Cut to the Chase, Part II

I generally consider myself a pretty good judge of character, but within the past year, I realized just how wrong I can be about a person.

A year or so ago, I found out that Charles, whom I had been involved with off and on in the past and who had told me repeatedly that he’d want me to be his woman if he worked here, had found himself a girlfriend. I found this out because he posted something on Facebook, which she replied to in a way that definitely implied that they were together. I sent him a message asking about it, but he never replied {but it showed that he had read the message — thank you, Facebook, for that handy feature}.
I sent him another message, angry that he didn’t even respect me enough to respond to my first one. Still no response. So I sent him an angry, final message, saying he wasn’t the man I thought he was. My parting shot was to ask how he’d feel if one day his daughter {who is now only 5 or 6 years old} was treated like this by some guy, stringing her along, calling her baby etc, when she was nothing to him but a convenient screw. He never responded in any way, and I unfriended him and washed my hands of it.

What I forgot was that we are connected on LinkedIn. I’m not very active on there, so it had slipped my mind. A day or two ago, I got an e-mail from LinkedIn with update notifications about various people in my connections, including one for Charles, saying he was celebrating three years at his current job, which happens to be about 45 minutes from where I live. THREE YEARS. Which means that he found a job back here while he was still involved with me, yet continued the charade of saying he was working out of state, contacting me every few months or so, etc as if he happened to be in town visiting his kids.

I feel like such an incredible chump for buying it for so long, and for actually believing there might possibly be a future with this dirtbag. I truly thought he was different, that he was genuine and sincere. I’m disgusted with the way he strung me along, pretending to care for me and getting me emotionally invested in his life and his problems. I considered responding to the LinkedIn message {you can reply kind of like on someone’s Facebook wall} but there’s no point. He’s not worth another second of my time or energy, and I’ve got someone a million times better than he could ever hope {or pretend} to be.

I’m sure he’ll have the nerve to act surprised and angry if/when some guy treats his little princess like a piece of ass someday. But in reality, all she will have done is find a so-called man just like her daddy. Karma’s a bitch, buddy.


My Funny Valentine

I want to start with a disclaimer: If you’re anti-Valentine’s Day or just totally over all the mushy-gushy stuff, you might want to stop reading. No, really. This was, hands down, the best Valentine’s Day I ever had, all thanks to my wonderful, silly, romantic man. I’ve never truly had a valentine before. Yeah, I was married, and I’ve had boyfriends on Valentine’s Day in the past, but it was never the romantic holiday I always hoped it would be… Until now.

We had the whole weekend planned out. Rico would come up Friday after work and we’d go to a birthday dinner for a close family friend of his. Then Saturday, we’d cook dinner together at my place rather than deal with the madness of trying to get a table at a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. Then, on Sunday, we planned to go for Mongolian bbq {one of our favorite spots} for lunch before he had to head home. Simple enough, right?

I was very distracted and flustered in the week leading up to our big weekend. I had decided to make him a scrapbook {something he really likes and appreciates} filled with pictures, movie and song quotes, and text boxes I created telling him how I felt about him. I had things like, “The first time you kissed me, I felt_______________.” I also had my daughter take a couple of really cool pics of me in my hat and claw hand from my Halloween costume {Freddy Krueger}, so I could put them in there.
I was really excited to give it to him and worked on it feverishly every night after work to make sure it was done before he got there. I had taken that Friday off and planned to get all the last-minute stuff done that day — cleaning, washing my linens, getting my nails done, wrapping his gifts, etc. Little did I know…

On Thursday after work, I headed home as usual and got comfy in my room. I had the scrapbook in front of me and my bed was covered with scraps of paper and pictures. I had a page and a half left to go before it was done. I was on the phone with him as I worked, and he said he was out doing some running around and that when he reached his final destination, he was staying in for the night. Maybe an hour later, he said he had reached his final destination and playfully said, “Why don’t you come open up the door for me?” I thought he had arrived at his house, and playfully said, “Ok, hehe, be right there…” and kept working on the scrapbook. He made a few similar comments, then finally said, “Are you gonna come open the door?” I froze, scissors in my hand, and said, “What are you talking about?” He hadn’t arrived at his own house but at MINE. I panicked, looking around the room at the mess, the unwrapped gifts, the clothes everywhere…I wasn’t ready! I quickly threw on a pair of jeans and ran downstairs where he was waiting. I threw open the door and jumped into his arms while he laughed at me for not realizing what he had been up to. I couldn’t believe he was here a whole day early and I’d had no clue! I made him wait a minute while I hid everything as fast as I could. We went out and grabbed some Chinese food, then I locked myself in my room for a few minutes to finish the last page of the scrapbook. He had made me a big heart-shaped chocolate chip cookie and used frosting to write my name on it. He had also burned a CD of romantic music for us to slow dance to.

The next morning, after allowing ourselves to be lazy getting up, we exchanged presents. In addition to the scrapbook, I had also bought him a red bundt cake pan and a basting set {his ex had taken his when they’d split up and he was really wanting new ones}, which he was really excited about. He gave me an amazing card that he had made and written himself, a box of candy, a beautiful bible with a case for it, and an Android tablet, which blew me away. He was so cute about all of it, smiling and chuckling as I oohed and aahed over everything. Instead of all my planned cleaning etc, we had a great day together. I took him to lunch at one of my favorite spots, then we went for ice cream at a little place where we had gone when we first started dating. That night, we got all dressed up {I had found an amazing dress to wear} and went to the birthday dinner, which was a lot of fun. I felt sexy and was proud to walk in on his arm. His godsister {the birthday girl} was really cool, and we promised to get together soon.

Saturday {Valentine’s Day} was also my niece’s birthday, so we decided to stop by my parents’ house before going on with the rest of our day. Rico went downstairs to warm up my car, then shoveled my driveway while I finished getting ready. When we got to my parents’ house, he and I shoveled their driveway as well {his idea}. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the fact that he did that. Just always thinking of other people and helping out when he can. But I digress… The weather was terrible — white-out conditions all the way there, so we ended up staying for a few hours til it cleared up. Rico finally got to meet my brother and sister-in-law, and we had a really good time hanging out with my family, having lunch and birthday cake, before heading on our way.

Rico cooked an amazing dinner of tarragon chicken and vegetables while I made a brown sugar pound cake. I decided to treat it like a date and put on my little black dress for dinner. We ate and drank and laughed and kissed and fooled around and had a great time. It was a wonderful night, staying warm inside while winter raged outside.

Sunday, we did go to Mongolian bbq as planned and had a great lunch before he left to head home. The weekend ended waaaaay too soon, but it was wonderful, and it was the best Valentine’s Day
I ever had. I’m truly in love with this man and still can’t believe how blessed I am to have him in
my life.

This Christmas

It’s crazy how much can change in the space of one year.

This time last year, I was involved with Michael, looking forward to him flying up on the 26th and ringing in the new year together. One bout of pneumonia, two bouts of bronchitis, two attempted breakups, one successful breakup, a bit more personal and emotional growth, one fateful Halloween party, and one amazing man later, and here I am — MUCH happier, much more at peace, and much more content, plain and simple.

I learned to truly listen to my gut, which I had kind of tuned out for a year and a half. I regained my self-respect, and I decided, once and for all, to stop putting up with shit from people. When I was finally able to step out of my situation and see that it wasn’t working, that I was being played, and that I deserved much better, it was liberating. I became my own hero, rescuing myself from yet another dead-end relationship, and having the wisdom and nerve to walk away from a toxic situation. Initially, Michael tried to get in touch with me a few times. He left a couple of long voicemails saying he didn’t like where we were {sorry, sweetheart, there is no we anymore} and that he hoped there was some chance that we could get back to the way we used to be. I’m sorry, what way is that? The way I blindly accepted your bullshit? Or the way I let things slide even though I knew you weren’t being honest with me? Or maybe it was the way I kept taking you back, even though my gut was screaming at me to cut my losses and run in the opposite direction. His last voicemail was the day after Thanksgiving. He had texted me a random Thanksgiving meme, and apparently I was supposed to go weak in the knees and come running back. His message said he had hoped I would have called him on Thanksgiving. Honestly, I was thankful not to still be dealing with that clown.

I haven’t spoken to him in more than a month. I blocked his number on my phone so that his calls {there have been a few, but not in the past couple of weeks} would go straight to voicemail. I’m hopeful that he has finally gotten the message through his thick head and will leave me alone. It’s a blessing, actually, that he lives so far away because the chances of him showing up on my doorstep are slim to none, especially since he now has custody of his kids.

I’m looking forward to this Christmas with childlike anticipation, not because of presents, but because I’ve found someone who makes me happy in such a simple, good way. It’s not about money spent, but rather the time spent together, the joy of seeing each other, and the happiness of just being with someone I fit with so well. A couple of weeks ago, Rico came up for the weekend and we had so much fun. He actually met my parents, who both really liked him {I wasn’t surprised}. This feels more real every day. We spent the weekend cooking together, watching movies, introducing him to my favorite pizza place, people watching, looking at Christmas lights and displays, holding hands, and just enjoying each other.  I think, that’s what it really boils down to. We’re living out loud, in the moment, happy with each other and excited to see where this goes.

Finding Him

Last year, I wrote a post describing my perfect man. Since then, I’d have to say I’ve added a few more items to the wish list.

For instance, he’d have no problem telling people he’s involved with me. He’d be honest and not give me cause to question things he says. And he’d actually keep his word, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

Ironically, one year and one day after writing that post, I think I’ve actually met him. Rico, whom I met at a Halloween party last month, has exceeded any expecations I’ve allowed myself to have of late. We’ve talked every day {multiple times a day} since meeting a little over a month ago. I’ve gone down to see him once, and he’s coming up this weekend for his second visit. We’ve already made plans to spend New Year’s Eve together, and we seem to grow closer every day.

His kisses curl my toes and I smile every time his name appears on my phone. His deep voice is enticing, and it feels just right when I rest my head against his chest. He’s funny and sweet and so much like my carefully thought-out description from a year ago that it’s almost like I conjured him out of my blog and into existence. He’s kind of the anti-Michael, and such a refreshing change from what I’ve tolerated for the last year and a half. And from what he’s said about his last couple of relationships, I’m a much-welcome change from what he’s tolerated as well. My friend Ace apparently had it right with this one. We get along so well and laugh all the time. Rico is the perfect combination of sexy, sweet, sensitive, and silly. He very willingly posts pictures of us together on Facebook, has told his close friends and family members about me {and I’ve met some of them}, and keeps his word. I genuinely trust him, which doesn’t come easily for me. We fit.

I know the relationship is ridiculously new, but he has already made me happier than I’ve been in quite a while where romance is concerned. I think we’re off to a very promising start!

Cut to the Chase, Part I

This scene from My Best Friend’s Wedding is on my mind today. More and more in recent years, I have found myself being the chaser, rarely the chasee {or, if I was, the chaser was less than desirable and I was likely to keep running indefinitely}. Something happened last night that was both unexpected and yet somewhat predictable, and I don’t know what to do with the way I feel about it.

Charles is someone I met online a few years ago. I really liked him right off the bat and could see a future with him under different circumstances. He’s a family man, seems to really have his act together. Cares more about spending quality time with his family than going out and partying. He was a refreshing change to most of the guys I had met {and have met since}.

He lives here but works out of state, coming back and forth whenever his schedule allows. He didn’t look me up every time he was home, but did on occasion. I always wanted more from him but was somewhat content with what we did have. Even though I’ve gone on plenty of dates with other guys and have even gotten at least a little serious with a couple of them, part of me still held out hope that somehow things would work out with Charles. We’ve kept in touch, seeing each other very sporadically, but his genuine care and concern kept me from letting him go. Without ever meaning to, I began to love him. I subconsciously compared other guys to him, and they usually came up short.

Sometime last year, I found out he had serious heart problems. I can’t say I was surprised. He was under a huge amount of stress, working full time out of state and regularly driving back and forth eight hours each way to be there as the head of his family. His kids are here, as is his grandmother, who is in poor health. I was genuinely concerned for him, telling him more than once that he couldn’t continue like this. He was slowly driving himself into the ground in an effort to be there for everyone else.

Around Christmas, he told me he’d had quintuple {!!} bypass surgery on his heart and was in town recovering at his sister’s house. I was glad he’d had the surgery but it was still scary to think of him going right back into the same situation that got him there in the first place. It bothered me that he only just got around to telling me after who knows how many weeks here. Granted, he was recovering from serious heart surgery, but if I meant anything to him at all {other than a friend with benefits, which I strongly suspected was the case}, he would have contacted me much sooner.

Late last week, he said he’d be going back to work soon and wanted to see me. He didn’t say when, and I didn’t ask. After feeling like I’d been chasing him for the better part of our ‘relationship,’ I figured that if he really wanted to see me, he’d make it happen.

Earlier today, we were texting about Mardi Gras, and he asked if I’d ever been to New Orleans. I said that yes, I had been there twice and would love to go back because it’s such an amazing city. His response was that I should find us a nice hotel room and we should go. I was utterly speechless. Was he saying I was more than just a friend? You don’t just invite a woman to go on vacation unless she means something, do you? My mind was reeling. Finally, I said, “You really want to go on vacation with me?” He replied, “Why not?” {A confident ‘yes’ would have been nice, but whatever.} I decided to put it out there. I said that I had thought I was nothing more to him than a friend with benefits. He didn’t respond for an hour or more, so I said, “Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” to which he quickly replied that yes, I was reading too much into it. Then he said, “We can even get separate beds if you want. I just want to go on a real vacation.” I felt like he had punched me in the stomach.

We’ve really shared some emotional times, like more than once when he was on the verge of tears over missing his kids, like when he was genuinely concerned for me at times when I was sick. On more than one occasion, his kids were there when I came over to see him. I thought that meant something, somehow. He has told me more than once that if he was working here, he’d want me to be his woman. But I guess all I am is a convenience to him. I’ve found myself in this position before…realizing I’m nothing more than someone to pass the time with. Why is that? Because I’m a nice person? Because I foolishly allow myself to become emotionally invested in people?

I think, where Charles is concerned, the blinders have finally come off. I’m forced to see things for what they are, and it hurts. I guess I’ve known all along there was a strong possibility that nothing long-term would ever come of this relationship, but I can’t help feeling like we might have been good for each other as more than FWB. I’ll never know. I can be his friend, but I won’t ever allow myself to drift back into that gray ‘benefits’ category. As much as I enjoyed spending time with Charles, I need to have enough respect for myself not to be convenient to him anymore.

On the bright side, something else is brewing that could {possibly} make this a moot point. When Charles first mentioned the vacation, I knew that had he brought this up a year or two ago, I probably would have jumped through hoops to make it happen. Now, I’m not so delusional, and I realize the grass is not really greener on his side of the fence. Stay tuned.

Cuffing Season?

Looking back at my last few posts, I guess I’m overdue for a progress report. I’m still talking to Michael, and after some very intense conversations, I feel like we’re in a better place. I feel like he’s understanding my insecurities in general and I’m understanding his. He has since unhidden his friends list, which helped. It wasn’t so much that I had this burning need to see who he’s friends with. I just really have a hard time with secretive people, and me wanting him to unblock his friends list was more a matter of principle. If he was really serious about wanting a future with me he’d unblock it, and he did {I didn’t put it quite that way. I’m NOT one for ultimatums}.

We still talk every day and he’s talking about coming to visit again in the next month or so. I’d say things are going better. I think we both have emotional baggage we’re dealing with. When we first started talking, he said he was suspicious of my motives because he couldn’t figure out why a woman as attractive as me {his words} would be interested in him. We’re working through some things and I’m hopeful.

With that said, I’m suddenly finding myself getting attention from every direction and it’s so foreign to me. I’ve never been the girl with the guys chasing her, but now I’m hearing about this guy or that guy who’s interested in me. Huh. As far as I can tell, I’m still the same person. I don’t know what’s changed that’s got guys noticing me.

First, there’s Joe, who I had kind of a FWB relationship for a while. He’s probably the best cuddler I’ve ever known. He’s about 6’5 and his hands are as big as my feet {which are not little or dainty}. Joe makes me feel small and safe in his arms. Romantically there wasn’t much there, though. We fooled around a few times, but sexually I wasn’t really into him. For one thing, he referred to his package as his “li’l wee-wee” several times. I finally told him to stop it. I told him that’s not sexy. He’s not small {more like average} but I don’t know any woman who would be turned on by a guy calling his dick a wee-wee. Anyway, I haven’t seen Joe in maybe a year or so, but lately he keeps poking me on Facebook and texting me from time to time. Maybe he’s lonely, I don’t know.

