The fact that I was in the same room as the woman that had once taken my Man’s attention from me. And all this new Handsome Stranger could do was keep his eyes fixated on me. It was a promising beginning. And that’s really all we want right? A sign from the Universe signalizing that as insignificant as we may feel we may just be Special enough to matter to that One person.
If not for a lifetime.
Maybe just for a moment.
And I suppose this is why I didn’t run the opposite direction when he stated matter of fact-ly, “Listen I just want someone to have fun with.”
He knew what he wanted from me. Men always do. And I knew this wasn’t what I was looking for but his words and history showed me that a man his age would never take me serious. And if he wanted fun.
I could use some fun myself too.
I knew it wouldn’t last from the very first kiss.
He positioned me in front of him very awkwardly as we looked at the view. Scripted. He reached for my attention. My neck turned uncomfortably as he reached for a kiss. A very dry, thin, old male kiss. It lasted as long as an awkward silence lasts and soon after we were riding off into the city. As awkward as it may have felt the excitement was still there. A man this gorgeous interested in ME. But deep down, I knew. I knew this wasn’t it. But I ignored the signs and gave into his scripted romance.
Holding a stranger’s hand wasn’t so bad as long as I didn’t walk through the city streets alone. Especially if that Stranger was as handsome as the one I had found.
“What do you like about me?” he’d ask.
“Your smile.” I’d answer.
We shared a meal and I could see the women unable to keep their gazes off his eyes. Everywhere we went he stood out. He belonged on the cover of a magazine. Not among these tangible beings . And definitely not with me. But he was the “Lucky One” to be in my presence.
He dropped me off at the front of my building late into the morning as a new day nearly woke. My lips permanently attached to his. My hand tracing an outline on his black slacks. A heavy suit covered his milky white skin and tattoos but I could feel the muscles through it. I went to bed fantasizing about what he’d feel like next to me. Both baring our souls.
One of my first weekends out in the city I saw her. Slightly heavier from recently giving birth, the woman who flirted shamelessly with the man I was in love with the previous year. The Universe has a way of pulling stunts like these on me. What were the odds that the first weekend I spent in the city I would walk into the bar she was in? In between all of the city lights. I remembered her. Suggestively arching her back — sticking her big bottom up in the air turning to her left to look at him flashing him a smile staying still for him–The man I had been with for the past two years. He sat there entertained by her assets. As I turned my back to both of them and focused on my task and tugged at my pants to prevent them from slipping down. I clenched my teeth and held back tears. “Not in public.” I thought. Men have a way of making us feel self conscious no matter how much we think we love ourselves.
He kept me in his pocket.
She had a boyfriend, a home, and two children of her own. When their brief episode that lasted weeks ended – – he came back to me and I received him with open arms. She left pregnant with the boyfriend that unsuspectingly waited for her in their own home. And now almost a year later there she was. Sitting in a bar with her best friend and two other men. They sat next to each other like sausages in a small booth. And I could not help but to laugh at the anger displayed on her face over seeing me in this crowded Irish bar. She could not keep her eyes off me. I had allowed all of that anger to exit my life when I left for the city running away from my home town. Taking a year off from the City I was back in search of a new life without hate, without the man who could not love me, and with all the experience to gain.
My idea to sit at the bar and watch the Superbowl and meet strangers and create connections was foiled by the Universe. I was sat in a long table full of nothing but couples, no one to talk to, and my past giving me dirty looks sitting right in front of me. An attentive door man kept my confidence afloat as he continuously checked in on me through out the night. I enjoyed myself and the cheering fans there and tried not to let anyone else’s pain or hatred avoid me from doing so. When the game was over I could not help but notice that this woman’s anger lingered. I decided to stay seated in case she had some ramifications to settle with me.
But she never stepped forward.
Content with my feast and the cheering fans. I decided to go home. Before I made my way out the doorman asked me to meet him outside where we exchanged numbers and decided a motorcycle ride would be a nice touch to end our night.
This man was captivating. Tall, slim, muscular, dark and thick black hair slicked back. I only hoped we were close in age.
“37.” he answered.
I was crushed.
Must I only be attracted to men nearly ten years older than me?
We met 15 minutes later across the street from the bar where I waited patiently in my car as he rode up on his Kawasaki black Cruiser. We greeted each other with a hug and he handed me an extra helmet.
We made small talk and I began placing the helmet on my head. I looked down to a decal on his cruiser ” Rides for Christ”
He interrupted my train of thought, ” Aren’t you afraid of strangers ?”
I held the helmet almost half way in and I decided, “Not tonight.”
He gave me instructions on how to get on the cruiser and we drove out of the city into the dark roads through the city’s zoo. We stopped off the side of the road and sat overlooking the city lights and the Moon floating above it. He motioned to the city and said to me, “There it is. Your City. Full of possibilities and opportunity. What are you going to do with yours?”
It all felt scheduled. And I couldn’t help but to think that he had done this before.
He kissed me. And he made it clear that he was looking for someone to have fun with. My heart sank. Any illusions of a future with this man had been fractured by those words that ran out his mouth. He had to come clean and confessed that he had a seven month old son. Only one thought ran through my mind. ” OH MY GOD! HE’S MARRIED!”
“No. I’m not married.” he stated.
I did not plan for this but I decided I could give this man a space in my life.
I will be changing names or creating nicknames for the people I have created relationships with. I will be changing any group names and associations to these said people. I want to keep some anonymity for myself and them. I may choose to share certain restaurants to share their delicious food at times if it does not have heavy connections to my relationships. Everything else I have been as honest and as descriptive as possible from my point of view.
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton