Mysterious Ways

28 days.  Seems short – over in a blink most times.  But lately it feels like a death sentence.  We met February 8^th and you left the country on the 10^th, for 28 days.  

 Two dates in two days – two amazing dates where we soaked up one others lives and yes, a rather obvious sexual chemistry.  We went further than we should have on our second date – perhaps it was eased by its location, my apartment.  We wanted to behave and we were doing a hell of a job at it despite making out like school girls on my couch.  We were doing a hell of a job at it until you said to me, “Let’s take this to the bed.”  Neither of us had had anything to drink, it was completely clear minded action – and without a moment’s hesitation, you scooped me up and carried me over to my bed.  I have never experienced anything like that; my body and mind immediately turned to mush.

Your touch is hypnotic and so incredibly smooth – it felt as if I were being drugged ever so slowly.  I could feel my body loosening and my mind being entirely at ease.  I don’t want to rush this – I want to take time to get to know you and discover what makes you, you.  I see a level of potential that I have never seen in any of my previous relationships.  I see you coming home with me to meet my family, having a family dinner and plenty of conversation.  I’ve never seen that until I met you.  Our connection is rather clear, conversation is fluid – no awkward silence, plenty of laughter. 

I know you are on the other side of the world, but I still find your nearly complete silence confusing.  You said you would reach out and you only have when I reached out to say I couldn’t find your ring at my place.  I don’t think I would be so puzzled by it if you weren’t active on the dating site we met on.  If you can check that, then how hard is it to send me a text message?  I realize you are incredibly busy and I don’t want to be THAT girl, but I am.  I am sorry for that.  But at the same time, I respect it – for it shows you are focused on your job, you pride yourself in your work.  I find that so very attractive.

I know we both said we don’t want to rush this – so truly why would you want to reach out to someone you barely know.  Plus, we both agree that we prefer to communicate in person.  Even lengthy e-mails, as much as we would enjoy it, seems like it would take away the fun of getting to know one another sitting across from each other in a restaurant or walking along the Hi-Line bundled up and clutching cups of hot chocolate. 

That is what I need to embrace – that we will spend time together when you return.  We will look at each other from across the table, feeling that wave of nervousness mixed with arousal – taking it all in.  I need to busy up my schedule to not have my thoughts dominated by you.  It’s the only way I can avoid over thinking this new, exciting opportunity.  And who’s to say you are truly not thinking about me?  I’ll never know until you return – it’s that sense of mystery that my sister always preaches.  Wanting to know more, slowly, but surely you will build towards something.  Don’t reveal all your cards at once – this is not implying that this is a game, it’s just part of the way dating works.

Easy Silence

The reply came in with just under an hour to go in the day.  I didn’t hesitate in my reply – you sounded sad and as your friend, I wanted to be there for you.

Allow me to rewind to last week – you were very erratic in your texts from the previous Sunday.   I was taken aback but not all that surprised.  You came down on me, hard.  And considering I had only gone to bed three hours earlier, I was in no mood for your daggers.

It started off innocently, you mentioned that it would be difficult for us to meet up to talk about our boundaries and my actions at your bar on Super Bowl Sunday.  I was trying to keep up with the flood of texts you were sending, I went sexual on you – when there were other personal texts from you coming in about your son.  I never meant for those to cross the lines of communication, but somehow you didn’t believe me.  Your intensity annoyed me and I elected to not reply any further.  I didn’t want your cold behavior ruining my mindset; after all, I had a date later and I was more than excited about it.  She seemed like a great catch and she was extremely attractive.  

There was silence between us for a few days – and quite frankly, it didn’t upset me.  I was focused on work and the girl who wanted a second date within hours of the first due to a work trip that would take her out of the country for three weeks the next day.  There was also a part of me that thought I would never hear from you again – that you were done with me on all levels, including our friendship.  