Then there’s Finch, who messages me every other week or so, saying he dropped the ball and hopes I’m single soon {I had told him I’m talking to someone} so he can have another chance. I suppose I might be flattered if I didn’t know that he messages me after each failed attempt at a relationship with someone else. I see him posting on Facebook regularly, looking for women and referring to himself as a handsome chocolate teddy bear, just in time for winter cuddling. I don’t know if he thinks I don’t see those posts or what. I told him I can’t offer him anything more than friendship but he still persists.

Next there’s Freddy, who I talked to for a while and had a couple of meh dates with. He also knows I’ve been talking to someone but messages me every few weeks, I guess to remind me that he’s still there. There was no chemistry at all when we went out, and he had a weird habit of staring at my elbow while he was talking to me. At least, I think that’s what he was looking at.

Another one is Calvin, whom I met a year ago at my friend Keisha’s house on Thanksgiving. He’s a friend of her uncle’s who happened to be there. They were all playing Pokeno, which I had never played, so he was coaching me. Nothing at all happened with him, other than playing cards and laughing a lot, right along with everyone else. Well yesterday, when I was at her house on Thanksgiving, Keisha’s uncle told me Calvin was down in Louisiana with a bad attitude. I asked why, and he said, “Because he knows you’re here and he’s not.” I was really surprised. A whole year had passed since I had seen Calvin, and like I said, our interaction was nowhere near romantic in nature. But Keisha’s uncle said Calvin sure remembered me, and was not happy that he wasn’t able to make it home {he’s a truck driver}.

And finally, there’s Nate. If anyone is a temptation, it’s him. We became friends on Facebook within the last couple of months or so. He’s seriously good looking and we’ve had a few good chat conversations online {some flirtatious, some not}. He lives much closer than Michael does and told me he’s recently single and would love to meet me. Of course, REBOUND was the first word that popped into my mind when he said that, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a tiny bit interested in meeting him face to face. I was good and told him I’m talking to someone, but damn. He definitely caught my attention. That’s all I have to say about that one {for now, anyway}.

I suppose this all might come off sounding conceited or vain. But on the contrary, I don’t get it. I’m actually perplexed by it. I’m not overly flirtatious. I don’t wear clothes that show all my business. I don’t hop in the sack with every guy who smiles at me. I’m friendly…I pay attention when people speak to me…I’m generally kindhearted and I love to laugh. Maybe it’s just that Christmas is coming and people get sentimental when they don’t have a special someone. Maybe they’re just looking for someone to fool around with. Who knows? But I’m definitely not used to the attention, and I’m humbled by it for sure.

On this day after Thanksgiving, I’m grateful that I’m in a place emotionally and mentally where I can be selective about who I spend time with. I’m ok with spending an evening on my own and don’t feel the need to constantly find some random guy to validate me or to stroke my ego {or to stroke my…*ahem* never mind}. I’m grateful to have a good head on my shoulders and friends I can count on. The past few years have been quite a ride, but I see myself evolving, and I gotta say, I kinda like who I’m becoming.

Out, Damned Spot!

It’s been a while since I thought of him. I suppose I went through the stages of break up, not necessarily in the correct order: anger, sadness, more anger, apathy, rebound sex, acceptance. I admit, I truly thought things would be different with him. Despite our near-constant bickering, there seemed to be something underneath that held us together — chemistry, amazing make-up sex, or some kind of shared brokenness that we both understood.

When we split up, it was kind of a relief. Being with him had stopped bringing me much joy and I had stopped smiling when his name popped up on my phone. Sex had become less about physical love and more about his own enjoyment and release. I lost count of how many times I was left unsatisfied while he seemed blissfully oblivious. His carefully chosen words in his last few texts were like poison darts, hitting each mark and digging in under my skin like little barbs. But I never responded. As much as it stung to read those words and to know he was deliberately trying to hurt me, I knew my silence would hurt him just as much.

Occasionally, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and momentarily forget that we haven’t spoken since Valentine’s Day. When the new Thor movie came out {swoon} I felt a little melancholy because we’d both enjoyed watching all of the Marvel movies together. I knew he’d probably be going to see it as well, and I wondered if seeing that movie or the new trailer for Captain America made him think of me.

