Look, I didn't mean to. Here's what happened: I was at the college Concert Hour where I work as usher/program designer/set-up/break-down person blah-blah-blah and one of the composers who was showcased was this guy who'd scored a film he'd created about a guy who'd committed suicide. So, since Margaret's all I've been able to think about lately (see my last 3 posts), the vid struck a chord.
So I went up to him after the concert and I told him about how a dear friend of mine just committed suicide, too, but that, strangely, his piece gave me some peace, and we got to talking about Church and Star Trek for some reason and our connections just fired like a Tesla coil. He asked me for my number and I gave it to him without a moment's hesitation. Then later, I added him on facebook for a little extra yep-I'm-interested-so-go-ahead-and-call-me hint-hint. And he did call me after his second concert of the day and invited me to a different concert that night that he wasn't in but was going to (Steve Poltz), and I said yes, I'd love to, after choir rehearsal. So he picked me up at the church, we told each other our life stories on the way over to the Belly Up, and we got up close and personal over bacon cheese fries and silly sing-alongs. Was I in heaven? Hell yes I was.
Our souls had mated in a matter of hours and he figured why not seal the deal with hey-can-we-go-back-to-my-place?-I-promise-it-won't-be-a-one-night-stand [after I'd told him earlier in the evening, during our rigorously honest no-subject-barred initial convo in the car that I was waiting to have sex until marriage after the 27-guys-in-2-years debacle]. I thought he meant we'd stay up all night drinking hot cocoa with marshmallows, crying and laughing and cuddling and bonding, but as he bent down to unzip my boot the moment of clarity slapped me on my naïve little ass and I stopped him before he got to do any ass-slapping (or similar-type I'm-a-fucking-liar-and-I-just-wanted-to-fuck-you activities).
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Heyyyyy. No. Uh-uh. We're not having sex, remember? What ever happened to the whole this-won't-be-a-one-night-stand thing?"
"Well...oh." He was speechless and his shoulders and arms dropped as his ego deflated from the inside out. I could almost detect tears in his eyes. "Well...um...I guess...you got the wrong idea...I just meant this wouldn't be a one-night stand...like...this won't be the last time we see each other?" Hurt, pleading puppy dog face.
"Uh-uh. I said I didn't want to have sex 'til marriage. I thought we were gonna, I dunno, talk, and stuff."
Does anybody have a temporary DUMBASS tattoo I can put on my forehead? (Temporary is wishful thinking, I know.)
Well anyway, there that ball went a-rolling. It went, "Okay, I'm sorry, you're right, no sex," to "Well, can we sleep next to each other without our clothes on?" to him trying to have sex with me again, to me telling him about the potential herpes (see #27: The Propane Truck Driver), to him not even caring and trying to have sex with me again, to me saying I really don't like condoms and I don't want to have sex any way, to him still trying to have sex with me, to me telling him I'm not on birth control so we shouldn't, to HIM TRYING TO HAVE SEX WITH ME AGAIN, to me finally just letting it happen, what the fuck, let's get it over with (but out loud I'm like, "Okay, sure, why not"), and he used the pull-out method. Then, more sex that morning, even though I was exhausted and was so not into it. It's not even that the sex itself wasn't good. It had been a long 42 days.
But what bothers me is that I went from NO DATING and NO SEX TIL MARRIAGE (remember the whole "done with men" thing?) to DATING and SEX ON THE FIRST DATE. So it's just my latest "What the hell just happened?" moment.
And yet, despite all this, I'm totally blinded by "what this guy has to offer". By all appearances he's amazing: he's 34 (four years older than I), he's a satellite communications engineer full-time and a film-score-etc.-composer/musician/film creator on the side, he has his own (very nice) place, he's been to 25+ countries (he wants to take me on his next business trip to Canada), he was raised well and just re-joined a Christian church to re-connect with the faith of his upbringing, he runs marathons and goes hiking, he has chickens and a garden and a piano, he's a math/science geek, and he's absolutely brilliant-minded, driven, motivated, exciting, ambitious, tall, bearded, handsome, funny, analytical, and is self-admittedly the kind who falls "fast and hard" and is looking for love.
Nevermind that he doesn't respect my boundaries and he's the prime example of self-will run riot. But, he sure knows what to say. "I don't want to jinx this, but...maybe we've been doing it right all along, just not with the right person?" Hook, line, sinker.
We've got another date for dinner tomorrow night. He wants me to park my car at his house and have us go in his car from there. Gee, what could possibly happen? Stay tuned for more #29 as The Fall of Woman series continues.
But who knows? Maybe THIS time...he is The One?
[Cue audience laughter]
No comments:
Post a Comment