Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Okay, I have to use the word “girlfriend” at this point. It’s been well over 90 days, and she’s still around and still at the center of my off parent time. And… Well… It’s kind of hard to say, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
What I know is… She is my first relationship post divorce. Those other things were blips.
She matches me in so many ways (love of music, sleeping patterns, creative ambition, ability to nap and rest rather than strive) that I think I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong.
Here’s what happened. She came right out and said it on our introductory drink. “You are much cuter than your profile!”
I’m sure I paused at that. [Was this woman just forward? Was she a desperate? What was wrong with her, couldn’t she see how fucked up I was at that very moment?]
And I walked her out to her car. An awkward moment, to be sure. And there, next to her cute convertible mini, she leaned in for what could only be a signal for “kiss me.” And I stepped up to the plate and planted a good kiss on her. Grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her even closer. Even as I was freaking out, “What the fuck? Am I insane? Oh to hell with it!”
And I walked back to my car, in a bit of a daze. Erect and ready, sure, but also confused.
And then on came the relationship. She was “into me” she said it frequently and without shame. I know she was asking for the same response from me. But I was too busy trying to examine my own WTF response to her mere presence in my life.
So on she came. Like a force, like a drug. And on she came, asking deep questions, stroking me with every opportunity, and singing my praises.
At the same time I was a little off balance, she was the definition of what I was asking for just a few months ago. (Yoga Girl Next Door)
A few nights ago, returning from a trip, I was bushed and just wanted to sleep. She wanted satisfaction. She missed me. She hungered for me. When she woke up my desire I screwed her like I really remembered screwing. Passion. Energy. And stamina.
The headboard of her bed banging against the wall.
And for the last few days, I’ve been the On Parent again, and my stomach muscles have been telling me, cheering me, about my prowess. Damn!
So am I jumping into the next phase because of the extraordinary stress in my family situation right now? Am I stealing the bootie by sexing and caressing and sleeping with someone who… how can I say it… who is not my erotic ideal? And really, what does that mean?
The only thing I can grasp on to: This is still an early relationship. There is no need to jump further into things. We are three months into things. I don’t have to marry her and settle down next week. So I am observing, with curiosity, my attraction to other women. Sure: younger, skinnier, darker hair, darker skin. But those physical things are NOTHING compared to the ADORATION.
I know the ADORE has to go both ways. Is that what’s growing within me? Am I growing to adore her, or just getting more comfortable in the relationship? I know there is tension in the place where she is CRUSHING and I am not. But that should not be a problem if we stay open and honest.
That’s the trick. That will be the trick. I meet an attractive ideal, and I want to… what? Kiss? Date? Go to lunch? At what point do I have to tell her, “I’m still kinda looking.” A sad moment that will be.
Until that point, or the point at which I succumb to her charms and beauty, I will be aware of what is going on inside of me, and try to sort out what is real and what is fantasy. She is certainly REAL. She is certainly WARM and TOUCHY-FEELY.
And I could go on about her great qualities. Solid. Financially stable. Beautiful eyes.
I sound like I’m still trying to convince myself.
The Off Parent
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