Sometimes I do wonder if he’s written me completely out of his memory banks or if I ever cross his mind at all anymore.

But I do know that thinking of him at all feels unwelcome, as if he snuck in and whispered hello in my ear before dashing away. His presence is not welcome in my thoughts anymore, and it annoys me that he still has a place there at all. In a way, I feel the same about any reminiscing about my ex-husband. There were some good times earlier on in our marriage, but as the years wore on, I felt like my face was becoming the way Bill Cosby described his wife’s face after they had children, saying that the corners of her mouth had drawn down into a permanent frown.

Only it was my marriage causing that face, not my child. I frowned for way too many years during my marriage, and I felt myself becoming much the same way in this relationship. It had stopped bringing me any kind of joy and it had to go.

So why, if this relationship made me miserable, would I waste a single thought on this man-child? No, I don’t want him back. And if he were to come looking for another chance, he wouldn’t get it. Maybe because, as with my marriage, I was deeply hurt by someone I never would have thought would hurt me. I guess, like anything, it takes time to heal — especially with emotional scars. It takes time for those thoughts to fade and find their proper place in my distant memory. Until then, I’ll mentally scrub and scrub like Lady MacBeth in hopes that one day they’ll finally be gone.

Falling for Him

It’s my favorite time of year, when the air is crisp, the leaves are gorgeous, my sweaters seem snugglier, and hot cocoa is never more than a whistling tea kettle away.

It’s also the time of year when I feel myself yearning more than usual. Wishing for someone to snuggle on the couch and watch football with, someone whose hand fits perfectly with mine.

Some women have a very specific list of what their ideal man must be: salary in six figures {or at least high five figures}, nice car, certain height, certain hair color, etc. I admit, I do have a list, but who he is to me is much more than what he earns or drives.

He’s taller than me and likes to laugh. He works hard for his money and wouldn’t mind that I’m a goof. He’d like my cooking and wouldn’t mind fixing things for me — hammering a nail, changing a lightbulb, working with his hands…

He’d hold the door for me and his kisses would make my knees weak. He’d slow dance with me and hold my hand when we’d go walking. My birthday could be as simple as a list of reasons why he loves me, or as romantic as a room full of candles and soft jazz.

He’d look at me like I’m the only woman in the room and his arms would feel just right around me {hugging me from behind would be a bonus}. He’d call me baby and want to know how my day went. He’d like snuggling on the couch together watching movies and he’d playfully pull me back into bed if I got up too early.

He’s the one I’d grow old with, sit on a porch swing with, and laugh over the same old stories with.

I’ve seen glimpses of him in some of the guys I’ve known and dated, and many times I’ve wished I could take all of their best features and make the perfect guy. I’d combine Eric’s gorgeous body, Winston’s bedroom skills, Charles’ tenderness and amazing kisses, the intelligence and sense of humor of Ace {a very good friend of mine}, Ben’s strong arms that felt so right wrapped around me, and of course Sonny’s sweetness and beautiful heart.

Who knows, maybe I’ve already met him or seen him. Or maybe he knows someone I know. The romantic in me will keep looking.

Mrs. Robinson Strikes Back

Things have been fairly quiet on the dating front of late. I’ve been out with two or three guys, but nothing much to talk about. One guy was very skilled at taking pics of himself in such a way that you’d never know how round he was. Imagine kind of a human light bulb. Combine that with the fact that he wore man Spanx {or Under Armour? Some kind of containment device that was in constant danger of failing catastrophically} and smelled very much like he just lost all control of his bladder, and it was just too much for this girl to deal with. Ain’t NOBODY got time for that! Another guy was very sweet and charming one-on-one, but in public {or, at least, in Facebook land} he was vulgar, rude, and downright adolescent. Ain’t nobody got time for that, either.

So I was kind of in dating limbo, when Stacy suggested that I contact this guy from one of the groups we’re both in on Facebook. I checked out his profile and he seemed decent enough and kind of cute, so I took a chance and got in touch with him. We started chatting and seemed to be getting along pretty well, but then he casually said that he was 28. 28?? {brakes screeching}

That didn’t end so well last time, so of course I was hesitant to continue. He insisted that age meant nothing and he really wanted to meet me. I finally agreed and we met for dinner later that week. He was sweet, funny, and easy to talk to. He had an odd way of eating tortilla chips with two hands, but otherwise he was pretty normal.

