Sometimes you can just tell that it’s not going to go anywhere. Then again, sometimes you’re okay with that.
He looked like he was going to be FUN. I messaged first. We exchanged some sarcasm and I put him on the back burner without much thought. He later shared that this made him even more interested in me. He asks for my number and we start texting.
I could tell pretty soon that this guy didn’t know what he wanted. When he responded that it had been “one year and one month” since his divorce, I knew it was something he still hadn’t fully gotten over. I also picked up on some covert mommy issues. Sometimes my clinical insight is a curse.
He was a little too quick to call me pet names and tell me how much he liked me. Of course, my natural reaction is to bring a healthy dose of realism to the convo because his imagination is obviously working overtime. When he finds out that I pretty much live down the road, his imagination started a long term relationship with me. He got way too excited, telling me that I’m close enough that he could come kill a spider for me, that he could “swing by if we hadn’t seen each other that day,” and offered to help me with the various around the house projects I am working on.
One night, after a bottle and a half of wine, my innocence went out the window. This guy is itching to send me a DP. He’s obviously pretty proud of it. I tell him to wait, but that doesn’t stop us from exchanging some pretty racy messages, which continued through the next day and then he asked me out. I tell him I can’t. He tells me his dad is coming to visit that weekend so he won’t be available until Sunday. I respond and tell him that the only day that would even remotely work for me was Friday night after a gala that I was attending. Suddenly, Friday opened up for him.
He texts me all day Friday, telling me how excited he is to be able to take me out. I tell him I’d let him know what the definitive plan would be later in the evening. If he only knew that I had no intention of us ever going out…
He texts me and asks me how the evening is going. I let him know that I’ve had quite a few drinks. He gets concerned that I won’t want to spend time with him. I assure him this is not the case. I let him know when I am headed home and he tells me that he is getting ready. When I get close to home I tell him that I don’t feel like going out and invite him over instead. I pass out on the couch and wake up to my phone ringing because this guy’s GPS ended him short of my house.
The doorbell rings. I make my way in 5 inch stilettos to greet him. He’s cute. I see his chest tattoo peeking through his buttoned down shirt and I know what’s going down. We sit on the couch and start talking. I let him know that I’m not in the mood for talking. He asks for a tour of my house so I show him my bedroom and we stay there.
I try to make him feel a little less used by giving him a back massage and letting him talk about God knows what as I give the impression that I’m listening when in actuality all of my energy is focused on trying to stay awake. I walk him to the door and say goodnight.
This was so far from something I would’ve normally done, but it was also exhilarating and in my opinion, much deserved. In the end, we both got what we wanted without all the mess.