I was certainly getting there. He had made absolutely no moves or comments that insinuated that he was just after a one night stand, and it was hard for me to picture that he could be that type of man. Maybe I was deluding myself, maybe I wasn't. Either way, I took him upstairs, (will I never learn?) and it was wonderful! He seemed even more smitten with me after. There wasn't a shred of nervousness or regret floating around inside me. I felt completely comfortable. I didn't even ponder whether or not I would get the "day after" phone call from "Tarzan." When he left, I had every confidence that I would.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Chapter 43: Winks and Spontaneity
So as you can imagine, I was feeling a little despondent about this whole thing. I was certainly losing my enthusiasm, and I had pretty much lost my faith in the idea that I would actually find someone again. I was at work when I received a new "wink" from "Tarzan". Hmmm... he looked familiar. I bet he'd winked at me before. He was a nice-looking guy - I wondered why I hadn't responded. I'd noticed his picture, too, in some of the searches I'd done on Match, but had never received or sent a message from or to him. The fact that his picture stood out to me counted for something. I didn't normally respond to "winks," but maybe I'd see what this guy had to say.
He was eager and excited to hear from me. Within minutes, we were messaging on Yahoo, and within the hour, we had agreed on meeting for dinner that night. I liked the way he conducted himself on Instant Messenger. He was polite and respectful, quiet and shy in his own way, but willing to speak his mind when properly motivated. I could tell just from the wide variety of words he used that "Tarzan" was indeed intelligent. He asked if we could talk on the phone before we met for dinner, and I gave him my office line.
Oh, boy...
What had I done? The voice on the other end belied the intelligence I had been reading in our Instant Message session. I was listening to the slowest, most dim-witted, back-woods, country bumpkin Southern accent I'd ever heard. I realized that I shouldn't pre-judge someone based on their accent, but the man I was speaking on the phone with didn't talk with the same ease and comfortability that he had typed with. How was I going to put up with that accent and the awkward silences all through dinner? However, I had already agreed to go, so I went.
It started out just as awkward as I had thought it would. But I had a few drinks and loosened up a bit, and we both started to relax. We shared some divorce war stories, and he told me about his twin 6-year-old daughters. I could see the pride in his eyes and hear it in his voice every time he mentioned their names.
When it was time to go, we both agreed that we wanted to show off our cars to each other. He, with is custom collector Mustang, and me, with my special order TransAm. We started at his, and ended at mine. Sitting in my car, we were just talking and laughing, when he leaned over and kissed me. It took me a bit by surprise, but he was strong and passionate. His hands tangled into my hair and his fists clenched, telling me in no uncertain terms that he wanted me. I liked it. The front seat of my TransAm wasn't exactly the most comfortable situation, but we didn't seem to notice. We kissed for what seemed like hours.
Finally, we grudgingly peeled ourselves apart and admitted we needed to go home. Never would I have expected this date to turn out so well! Never had I been on a date that started out so wrong and turned out so right! I drove home feeling elated, but not overly confident. He still had to pass the "day after phone call" test.
He was eager and excited to hear from me. Within minutes, we were messaging on Yahoo, and within the hour, we had agreed on meeting for dinner that night. I liked the way he conducted himself on Instant Messenger. He was polite and respectful, quiet and shy in his own way, but willing to speak his mind when properly motivated. I could tell just from the wide variety of words he used that "Tarzan" was indeed intelligent. He asked if we could talk on the phone before we met for dinner, and I gave him my office line.
Oh, boy...
What had I done? The voice on the other end belied the intelligence I had been reading in our Instant Message session. I was listening to the slowest, most dim-witted, back-woods, country bumpkin Southern accent I'd ever heard. I realized that I shouldn't pre-judge someone based on their accent, but the man I was speaking on the phone with didn't talk with the same ease and comfortability that he had typed with. How was I going to put up with that accent and the awkward silences all through dinner? However, I had already agreed to go, so I went.
It started out just as awkward as I had thought it would. But I had a few drinks and loosened up a bit, and we both started to relax. We shared some divorce war stories, and he told me about his twin 6-year-old daughters. I could see the pride in his eyes and hear it in his voice every time he mentioned their names.
When it was time to go, we both agreed that we wanted to show off our cars to each other. He, with is custom collector Mustang, and me, with my special order TransAm. We started at his, and ended at mine. Sitting in my car, we were just talking and laughing, when he leaned over and kissed me. It took me a bit by surprise, but he was strong and passionate. His hands tangled into my hair and his fists clenched, telling me in no uncertain terms that he wanted me. I liked it. The front seat of my TransAm wasn't exactly the most comfortable situation, but we didn't seem to notice. We kissed for what seemed like hours.
Finally, we grudgingly peeled ourselves apart and admitted we needed to go home. Never would I have expected this date to turn out so well! Never had I been on a date that started out so wrong and turned out so right! I drove home feeling elated, but not overly confident. He still had to pass the "day after phone call" test.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Chapter 42: *Sigh*
By now, I was starting to roll my eyes at almost every contact I got. Make no mistake about it, I was still receiving daily "winks" or emails, but I was getting jaded. I kept looking back over the last six months and wondering what in hell I was thinking!?!?!
Who was that girl that met a man at a Valentine's Day party and ended up on the balcony of a room in the W Hotel with a stranger under her skirt? Who was that girl that got so clingy and desperate to hang on to "Tramp", when he made it so obviously clear that he didn't want me? Who was that over-reactive psycho that kept insisting on some sort of explanation from "Goofy" when he refused to talk? And WHO IN HELL was that slut that slept with every man who crossed her path over the last month? Certainly that couldn't have been me? A good, long, hard look in the mirror reminded me that it was.
I needed to be more picky. And, more importantly, I needed to be less available to these men. But I didn't want to be TOO picky, and I didn't want to be "un"available, either. There was certainly no shortage of men out there, contrary to what most women seem to say. I no longer felt I needed to give every bonehead that crossed my path a chance for fear that I "might be passing up a good one." They needed to impress me, dammit. Anything less than that was just a waste of my time. And theirs. So what was the big picture? What did I really want? Defining this question to myself seemed even more important than I how I should begin conducting myself around my suitors. So what DID I really want?