We went for a walk after dinner and did a little smooching. It was nice and simple… just what I needed. He worked kind of crazy hours, but he made a point to try to see me whenever he could, which was refreshing. He was very attentive, texting every day and calling almost every night. I mentioned his age to Stacy, and we started referring to him as Finch {as in the guy with a thing for Stifler’s mom in American Pie}.

Stifler's mom has got it goin' on

Stifler’s mom has got it goin’ on

After we had been talking for two or three weeks, he called me one night and said he was on his way to the hospital to see a friend who had just been in a car accident. He ended up staying in the ER with this person until well past midnight. I found out later that the friend was female. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that but I let it go. A few days later, he said he was on his way to meet a friend who had asked him to help “them” go shopping for a new car. I immediately knew it was a female friend. Otherwise, why not just say he was going with one of his buddies? I didn’t immediately say anything about it, until he called back after he was done car shopping. He said, “I hope I don’t regret what I did today.” I jokingly asked if he had bought a car. He said no, but he had financed his friend’s car. What the hell? I don’t know about you, but I don’t think any of my friends would consider financing a car for me, no matter how close we are.

I said that I knew he was talking about a female and told him that after he spent the wee hours in the ER with this girl {it was the same one, by the way} and now financing her car, I couldn’t help but wonder where I could possibly fit into the equation. He insisted that they were just friends, nothing more. Hmmmm…now where had I heard that before? He also said that if I had a problem with this friendship, then he guessed we’d go our separate ways. Umm…what? He’s supposedly so interested in me, but if I’m not comfortable with his involvement with this girl, I’m the one who gets kicked to the curb?? Needless to say, I saw it as the beginning of the end for Finch. We did talk later, and cleared the air a bit, but I was still apprehensive about the whole thing.

At this point, we’d been talking and sort of seeing each other for about a month. Nothing beyond some making out had ever occurred, mostly because we hadn’t had any real privacy yet. He had gone to first base a couple of times, so I was under the assumption that he’d welcome some actual fooling around. One weekend, I knew my daughter would be with her dad, so I asked Finch if he wanted to come over. I said I would fix supper and we could watch movies. Sounded like a nice evening in, right? We watched two movies, and other than a little making out on the couch, nothing happened. I had asked if he wanted to stay over, and he said he couldn’t because he had to run errands for his elderly mother in the morning. It sounded like a lame excuse to me. After all, what errands could he possibly have that would be hampered by him staying at my place? But I let it go.

It was getting late, and we were both getting tired. I asked if he wanted to lie down, and he said he was fine on the couch, then quickly said we could go lie down if I wanted to. So I got up and walked into the bedroom, and he followed me. We laid down on the bed and at first nothing happened. I kissed him, and then we started making out. Long story short, there was a handy J {not to completion}, and he gave me a handy J {to completion but only semi-satisfying}. Oh, and after he was done, he wiped his hand on my leg. Yes, really. What the hell is THAT about?? Shortly after, he said he had to go, and began getting dressed. I felt like some horny old broad, throwing myself at him. It wasn’t quite like that, but I initiated everything that happened that night, and he hardly seemed into it. Not great for the old ego, you know?

The next day when he called, I knew I was basically done. I said it really hadn’t seemed like we were on the same page the night before. He claimed that it had only been a few months since his last relationship and that I was the first girl he’d fooled around with since then. I later spoke to my friend Ace about the whole incident, to get a guy’s perspective. Ace said that if he was on the bed, going to 2nd, he was sure as hell rounding 3rd and heading for home, whether he had to leave or not. Stacy asked if Finch was a virgin when I told her about it. I would assume he’s not, since his last relationship had lasted for several years, but what do I know?

He continued texting here and there, mostly making small talk, for a week or two, and I didn’t see the point of continuing with it. When I said I had given it a lot of thought and really didn’t think we were right for each other, he didn’t seem terribly upset. He said he’d like it if we could stay friends. Fine, whatever. Now run along and play, little Finchie. Mrs. Robinson is going to stick to boys her own age from now on.