When your texts came in, my eyes widened and my heart feared the worst – I felt the pangs of pain pulsing through my skin.  You were kind and appreciative of the space I gave you and still wanted to see me to talk about it.  We agreed that our friendship was too important to us to lose – that while we have ultimately only known each other for just under a month, there was a closeness we shared – and it was more than the fact we had slept together a number of times over the course of three nights.

I don’t like how he hurts you – mentally, physically (though you tell me he has never hit you, I am slightly hesitant to believe you).  It isn’t a healthy situation for you or your son and I wish I could provide you both with the proper shelter.  It makes me happy to know you have plenty of friends that can give you the outlet that you so rightfully deserve.

You had had a bad day yesterday and were out with some friends for drinks, you were in a limbo state – not wanting to go home, but not wanting to be out any longer.  I offered to meet you somewhere or for you to come to my apartment.  It was a long shot since we both felt it probably wasn’t all that wise to meet there just yet.  But you took the offer and an hour later you were at my doorstep.  I greeted you with open arms and you fell into them – I could tell it was hard for you, but I merely tightened my embrace.  I could feel your body slightly weaken, but you fought it.

I poured us some wine and we found our way to my couch – opposite ends, quietly acknowledging there was an attraction.  With every small, steady sip of the Malbec you brought us, our legs gradually became intertwined, our bodies inched closer.  You told me about the two nights of drunken Lindsay – and the embarrassment that I felt was more than I wanted to hear.  You insisted you weren’t telling me this to make me feel bad, but to explain how it made you feel.  Learning how it made you feel, was extremely difficult for me to hear – but I needed to hear it.  I thank you for your honesty.  

We talked about him and his actions yesterday.  He called you a failure at life and said you were a horrible mother – in front of your child.  I began to tear up – I can’t imagine the pain and sadness that brings you on a daily basis.  You told me you had begun talking to a lawyer and you were keeping all of his abusive text messages.  You told me of what you wanted out of the divorce and we both agreed there was so much more you could get out of it, but what it came down to, was your son.  It made sense.

The conversation continued on my bed – though at this point, we kept a bit of a distance – we talked about our love of books.  You have read so many that I have always wanted to and vice versa; and then you fell into me.  It felt natural; I wanted to hold you, to let you feel some form of comfort on this terrible day for you.  I was in control of my feelings.  We fell lower and lower onto my bed, it was the next logical move, we rolled on our sides, our faces so close together, I could feel you shivering.  I allowed for my hand to tuck your hair behind your ear – closer we moved, our legs like pretzels.  

“Stop.” You said breathlessly.

My hand immediately pulled back, I released my legs from yours and sat up in my full sized bed.  But you surprised us both and you pulled me back down, we returned to our silent face to face interaction.  The silence hung like fog – thick and somewhat mysterious.

“No.  Don’t stop – come here.”  You said inching even closer to my body.  I swallowed rather audibly.  Our faces pushed in closer - slowly and delicately.  Our lips found one another.  An hour or so later we were still dancing, laughing, quietly whispering to each other – our enjoyment filled my studio apartment with a subtle warmth.  I delivered you pleasure that you had been missing since our last visit.  Nothing brings me greater happiness than to make you feel this way.

I will see you on Thursday at your job – when my skee ball team plays.  Normally you don’t work Thursdays but you picked up another shift.  I told you I would get a substitute to play for me and you were vehemently in opposition of that idea.  You want us to be in the same room and act like the adults that we are.  You have forgiven me for being a child and realize it wasn’t my true nature.  I promise I will not let you down this time – or ever again.  

Our friendship is so very grey at the moment – we both want to be friends, but realize there is an incredible amount of attraction, but neither of us desire to be in a relationship with the other.  I know I cannot rely on you for anything other than friendship and quite frankly I am all right with that prospect.  I do want our friendship to last over the years – we share a bond I truly cannot explain.  We bonded within hours of meeting – I’m not really sure what it was – for you felt it before I did.  But you’ve turned my world around and I kind of like it.