I wanted companionship. I was lonely. And the more casual interludes I had, the lonelier I felt. Sure, it was fun for a few hours, but who was there to say, "Good morning," who was there to send me random emails throughout the day, and, most importantly, who was there to stand by my side if there were some drama in my life that I might need a hug for? I wanted to believe that I was over the casual sex phase, but I wasn't exactly looking to get married tomorrow either. I just wanted to spend time with someone who wanted to spend time with me. No games, no cageyness, no standoffishness, no disrespect, just enjoying being in someone else's company. Was this really too much to ask for?
Who was that girl that met a man at a Valentine's Day party and ended up on the balcony of a room in the W Hotel with a stranger under her skirt? Who was that girl that got so clingy and desperate to hang on to "Tramp", when he made it so obviously clear that he didn't want me? Who was that over-reactive psycho that kept insisting on some sort of explanation from "Goofy" when he refused to talk? And WHO IN HELL was that slut that slept with every man who crossed her path over the last month? Certainly that couldn't have been me? A good, long, hard look in the mirror reminded me that it was.
I needed to be more picky. And, more importantly, I needed to be less available to these men. But I didn't want to be TOO picky, and I didn't want to be "un"available, either. There was certainly no shortage of men out there, contrary to what most women seem to say. I no longer felt I needed to give every bonehead that crossed my path a chance for fear that I "might be passing up a good one." They needed to impress me, dammit. Anything less than that was just a waste of my time. And theirs. So what was the big picture? What did I really want? Defining this question to myself seemed even more important than I how I should begin conducting myself around my suitors. So what DID I really want?
I wanted companionship. I was lonely. And the more casual interludes I had, the lonelier I felt. Sure, it was fun for a few hours, but who was there to say, "Good morning," who was there to send me random emails throughout the day, and, most importantly, who was there to stand by my side if there were some drama in my life that I might need a hug for? I wanted to believe that I was over the casual sex phase, but I wasn't exactly looking to get married tomorrow either. I just wanted to spend time with someone who wanted to spend time with me. No games, no cageyness, no standoffishness, no disrespect, just enjoying being in someone else's company. Was this really too much to ask for?
Friday, September 2, 2011
Chapter 41: Let's Meet, Greet, Eat...
Moving on...
"Quasimoto" sent me a message through Match.com soon after. His email was just a bit, uh, over-enthusiastic. Every sentence ended with an exclamation mark, and he went on wondering how he could have "missed" seeing me, and then kept saying we should "meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
For those of you who aren't from the South, or the North-East suburbs of Atlanta, more specifically, the Waffle House is the 24 hour restaurant that is on just about every corner. It's the default place to go when the bars close. The place is quaint, and the food is greasy - just the stuff that hits the spot when you've had too much to drink. For our North-Eastern American readers, equate Waffle House to your Whitecastle, and there you have it.
Now, "Quasimoto" was, by no means, attractive to me, AND he was a good 12 years older than me, WAY out of my age range. Now, I'm not so cold-hearted as to tell someone that I don't find them attractive, so I'll find some other reason to give if I'm going to turn someone down. Something that, hopefully, dictates some logic and leave it at that. You're too old, you live too far away, you said you wouldn't date someone who smoked, I'm not a Christian, I'm allergic to camping, You're still married, etc... Anything to get them off my back. (This technique, by the way, has worked maybe 3% of the time. I just haven't found another technique yet to test out.) Since "Quasimoto" lived in the same city as me, I couldn't use distance, so I told him that he was out of my age range and left it at that.
Like the stray dog that you give a treat to, this one was NOT going to go away.
(Brief tangent: By the way, I would love to know how responding with a "NO" gives these men reason to think that, just because you responded AT ALL, this is an open door they need to force their way through? Ladies, as bitchy as it feels to do, it's easier to just not answer them at all than to try to turn them down. For some reason they think you are offering up a challenge to convince you to change your mind. I have yet to discover the reasoning behind this.... Okay, soapbox away, and we continue where we left off....)
So "Quasimoto's" response consisted of explaining to me, in detail, his entire workout routine (proving that he was not old and feeble), and then he threw his resume at me, explaining all of the famous people he'd rubbed elbows with, all of the companies he'd started, and how he'd managed to retire early. And, of course, ending with his catch-phrase: "So let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
Again, I guess I was being too nice by responding. I wrote him back and told him that I didn't say he was too old and feeble, just that he had 12 years of LIFE on me, and that I've had bad experiences with significant age differences before. I also told him that I didn't need him to recite his entire resume at me, and I was sorry if he felt the need to do so. Make no doubt about it, I politely turned him down again.
He came back at me, claiming that he would bring news articles to support any and all claims he had made, adding a few more bits to his resume, and then interjecting his signature, "Let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
This was getting obnoxious. Okay, time to get bitchy. I wrote him back and told him that I was not too thrilled with the idea that someone would want to take me to the Waffle House on a first date.
"Quasimoto's" response?
"Quasimoto" sent me a message through Match.com soon after. His email was just a bit, uh, over-enthusiastic. Every sentence ended with an exclamation mark, and he went on wondering how he could have "missed" seeing me, and then kept saying we should "meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
For those of you who aren't from the South, or the North-East suburbs of Atlanta, more specifically, the Waffle House is the 24 hour restaurant that is on just about every corner. It's the default place to go when the bars close. The place is quaint, and the food is greasy - just the stuff that hits the spot when you've had too much to drink. For our North-Eastern American readers, equate Waffle House to your Whitecastle, and there you have it.
Now, "Quasimoto" was, by no means, attractive to me, AND he was a good 12 years older than me, WAY out of my age range. Now, I'm not so cold-hearted as to tell someone that I don't find them attractive, so I'll find some other reason to give if I'm going to turn someone down. Something that, hopefully, dictates some logic and leave it at that. You're too old, you live too far away, you said you wouldn't date someone who smoked, I'm not a Christian, I'm allergic to camping, You're still married, etc... Anything to get them off my back. (This technique, by the way, has worked maybe 3% of the time. I just haven't found another technique yet to test out.) Since "Quasimoto" lived in the same city as me, I couldn't use distance, so I told him that he was out of my age range and left it at that.
