So there I was formatting my book and becoming annoyed when I made a simple wish, “I wish I had some pleasure.”
Writing is a pleasure, but formatting isn’t. LOL
And then within 10 minutes, my phone rang. It was him. I’ll give him a name because I think he deserves one, the Firecracker I met him a couple of weeks ago, maybe 3. I don’t remember. All I know is, I have done everything in my power to push him away. At first it was a game and then it became a conquest but he said, “I’m not a pushover.” It seems to be so.
So last night he called and said, “Hi.”
I returned his greeting.
“Why don’t you sound happy to hear from me? I feel like you’re drifting away.”
I sighed. “There’s nothing about our interaction that makes me want to do it again,” I explained.
I don’t know what he said after that, I really don’t but all I know is 10 minutes later I was hopping in the shower to give him another chance to spend time with me. This is a monumental moment because no man lasts more than 8 days with me. My max was 10. Usually at that point my sabotaging tactics have worked and I get them to see why they shouldn’t be with me.
This time when I opened his car door he smiled and said, “Hey beautiful.”
And the rest of the night went just like that, beautifully.
“I can not believe this,” I told him. “I had nothing but complaints about you and look at tonight. I have nothing but pleasure.”
He smiled. “I…I want to spend more time with you. I believe in adaptability. I adapt to the person I’m with.”
So he changed. He changed everything that I didn’t like. He did it because I was unwilling to accept less than what I really wanted. I refused to see him for more than a week and I haven’t called his phone in longer than that but he still tries. Why? Because, he says, he wants to see me.
He wants to touch me, that I do know.
Shit, I like it when he touches me. He knows just how to do it to make me squirm and he knows all the right talk to make me moan. He likes to hold me and when he does, I feel like I’m with a real man. Though he’s way younger than I am, something about his smile makes me grin.
I won’t let him come in my house. YOU know it’s because it’s a mess and I don’t feel like cleaning up, but he thinks I’m just being rigid. I think I’m a challenge to him. I also think he’s sincere and wants to enjoy love. I feel bad that he chose the wrong woman. I am not ready for that.
Secks I can handle, but only once. After that one time, I’m not interested anymore. I’ve already had secks with him and it was…fun. I never called him again. He called me back asking, “Why did you f** me?”
“Cuz I wanted to.”
“Thats not a good enough answer.”
“Well, I haven’t had secks in 7 months and…”
“And because I was there and I have a d*** you did it with me?”
“Well that and… Have you seen yourself naked? You’re fine as fuck!”
“So that’s it? You don’t feel anything else?”
“What am I supposed to feel?”
He went silent.
He says we have a connection. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I love it when he touches me but I don’t feel anything else. What am I missing?
But last night, I did it again. While we were sitting outside my place in his car after getting something to eat it happened. A full blown anxiety attack.
My anxiety attacks start as a pain in my heart. Then my mind takes over and I spiral into depression rapidly. All of a sudden images flash in my mind and I feel guilty for everything as though no decision I ever made was right and everything I’ve done wasn’t good enough.
While I’m thinking these thoughts there is an automatic response. Verbally I whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” over and over again.
Last night I started doing it.
“Stop that,” he said.
“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I refused to cry. I was trying to calm myself down.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I seem to be apologizing to whoever it was that I offended in my mind. I apologize for being me. I apologize for not being good enough. I apologize for not being strong enough. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
It’s a rapid succession of apologies and before I knew it he reached over and held me. My apologies slowly subsided and then he held my hands and looked into my eyes, “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s alright. You are fine.”
And then he kissed me, long and sweetly and I fought the kiss at first and then completely calmed down.
And we stood outside leaning on his car and he held me and held me. He squeezed me. He rubbed me. It felt so good to be touched. It’s a rare thing for me.
“Damn you fine!” he said and I laughed. That is so nice to hear from someone I 
think is fine too.
“This feels perfect,” he said. “You’re a perfect fit.”
I laughed. Dude is a trip.
“I want you to remember this feeling and when you think about it, I want you to remember that its ME who made you feel this way,” he told me.
Wow.
He’s going to make some woman, a very lucky lady.
It won’t be me though because even though I like looking at him and I love his touch, I have no other feeling.
I am dead in that department.