The past several months have been some of the most fun of my entire life. I mean it’s been a combination of How Stella Got Her Groove Back, Exhale and Sex & The City (The first one, not that awful sequel) all rolled into one. I’ve had dates, I’ve made friends, I’ve made Friends with Benefits, I’ve gone on trips, I’ve flirted my evalovin’ ass off and I’ve had lots and lots of kisses (aka sex). It’s been my official first social season as a middle-aged divorcee where I’ve put myself out there and gone fishing in the big ole pond of available bachelors.
You can go back into the blog over the past few months and see the men that helped me get my groove back. Most were fantastic, a few were amazing, one I will forever miss (talkin’ bout you, Chef), and then there were some that never made it to the blog. Either it just wasn’t a story I wanted to share on the blog because I wanted to keep it for myself or it was an experiment I wanted to see how it played out before I shared the results.
One such experiment just ended recently. It was a true FWB with no feelings attached. What he and I had was strictly physical and nothing else. Well, I take that back…there was mutual respect and an attraction to the other person, but we agreed early on if we tried to go for any more than hooking up once every couple of weeks, we would probably end up killing each other. But I’m glad I tried that on for size to see what it was about. I can see the appeal – it’s a way to scratch an itch, but it’s not a long-lasting itch relief. It’s kind of like the cheap itch cream you get at the dollar store, it works for a minute, but then wears off quickly. He and I remain good friends, always there for a platonic hug in a parking lot if a bad day or a need arises. Nothing more though.
I’ve had a few productive dating app dates that progressed into more. One is someone that I call The Cowboy. I’m really glad I met him because he embodied all the character traits of my ex husband that I fell in love with in my twenties. Those traits are probably what attracted me to him when we first met and why I cried when our time was over, but when he left it gave me a chance to say goodbye to what might have been with my ex husband and get the closure I have been searching for, for over two years. He was a life lesson that I’m glad I got to experience and don’t regret in the least. We helped each other during that brief interlude. He needed something that I had and I needed something he had. He provided me with a way to say goodbye to a huge part of my life. So thank you, Cowboy.
There have been a couple close calls of dates I cancelled before they ever materialized. I either got a bad feeling about the situation or they said something that made me have second thoughts. One man said something in a text that got me so enraged I had to throat punch him in a text back, (Not a real throat punch…no douchebags were harmed) and then blocked him. Then there have been dates where there simply wasn’t a physical attraction but a friendship was made and I’m really glad I went on those too. Those are connections, great conversation, a shared interest or a fun time that I enjoyed and don’t regret at all.
Then in early December I matched with a man who looks a little like Keanu Reeves. We matched on a dating app and chatted for a couple of weeks before even talking about meeting in real life. Should I call him Keanu? I haven’t even thought about naming him something for the blog because I didn’t intend on writing about him. But over the last month or so, we’ve developed a really fun friendship. We’ve seen each other several times and we talk or chat every single day. He is funny and sexy, he has the same warped sense of humor that I do and we find ourselves observing the world and the people in it in an almost identical way. So often we will text one another something that the other was just beginning to type. Or we will have a thought at the same time, or find the same random thing hilarious that align with our combined eclectic movie references or musical tastes. It’s like he’s the male version of me, and I’m the female version of him.
After the first time we met I set a referendum on feelings. There was such chemistry that I told him we couldn’t talk feelings for two weeks. My fear was that after two weeks I would have moved onto the next conquest and forget all about him, leaving him confused and hurt. So no feelings talk. No, Siree. This was a no feelings zone. Not a single word about feelings or liking each other could be uttered.
Until they were. We made it two days shy of two weeks before we had a brief conversation about feelings. We both felt them.
Why couldn’t he have come along six months from now when my wild oats were well sowed? I still don’t know what we have, exactly. I just know we’re enjoying the hell out of the ride together. I don’t know when last I’ve laughed so hard, had more fun, been so comfortable with someone and the sex….my goodness. I’ve never been so utterly and completely ravished. Seriously, y’all it’s the best I’ve ever experienced and that’s saying something. (No offense to anyone who might be reading….I really need to stop telling men I date about the blog.)
One of the great things about Keanu (official name change approved) is that I can tell him exactly where I am in this dating thing and he will tell me if it’s cool with him or not. So far he’s cool with everything. We have freedom with one another because there is already a trust there. I really hope I don’t push the envelope with him too far that he becomes another casualty and decides this isn’t working for him. I really want to continue enjoying the ride with him and see where it takes us.
I’m also scared about being in another relationship. Even the word gives me the vapors. It makes me itchy and want to go run far, far away. I also don’t want to miss out on an opportunity with him. He’s pretty amazing. This is where I get too far into my own head and I start to hear a buzzing noise and my brain shuts off and reboots. This is where I sink into a marathon of playing XBox and watching YouTube Videos so I don’t have to think about it. Until he texts me that he’s thinking about me, or that I’m beautiful, or intoxicating or amazing. Then I just puddle and end up in a full blown sexy-talk-a-thon until we both are grinning like complete idiots.
Yeah. Feelings, man. Feelings are dumb. So why do they feel so damn good?!