Like the stray dog that you give a treat to, this one was NOT going to go away.
(Brief tangent: By the way, I would love to know how responding with a "NO" gives these men reason to think that, just because you responded AT ALL, this is an open door they need to force their way through? Ladies, as bitchy as it feels to do, it's easier to just not answer them at all than to try to turn them down. For some reason they think you are offering up a challenge to convince you to change your mind. I have yet to discover the reasoning behind this.... Okay, soapbox away, and we continue where we left off....)
So "Quasimoto's" response consisted of explaining to me, in detail, his entire workout routine (proving that he was not old and feeble), and then he threw his resume at me, explaining all of the famous people he'd rubbed elbows with, all of the companies he'd started, and how he'd managed to retire early. And, of course, ending with his catch-phrase: "So let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
Again, I guess I was being too nice by responding. I wrote him back and told him that I didn't say he was too old and feeble, just that he had 12 years of LIFE on me, and that I've had bad experiences with significant age differences before. I also told him that I didn't need him to recite his entire resume at me, and I was sorry if he felt the need to do so. Make no doubt about it, I politely turned him down again.
He came back at me, claiming that he would bring news articles to support any and all claims he had made, adding a few more bits to his resume, and then interjecting his signature, "Let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"
This was getting obnoxious. Okay, time to get bitchy. I wrote him back and told him that I was not too thrilled with the idea that someone would want to take me to the Waffle House on a first date.
"Quasimoto's" response?
I'm not trying to impress you with amenities, I'm going to impress you with my intelligence, wit and charm! I need to meet at the Waffle House because it's some place I can walk to. I don't have a car right now. Oh, and, by the way, would you mind giving me a ride home after? Let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!No car, I'm supposed to chauffeur him around, and he wants to wine and dine me at the Waffle House? Yeah, now here's a real winner, ladies, take note! Did you move back in with your Mommy when you so gallantly retired early? I could NOT waste anymore time on this lunatic. For the first time I utilized the "block" feature on Match.com. Had this tactic actually ever worked for him???
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Chapter 40: Anyone Order Swiss?
So it took a few days to come down off the high of my fantastic evening with Aladdin. I had no preconceptions about him. I knew exactly where he was, and he was not playing in a "committed" field. As a matter of fact, he was playing in a "me" field, and much more interested in concentrating on making his own life better. I respected that. I knew that we would, in all likelyhood, continue having occasional, casual rendezvous. As long as he remained respectful of me, I was okay with that.
The good thing, of course, was that this left me open to pursue other prospects. This sexy Swiss commercial airline pilot had been talking to me online for a while, and he wanted to hook up. The French accent, the pilot's uniform, and the blonde hair had me melting. He was flying home on a Sunday night and wanted to take me out. Say no? I don't think so!
His flight was horribly delayed, and he didn't get back to Atlanta until quite late. Too late to go to dinner. He called when he landed and convinced me to let him come over. My bells went off again. It was unsafe to allow yet another stranger to my house. And, considering my self-control track record, I didn't think he was exactly coming over to "talk."
I should have been jaded and bitter, considering the encounters I'd had with men over the previous month. I should have played hard to get, mysterious and coy. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. My wiser self was telling me I was repeating a destructive cycle, but I chose to ignore it. Again. Apparently I had not yet learned my lesson. And when he showed up on my doorstep, still in his pilot's uniform, I knew that I wasn't ready to learn my lesson yet.
I wasn't nearly as blown away as I thought I would be. And, to add insult to injury, he ends up telling me a couple of days later that I wasn't aggressive enough "orally" and not submissive enough in bed. Nothing like being critiqued on your sexual skills. Which, I must say, I get complimented on a lot, and am quite confident, so I knew he was full of it. I so badly wanted to tell him that he was no Gladiator in bed, either, but I let it slide. No point antagonizing the situation. I guess he needed his ego pumped up even more after this, because he proceeded to tell me that he had a girlfriend (a fact he failed to mention up to this point), and she was a bit of a prude in bed. So what he was really looking for was someone he could keep on the side to get kinky with. As attractive as this was (not), I turned him down. Six months later, and he was STILL contacting me, trying to get me into bed again. I couldn't have been all that bad, now could I?
The good thing, of course, was that this left me open to pursue other prospects. This sexy Swiss commercial airline pilot had been talking to me online for a while, and he wanted to hook up. The French accent, the pilot's uniform, and the blonde hair had me melting. He was flying home on a Sunday night and wanted to take me out. Say no? I don't think so!
His flight was horribly delayed, and he didn't get back to Atlanta until quite late. Too late to go to dinner. He called when he landed and convinced me to let him come over. My bells went off again. It was unsafe to allow yet another stranger to my house. And, considering my self-control track record, I didn't think he was exactly coming over to "talk."
I should have been jaded and bitter, considering the encounters I'd had with men over the previous month. I should have played hard to get, mysterious and coy. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. My wiser self was telling me I was repeating a destructive cycle, but I chose to ignore it. Again. Apparently I had not yet learned my lesson. And when he showed up on my doorstep, still in his pilot's uniform, I knew that I wasn't ready to learn my lesson yet.
I wasn't nearly as blown away as I thought I would be. And, to add insult to injury, he ends up telling me a couple of days later that I wasn't aggressive enough "orally" and not submissive enough in bed. Nothing like being critiqued on your sexual skills. Which, I must say, I get complimented on a lot, and am quite confident, so I knew he was full of it. I so badly wanted to tell him that he was no Gladiator in bed, either, but I let it slide. No point antagonizing the situation. I guess he needed his ego pumped up even more after this, because he proceeded to tell me that he had a girlfriend (a fact he failed to mention up to this point), and she was a bit of a prude in bed. So what he was really looking for was someone he could keep on the side to get kinky with. As attractive as this was (not), I turned him down. Six months later, and he was STILL contacting me, trying to get me into bed again. I couldn't have been all that bad, now could I?