End of the Line

I am done with you.  I’ve tried keeping you in my life, but at a distance.  I am over your self-pity; I am over your inappropriate comments.  And yet, you took a somewhat bizarre move to cut me out – I would say I am upset, but that wouldn’t be the truth.  You crossed a line on Saturday night and I cannot even think of calling you a friend anymore.

I have told you about my previous encounters with certain women; I have told you about my friend and I having shared a few kisses, some with more heat than others.  I never really understood why I told you – maybe it was my desire to talk to someone about it or maybe it was slightly maliciously motivated.  I admit it wasn’t the best of decisions considering your negative mindset and outlook on most everything in the world.

Saturday night I was with Caitlin – we cooked dinner and watched a couple of movies.  We were going to go out afterwards to our one of our favorite watering holes – McKeown’s.  We both knew the likelihood of you being there was rather high, despite the fact you had to work the next day.  When we walked in, we were greeted with the warmth we are accustomed to and there you were at the end of the bar.  Well on your way to getting drunk.  You were reserved, but to me, I felt uncomfortable – I couldn’t stomach looking at you.

I have never been one to judge, but lately, when it comes to you, I see nothing but filth.  You make me cringe.  You are obese, but that’s not the deepest issue I have with you.  It is your lack of regard for those around you, the lack of regard for yourself.  I have grown tired of listening to you wanting to make changes and then reverting to the same behaviors and actions you have done for years.  I am done.

I know I may have been out of line, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t give a shit.  Countless times I have let so much of your inappropriate actions and words slide through the cracks.  I have never made a scene, nor have I ever told you.  It just didn’t seem worth it.  Until now.

My friendship with Caitlin is strengthening by the day and I couldn’t be happier.  She’s the type of person you want in your life – rich and complex, yet so very delicate.  Funny and lighthearted, but supportive and serious.  It’s funny, we both distinctly remember the night we met at Recovery Room – while we were both drunk, the feeling of instant connection was there.  It may have taken awhile for the others to get on board with the liking me train, as a result of you, yes you George.  Because of you I was pre-judged. 

As we stood at the end of the bar and sipped our Hoegaarden’s, we quietly spoke how we wanted to leave and head over to Recovery Room.  Perhaps we weren’t so quiet, but at this point, it’s not really an issue for me.  I said that I couldn’t take it anymore – I was over it.  We agreed to finish our beer and leave.  It wasn’t all that big of a deal, but you made it.

“All right, we’re getting out of here.”  I said to you while Caitlin was in the bathroom.

“You’re sleeping with her aren’t you?” You said with slow, slightly slurred speech.

I wasn’t surprised, but I was.  It was a low blow for even you.  “No.  Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, you're fucking her – just admit it, your relationship with her is deeper than you’re letting on.”

“No.”  I said with conviction.

“See your firmness in reply really means something is going on.”

“No George, nothing is going on.  We’re friends.  We’ve kissed, but it means nothing – ever.  It’s just mindless shit.”  I was fuming. 

Caitlin emerged from the bathroom and was ready to go.  We bundled up and made our way out, I hung back and I decided to be the bigger person, I put my hand on your back and said, “Have a good rest of the night.”  

Looking back, you barely acknowledged it.  

We walked out and headed two blocks down and played some pool with our skee ball teammates.

This morning I felt the need to check my Twitter account – probably because I know your style.  The drunken late night, self-deprecating tweets flood your homepage.  It’s rather tiresome to be honest.  When I logged in, I noticed I had one less follower (I don’t have that many at all).  I figured it was one of the spam followers, but as I scrolled through I realized it was you that I “lost” as a follower.  An interesting measure to take – but if that’s what you need to do, then do it.  I really could care less.  After all, you crossed the line.  Always have, always will.

I have no desire to reach out to see what your deal is; I am sure you will make me out to be the villain in this situation. Perhaps I didn’t use the best judgment in this matter, but I don’t think that excuses any of your actions over the course of the nearly eight years that I have known you.  This chapter in my life is closed.  Lesson learned.