Monday, August 22, 2011
Chapter 39: Didn't Expect That!
Much to my surprise, "Aladdin" called me that week. He said he was back in town now, and things were calming down for him and he'd like to go to dinner. I put aside the bitterness I'd experienced over the last few weeks and recalled the amazing night we'd had on the 4th of July (see entry "Fourth of July Fireworks"). I recalled the FIVE hour conversation we'd had on the phone the day before that made me late to my mother's bar-be-que. Given these statistics, I would be a fool to carry around a few weeks of baggage to claim a strike.
We met at the Five Seasons for dinner. It was a gorgeous summer evening, and threatening one of those electric summertime thunderstorms. When I walked up to the restaurant, "Aladdin" looked incredible. Toned and tanned, with just the right amount of snugness to his jeans. I found myself wanting to be classy, yet irresistible to him. We'd already been to bed, though, so deciding how forward I should/could be was a challenge.
The looming summer storm made good on it's promise and the lights went out a couple of times through dinner. I thought it was terribly romantic. The conversation through dinner flowed well, but there was a hint of awkwardness and tension in the air. Damn. I hoped that this wasn't a pity date. The obligatory second date he felt he had to make because he'd slept with me? Damn.
I took the plunge when dinner was winding down and asked if he wanted to go back to his place. (He lived very close by.) He agreed, but was ever so slightly hesitant. Damn. We went back to his place, played with his cat for a while, and he suggested a movie. We lay on the couch, cuddling, watching the movie. He held me, but his hands did not wander. Damn.
After much mental debating, I decided to just ask. I turned to him and plainly asked him, "So, I was wondering why you are being so careful. You are acting like you don't want to have sex with me again." I'll admit, I expected the "not feeling the chemistry talk." So I was pleasantly surprised when he brought up our marathon phone conversation from almost a month ago. I had told him that, while I don't expect exclusivity out of someone I'm just dating, I do prefer to only be intimate with one person at a time. (Obviously, I had not been following my own rule over the last month.) He told me that he respected that decision of mine, but that he couldn't give me sexual monogamy right now. He said he very much had wanted to see me tonight, but fully expected to not have sex with me for that very reason.
I blushed and lowered my head. I said, "Yeah, well, I've sort of revised that theory." He asked why. "Because I've been having a lot of fun." He smiled, and kissed me, and said, "Well, then, if that's the case, then I very much want to have sex with you!"
And, to maintain his perfect record, "Aladdin" rocked my world one more time.
We met at the Five Seasons for dinner. It was a gorgeous summer evening, and threatening one of those electric summertime thunderstorms. When I walked up to the restaurant, "Aladdin" looked incredible. Toned and tanned, with just the right amount of snugness to his jeans. I found myself wanting to be classy, yet irresistible to him. We'd already been to bed, though, so deciding how forward I should/could be was a challenge.
The looming summer storm made good on it's promise and the lights went out a couple of times through dinner. I thought it was terribly romantic. The conversation through dinner flowed well, but there was a hint of awkwardness and tension in the air. Damn. I hoped that this wasn't a pity date. The obligatory second date he felt he had to make because he'd slept with me? Damn.
I took the plunge when dinner was winding down and asked if he wanted to go back to his place. (He lived very close by.) He agreed, but was ever so slightly hesitant. Damn. We went back to his place, played with his cat for a while, and he suggested a movie. We lay on the couch, cuddling, watching the movie. He held me, but his hands did not wander. Damn.
After much mental debating, I decided to just ask. I turned to him and plainly asked him, "So, I was wondering why you are being so careful. You are acting like you don't want to have sex with me again." I'll admit, I expected the "not feeling the chemistry talk." So I was pleasantly surprised when he brought up our marathon phone conversation from almost a month ago. I had told him that, while I don't expect exclusivity out of someone I'm just dating, I do prefer to only be intimate with one person at a time. (Obviously, I had not been following my own rule over the last month.) He told me that he respected that decision of mine, but that he couldn't give me sexual monogamy right now. He said he very much had wanted to see me tonight, but fully expected to not have sex with me for that very reason.
I blushed and lowered my head. I said, "Yeah, well, I've sort of revised that theory." He asked why. "Because I've been having a lot of fun." He smiled, and kissed me, and said, "Well, then, if that's the case, then I very much want to have sex with you!"
And, to maintain his perfect record, "Aladdin" rocked my world one more time.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Chapter 38: But... I... Ummm... HUH?
"Timon" would be home Saturday! I couldn't wait! We talked about seeing each other Sunday, after he'd had a chance to settle in. Finally! A decent man to spend a little time with!
Sunday came, and when I finally heard from "Timon," late in the afternoon, he was out and about, running around, and heavily distracted. I didn't even want to ask if we'd be getting together. It was obvious he either didn't have the time, or just didn't want to. I'll admit, I hung up confused and upset. For three weeks he had been diligent in calling me everyday, and now, when we were finally in the same city at the same time, he had no time for me? How did this happen?
Well, take a step back. He had a life, too. Perhaps I should give him a little room to breathe. He'd been out of town for a good while. There might be things he had to tend to that were taking a couple of days of playing "catch up" to put them right again? Tuesday was his birthday, so when Tuesday came I sent him a text message on his phone, wishing him a fun day. No response. I tried to call, and got his voicemail. This was ridiculous. I'd had enough. Not only was it pointless to try to figure these men out, I was damn tired of doing it.
The FOLLOWING weekend I finally heard from him. He said he went to Virginia to visit a friend and CLAIMED to have left his phone at home. Games. I didn't have time for this. If he didn't want to see me, that's fine. But why take off to Virginia to see friends without even mentioning it to me?
Two weeks ago I had five men chasing after me, and now there wasn't one I should even condescend as to give the time of day to. I wanted to give up. It was hardly worth the effort anymore.
Sunday came, and when I finally heard from "Timon," late in the afternoon, he was out and about, running around, and heavily distracted. I didn't even want to ask if we'd be getting together. It was obvious he either didn't have the time, or just didn't want to. I'll admit, I hung up confused and upset. For three weeks he had been diligent in calling me everyday, and now, when we were finally in the same city at the same time, he had no time for me? How did this happen?
Well, take a step back. He had a life, too. Perhaps I should give him a little room to breathe. He'd been out of town for a good while. There might be things he had to tend to that were taking a couple of days of playing "catch up" to put them right again? Tuesday was his birthday, so when Tuesday came I sent him a text message on his phone, wishing him a fun day. No response. I tried to call, and got his voicemail. This was ridiculous. I'd had enough. Not only was it pointless to try to figure these men out, I was damn tired of doing it.
The FOLLOWING weekend I finally heard from him. He said he went to Virginia to visit a friend and CLAIMED to have left his phone at home. Games. I didn't have time for this. If he didn't want to see me, that's fine. But why take off to Virginia to see friends without even mentioning it to me?
Two weeks ago I had five men chasing after me, and now there wasn't one I should even condescend as to give the time of day to. I wanted to give up. It was hardly worth the effort anymore.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Chapter 37: "I got the town wired"
So I had been on the Internet dating circuit now for only four months. It seemed much longer. How many men had I been out with? How many had I slept with? Certainly way more than I ever could have by using conventional methods. The internet was proving to be an efficient and reliable method to meet an endless number of people from backgrounds I never would have crossed otherwise. As with anything though, you have to take the good with the bad. My screening processes absolutely had a little something left to be desired.
"Timon" continued his daily phone calls while he was traveling that week. I was increasingly getting more and more excited to see him during the upcoming weekend. Finally! But hold back, don't put too much of your emotional stock in one man. I learned that lesson with "Tramp." "Tramp," by the way, still plagued my thoughts from time to time, and I still felt helpless to the unknown knowledge as to why he cut me off so abruptly. I wondered what he was doing, how things were going for him. Had I come across as the most clingy and needy woman he'd ever met? Or was he back with his ex-girlfriend, and that's why he refused to talk to me? This was, of course, the most likely scenario, but still aggravating as hell not to know for sure.
So I was at work late one night, and contacted by "Zazoo" via Yahoo Messenger. He had seen my Personals Ad and was intrigued. I looked up his ad, and was intrigued. "Zazoo" was one of those, "I got the town wired" kind of guys, but his energy and enthusiasm was amusing. He was into making and producing music and had been doing so for quite some time. He pushed to meet for dinner when I got off work. I had no idea when I was going to finish, and I tried to explain that to him. But he was insistent. He wanted to take me out to dinner. Well, shoot, nothing wrong with a free meal, right? So I agreed.
This, I quickly discovered, was a mistake. Since I had agreed to dinner, and I had no idea exactly when this rendezvous would happen, we agreed to keep in contact by phone. I then began receiving phone calls from him every 15 minutes, wanting an update as to when I would get finished. Of course, this only delayed my progress each time. He ended up at the Outback restaurant we had agreed upon and asked if, perhaps, he should just get something to go, and bring it to my office. I still had work to do, and everyone had already gone home. Bringing a stranger to my place of business was ludicrous. But I was hungry, and it was late, and I DID work in a secured location that wouldn't be readily accessible should he turn out to be a stalker or something.
Yeah, I did it. And was beyond disappointed. Bringing me dinner to my office was incredibly sweet, and it did give us an opportunity to talk, but the picture he'd shown me was probably 10 years old, and at least 50 pounds ago. I did my best to be grateful and gracious, but I was completely turned off by him and his "I got the town wired" attitude. He had an egotistical quality that was irritating when I clearly didn't think he had any reason to be so. When "Zazoo" left, I tried to make it as politely clear as I could that I was not interested, and I thought he understood. However he attempted to contact me for a couple of days and finally got the hint. How do I seem to attract these weirdos?
"Timon" continued his daily phone calls while he was traveling that week. I was increasingly getting more and more excited to see him during the upcoming weekend. Finally! But hold back, don't put too much of your emotional stock in one man. I learned that lesson with "Tramp." "Tramp," by the way, still plagued my thoughts from time to time, and I still felt helpless to the unknown knowledge as to why he cut me off so abruptly. I wondered what he was doing, how things were going for him. Had I come across as the most clingy and needy woman he'd ever met? Or was he back with his ex-girlfriend, and that's why he refused to talk to me? This was, of course, the most likely scenario, but still aggravating as hell not to know for sure.
So I was at work late one night, and contacted by "Zazoo" via Yahoo Messenger. He had seen my Personals Ad and was intrigued. I looked up his ad, and was intrigued. "Zazoo" was one of those, "I got the town wired" kind of guys, but his energy and enthusiasm was amusing. He was into making and producing music and had been doing so for quite some time. He pushed to meet for dinner when I got off work. I had no idea when I was going to finish, and I tried to explain that to him. But he was insistent. He wanted to take me out to dinner. Well, shoot, nothing wrong with a free meal, right? So I agreed.
This, I quickly discovered, was a mistake. Since I had agreed to dinner, and I had no idea exactly when this rendezvous would happen, we agreed to keep in contact by phone. I then began receiving phone calls from him every 15 minutes, wanting an update as to when I would get finished. Of course, this only delayed my progress each time. He ended up at the Outback restaurant we had agreed upon and asked if, perhaps, he should just get something to go, and bring it to my office. I still had work to do, and everyone had already gone home. Bringing a stranger to my place of business was ludicrous. But I was hungry, and it was late, and I DID work in a secured location that wouldn't be readily accessible should he turn out to be a stalker or something.
Yeah, I did it. And was beyond disappointed. Bringing me dinner to my office was incredibly sweet, and it did give us an opportunity to talk, but the picture he'd shown me was probably 10 years old, and at least 50 pounds ago. I did my best to be grateful and gracious, but I was completely turned off by him and his "I got the town wired" attitude. He had an egotistical quality that was irritating when I clearly didn't think he had any reason to be so. When "Zazoo" left, I tried to make it as politely clear as I could that I was not interested, and I thought he understood. However he attempted to contact me for a couple of days and finally got the hint. How do I seem to attract these weirdos?
Monday, August 1, 2011
Chapter 36: Welcome Home to Me
"Timon" called me everyday while I was in Chicago. We enjoyed some late night talks after everyone else had gone to bed, and I was truly looking forward to seeing him again. Maybe all those other "up in the air" guys wouldn't really matter? I'll admit, I started allowing myself to entertain the idea that, once both of our traveling schedules died down, "Timon" and I might be able to start something of substance. But, at this point, it wouldn't be until after next weekend before I could find out.
My last day up there, though, it occurred to me that I didn't have a ride home. I knew I could take the train up to Doraville, and it would be fairly easy for anyone to pick me up and take me home. Mom was still in Pennsylvania, and was actually flying home the same day I was, but her flight didn't arrive until later in the evening, and her boyfriend was picking her up. I couldn't very well ask him to pick me up, just to have to turn around and pick mom up. I had a plenty of friends, and I could ask any one of them. But why? ;) I had boys galore to choose from!
"Timon" was traveling, so he was out. I called "Aladdin", but he had plans and was unable to break free. I didn't WANT to call "Basil," at all. He had sent me an email while I was there, with some non-sensical email about being freaked out. Whatever. Good riddens, buddy. "Kawena" was also unavailable, with apologies, and the conversation turned into a "not really feeling the chemistry" talk. Geez! I wasn't asking for marriage, I just needed a f--king ride! I wasn't so sure I wanted to call "Slim." I was feeling uneasy about what had happened and I wasn't so sure that was a connection I was interested in maintaining.
By the time I was sitting at the airport, waiting on my flight, I started to feel uneasy. How was it possible that, out of all these dates I'd had, not one single guy was willing to give me a stupid ride home from the train station? There was an episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha (definitely the character I'd been identifying with as of late) had just moved into a new place, and she'd contracted the flu. She hadn't hung her curtains yet, and was too sick to do so, but couldn't rest during the day because of all the daylight pouring through her windows. She went through her little black book and called all the men she slept with to come to her aid, and not one of them came through for her. In the end, her best friend's, Carrie's, boyfriend, came over and hung her curtains for her. When Carrie arrived with chicken soup, Samantha was reduced to tears, realizing that none of it meant anything if you didn't have a man in your life that you could depend on. This episode flashed through my head as I scrolled through countless numbers in my phone, in a desperate attempt to get a lousy 10 miles from the train station to my house.
My flight was delayed. I broke down and called "Slim." Since I didn't really know what time my flight would actually arrive in Atlanta, he said to call him when I landed and he'd "see" if he could make it. I was NOT impressed. So I called my next-door neighbor, who conveniently happens to be one of my best friends, and she said that she would come and get me. About damn time.
Well, between the 2 1/2 hours my flight was delayed, and the 1 1/2 hours we ended up sitting on the tarmac, awaiting takeoff approval, I ended up landing in Atlanta about 20 minutes before my mother did, so I just caught a ride home with her and her boyfriend.
I think it's time to take some emotional inventory, and possibly do some house-cleaning, don't you think?
My last day up there, though, it occurred to me that I didn't have a ride home. I knew I could take the train up to Doraville, and it would be fairly easy for anyone to pick me up and take me home. Mom was still in Pennsylvania, and was actually flying home the same day I was, but her flight didn't arrive until later in the evening, and her boyfriend was picking her up. I couldn't very well ask him to pick me up, just to have to turn around and pick mom up. I had a plenty of friends, and I could ask any one of them. But why? ;) I had boys galore to choose from!
"Timon" was traveling, so he was out. I called "Aladdin", but he had plans and was unable to break free. I didn't WANT to call "Basil," at all. He had sent me an email while I was there, with some non-sensical email about being freaked out. Whatever. Good riddens, buddy. "Kawena" was also unavailable, with apologies, and the conversation turned into a "not really feeling the chemistry" talk. Geez! I wasn't asking for marriage, I just needed a f--king ride! I wasn't so sure I wanted to call "Slim." I was feeling uneasy about what had happened and I wasn't so sure that was a connection I was interested in maintaining.
By the time I was sitting at the airport, waiting on my flight, I started to feel uneasy. How was it possible that, out of all these dates I'd had, not one single guy was willing to give me a stupid ride home from the train station? There was an episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha (definitely the character I'd been identifying with as of late) had just moved into a new place, and she'd contracted the flu. She hadn't hung her curtains yet, and was too sick to do so, but couldn't rest during the day because of all the daylight pouring through her windows. She went through her little black book and called all the men she slept with to come to her aid, and not one of them came through for her. In the end, her best friend's, Carrie's, boyfriend, came over and hung her curtains for her. When Carrie arrived with chicken soup, Samantha was reduced to tears, realizing that none of it meant anything if you didn't have a man in your life that you could depend on. This episode flashed through my head as I scrolled through countless numbers in my phone, in a desperate attempt to get a lousy 10 miles from the train station to my house.
My flight was delayed. I broke down and called "Slim." Since I didn't really know what time my flight would actually arrive in Atlanta, he said to call him when I landed and he'd "see" if he could make it. I was NOT impressed. So I called my next-door neighbor, who conveniently happens to be one of my best friends, and she said that she would come and get me. About damn time.
Well, between the 2 1/2 hours my flight was delayed, and the 1 1/2 hours we ended up sitting on the tarmac, awaiting takeoff approval, I ended up landing in Atlanta about 20 minutes before my mother did, so I just caught a ride home with her and her boyfriend.
I think it's time to take some emotional inventory, and possibly do some house-cleaning, don't you think?
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Chapter 35: Off to Chicago
So, I mentioned a few entries back that "Timon" was coming into the Atlanta airport about an hour before my flight to Chicago. We planned to rendezvous at the airport to see each other for a few minutes. It had been over a week since our interlude and he had been rather diligent in contacting me in some form or fashion almost everyday. With "Timon," I seemed to have escaped the "Sex on the First Date Curse." Hell, it wasn't even a date, it was more of a spontaneous booty-call, in reality.
So "Basil" showed up to take me to the train station, as promised. As I suspected he would be, he was wound up and short on time. He was ushering me out the door and shoving me and my luggage into his truck immediately. His phone went off several times and he seemed to thrive on taking his calls and sounding all important, giving orders to his subordinates. Maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn't. Either way, I sat in the passenger seat, quietly, thinking to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" The whole situation made me feel like a HUGE inconvenience and very uncomfortable. But I reminded myself that I had given him every opportunity to back out. After all, I had only asked for a favor, and made it clear that he could have said "no."
He dropped me off at the train station, and suddenly seemed to remember that he needed to be sweet. He kissed me, and told me that I looked pretty. Then he wished me a good time in Chicago, and I thanked him for the ride, and bade him good-bye.
"Timon" and I missed each other at the airport. His flight got in early, and I got held up at security. His ride showed up early, too, so he couldn't hang out and wait for me, and, for some reason, neither one of our cell phones were allowing calls to go through.
"Kawena" called while I was waiting at my gate, though. Surprise, surprise! I truly had not expected to hear from him again, and certainly not before I left! On the flight up, I allowed my mind to engage OFF of AutoPilot and contemplate my current situation. This was getting out of hand. I needed to make a list of them all! Let's see:
Aladdin: Can't forget about him. He would be back in town soon.
Timon: Who was being attentive and charming
Basil: A bit high strung, but certainly still in the picture
Kawena: A surprising phone call that might put him back in the contest
Slim: Not really sure where he fell into things yet
Maybe a weekend away would do me some good. I think I needed to put some distance between myself, Atlanta, and all the boys!
So "Basil" showed up to take me to the train station, as promised. As I suspected he would be, he was wound up and short on time. He was ushering me out the door and shoving me and my luggage into his truck immediately. His phone went off several times and he seemed to thrive on taking his calls and sounding all important, giving orders to his subordinates. Maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn't. Either way, I sat in the passenger seat, quietly, thinking to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" The whole situation made me feel like a HUGE inconvenience and very uncomfortable. But I reminded myself that I had given him every opportunity to back out. After all, I had only asked for a favor, and made it clear that he could have said "no."
He dropped me off at the train station, and suddenly seemed to remember that he needed to be sweet. He kissed me, and told me that I looked pretty. Then he wished me a good time in Chicago, and I thanked him for the ride, and bade him good-bye.
"Timon" and I missed each other at the airport. His flight got in early, and I got held up at security. His ride showed up early, too, so he couldn't hang out and wait for me, and, for some reason, neither one of our cell phones were allowing calls to go through.
"Kawena" called while I was waiting at my gate, though. Surprise, surprise! I truly had not expected to hear from him again, and certainly not before I left! On the flight up, I allowed my mind to engage OFF of AutoPilot and contemplate my current situation. This was getting out of hand. I needed to make a list of them all! Let's see:
Aladdin: Can't forget about him. He would be back in town soon.
Timon: Who was being attentive and charming
Basil: A bit high strung, but certainly still in the picture
Kawena: A surprising phone call that might put him back in the contest
Slim: Not really sure where he fell into things yet
Maybe a weekend away would do me some good. I think I needed to put some distance between myself, Atlanta, and all the boys!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Chapter 34: Running on Autopilot
Is exactly what I was doing - "Basil" called me the next day at work, which was a surprise, but I took advantage of it. I needed a ride to the train station that would take me to the airport the next day, and I asked him if he'd be available. He said he could, but then his true colors came out. He started stressing and obsessing how he was going to do it. I told him over and over that if it was a problem I would find another ride or call a taxi. He insisted that he'd be able to give me the ride, but the stress in his voice was obvious. I regretted asking him, but now I couldn't back out. No matter how much I tried to explain that it was okay for him to say "no," he seemed to thrive off of having to "deal" with this unexpected responsibility. Whatever. I gave him the opportunity to back out. If he wasn't smart enough to take it, I was going to accept the ride.
"Slim" and I exchanged several emails throughout the day about our rendezvous that night. "Slim" lived way too far away, and I'd told him that when he first contacted me. But he insisted that he would come out my way, with no questions asked. What was it about these men that they would drive 40 minutes or more to meet me? I certainly wouldn't.
He came to a bar that was close to my house. When he pulled up, he was even cuter in person than his picture. I say cute because he was a bit younger, and he looked it. He had that little boy shyness about him that was irresistible. And, much to my pleasure, was all of the 6'-5" he'd promised. It was after dinnertime, so we had agreed on drinks only. He offered dessert, though, on which I passed, but he ended up ordering a slice of pie for himself, and then a second slice, which he fed me bites of. It was a cheesy move, but it worked. I took the first move and leaned over the booth to kiss him. After that, I stayed on Autopilot and let him lead.
When we walked out to the parking lot to say "Good night," we kept kissing. He asked to come home with me. Autopilot: Don't think, just do. The Punchline? I glamorized that someone who was a few years younger would be hot and exciting? In reality, I forgot about the fact that inexperience leads to premature finishing. And he wasn't a "spring back to life" kind of guy, either. During the after-talk phase, I learned that he was a late bloomer and had had little to no spontaneous experience like we'd just had. Great, this explains a lot. He may have been chronologically 29, but sexually, he was about 21, if that. At least it was legal. :-\
"Slim" and I exchanged several emails throughout the day about our rendezvous that night. "Slim" lived way too far away, and I'd told him that when he first contacted me. But he insisted that he would come out my way, with no questions asked. What was it about these men that they would drive 40 minutes or more to meet me? I certainly wouldn't.
He came to a bar that was close to my house. When he pulled up, he was even cuter in person than his picture. I say cute because he was a bit younger, and he looked it. He had that little boy shyness about him that was irresistible. And, much to my pleasure, was all of the 6'-5" he'd promised. It was after dinnertime, so we had agreed on drinks only. He offered dessert, though, on which I passed, but he ended up ordering a slice of pie for himself, and then a second slice, which he fed me bites of. It was a cheesy move, but it worked. I took the first move and leaned over the booth to kiss him. After that, I stayed on Autopilot and let him lead.
When we walked out to the parking lot to say "Good night," we kept kissing. He asked to come home with me. Autopilot: Don't think, just do. The Punchline? I glamorized that someone who was a few years younger would be hot and exciting? In reality, I forgot about the fact that inexperience leads to premature finishing. And he wasn't a "spring back to life" kind of guy, either. During the after-talk phase, I learned that he was a late bloomer and had had little to no spontaneous experience like we'd just had. Great, this explains a lot. He may have been chronologically 29, but sexually, he was about 21, if that. At least it was legal. :-\
Monday, July 11, 2011
Chapter 33: Hoo Boy, ANOTHER?
I was contacted by "Slim" while I was at work that day. We started Instant Messaging and I just couldn't resist. He was a bit younger, 29, but he was a lawyer in his own practice and he was 6' 5", which completely turned me on.
He asked me out for that night, and I had to say "no," of course, because I already had a date with "Kawena," but I just couldn't say no and agreed to meet him the following night. I felt like I wasn't taking ANY of this seriously, but then again, I argued with myself, why did I have to take it seriously? Wasn't the point to have fun?
I met "Kawena" for dinner at Barnacle's. We sat outside on the deck, as the July weather was more than gorgeous. The first thing I realized was that he didn't look at all like I expected him to. He wasn't unattractive, by any stretch of the imagination. But all of the pictures he had posted were taken from somewhat far away, and he just looked different than I expected. Dinner, however, was great! Easy flowing conversation, no lulls, and constant laughter. I'll admit, though, that I felt insecure. Which, for those of you who have been following, is not like me at all. Was it my own insecurity, or was I picking up a vibe from him? I felt like I wasn't good enough for him. Was I not pretty enough? Not thin enough? Not classy enough? Maybe I just wasn't enough of a Buckhead princess for him? I unconsciously found myself attempting to impress him, sitting with my back straight, legs crossed, and not being too open.
What was I doing? This wasn't me! I never try to be someone I'm not when I meet someone new. While I will admit that there was a part of me that wanted to impress him, there was also a part of me that made me uncomfortable to the fact that I felt unworthy to this man. He wasn't exactly "all that," and I had no intention of becoming pretentious just for his sake.
I didn't even have to try. He admitted before we called it a night that he wasn't attracted to me. So, the vibes I was feeling weren't so far off. Was he not attracted to me because he felt my insecurity? I had a hard time believing that, considering how many dates I'd been on. Reacting insecurely must have been a result of something I was feeling from him. However, my bruised ego needed a boost as I drove home. I needed a booty call. Damn, why did "Timon" have to be traveling this week? Damn, "Aladdin" was traveling, too. Wasn't there anyone else?
"Basil." I didn't even want to give myself time to think about it. I called, he was home, and I weaseled an invite over out of him. His place was modest. Half of a duplex. But he owned it and normally had the other side rented out. He offered me wine and we played with his cat. Too much time had passed, and my inhibitions were taking over. I couldn't make the move. In the kitchen, on a wine refill, he pushed me up against the wall and started to kiss me. My inhibitions instantly dissolved and I allowed him to lead me into his bedroom. He was extremely turned on by the "taboo" of what we were doing. I enjoyed myself, but as I drove home, I realized that it wasn't exactly the ego boost I needed.
Was it him? Was it me? Was it morality? Whatever it was, I wasn't ready to admit that I was going about this all wrong. So, in denial, I stayed.
He asked me out for that night, and I had to say "no," of course, because I already had a date with "Kawena," but I just couldn't say no and agreed to meet him the following night. I felt like I wasn't taking ANY of this seriously, but then again, I argued with myself, why did I have to take it seriously? Wasn't the point to have fun?
I met "Kawena" for dinner at Barnacle's. We sat outside on the deck, as the July weather was more than gorgeous. The first thing I realized was that he didn't look at all like I expected him to. He wasn't unattractive, by any stretch of the imagination. But all of the pictures he had posted were taken from somewhat far away, and he just looked different than I expected. Dinner, however, was great! Easy flowing conversation, no lulls, and constant laughter. I'll admit, though, that I felt insecure. Which, for those of you who have been following, is not like me at all. Was it my own insecurity, or was I picking up a vibe from him? I felt like I wasn't good enough for him. Was I not pretty enough? Not thin enough? Not classy enough? Maybe I just wasn't enough of a Buckhead princess for him? I unconsciously found myself attempting to impress him, sitting with my back straight, legs crossed, and not being too open.
What was I doing? This wasn't me! I never try to be someone I'm not when I meet someone new. While I will admit that there was a part of me that wanted to impress him, there was also a part of me that made me uncomfortable to the fact that I felt unworthy to this man. He wasn't exactly "all that," and I had no intention of becoming pretentious just for his sake.
I didn't even have to try. He admitted before we called it a night that he wasn't attracted to me. So, the vibes I was feeling weren't so far off. Was he not attracted to me because he felt my insecurity? I had a hard time believing that, considering how many dates I'd been on. Reacting insecurely must have been a result of something I was feeling from him. However, my bruised ego needed a boost as I drove home. I needed a booty call. Damn, why did "Timon" have to be traveling this week? Damn, "Aladdin" was traveling, too. Wasn't there anyone else?
"Basil." I didn't even want to give myself time to think about it. I called, he was home, and I weaseled an invite over out of him. His place was modest. Half of a duplex. But he owned it and normally had the other side rented out. He offered me wine and we played with his cat. Too much time had passed, and my inhibitions were taking over. I couldn't make the move. In the kitchen, on a wine refill, he pushed me up against the wall and started to kiss me. My inhibitions instantly dissolved and I allowed him to lead me into his bedroom. He was extremely turned on by the "taboo" of what we were doing. I enjoyed myself, but as I drove home, I realized that it wasn't exactly the ego boost I needed.
Was it him? Was it me? Was it morality? Whatever it was, I wasn't ready to admit that I was going about this all wrong. So, in denial, I stayed.
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