One day, the subject of my apparent solitude came into a conversation between my friend, his girlfriend and I. She has known me for years, and she had a good idea of what kind of person I was, what I stood for, and what I fell ill for. She knew this, and with such information she set out to introduce me to a co-worker of hers.
At first I was skeptical. I kept thinking that the idea of being set up on a date with someone would be ridiculous…I’m a grown man for god’s sake…or so the idea lingered. One day my friend called me up and invited me to go play pool at Mavericks, to which I accepted. It had been a really long time I had gone out even to a bar for just passing the time. It felt normal being the third wheel. It wasn’t anything new, I didn’t really mind that sense of being symmetrically displaced. But to my surprise, a girl came along, her friend.
She introduced herself, even gave me a handshake with an eye to eye look, to which I cordially responded to with:
“Nice to meet you Ana.”
And so the night started with such surprise. We kept playing pool, exchanging words and looks, gazes and everything that normal sexual attraction entitled. I liked her. She had a nice thick body, a slim face, and a beautiful radiating skin tone with a light mocha finish.
I was on roll with her, kept thinking to myself, man she’s right for me. Not only was she the right set, had the right skin tone and proportions but she also had this voice and awesome demeanor that kept drawing me into her with every look, with every word she spoke.
“What do you think of my friend?” My friend asked her. She immediately replied with a subtle caught off guard reaction:
“Well, I like him. He seems really nice,” she replied, turning around to look at me, impatiently and analytically waiting for my reply.
I really like you too Ana, I quickly responded, looking directly into her beautiful hazel eyes, drifting into me, waiting to be longed for. In all honestly, I spoke true, without malice.
We ended up leaving the bar before last call; she drove; I talked, maybe too much but I kept on. Upon reaching my friends place, one thing led to another. More beer was called for, and more shots as well.
Now, I don’t know if it’s just me, but I won’t jump off a bridge and say that every man is like me, but many like me would do the same. The situation seemed right; treated her right; and pushed myself towards her. I wasn’t really aggressive but the situation insinuated more than that. We got hot and heavy; she ended up on my lap, I reached in and kissed her gently, held her in place and pecked away not caring for what the day of tomorrow might bring. I was having fun, and most importantly, I was in tune.
We ended up like some do, not all, but most of all do, naked, lying on the floor after an apparent good time. Could be me, or maybe it was just her being nice, that after it all she said she enjoyed spending time with me, but the awkward end when she had to get up and make a run for work because she was running late wasn’t as much inspiring after the fact.
I failed to realize that sometimes even when things go beyond one’s emotional control there has to be some boundaries. It was easy for me to break the rules, but for her everything was simply different. We kept in touch, but she didn’t respond to me in the same way. Maybe she felt shameful, or maybe she didn’t know what to do, but we both knew that things would never be the same.
I was okay with it, never held it against her, just figured things would continue in such a way even if she might want to alter the initial contract: the human bond. And she did. Immediately after a day she told me that she enjoyed herself but that she would have wished she wouldn’t have made that mistake. A mistake? I never really saw it as that. We men have a different mind set, things just play out differently in our minds. She even told me that she would like to continue but would like to take it slow…to which I quickly replied, why can’t things be both?
Why couldn’t we get to know one another emotionally and physically? What was the impediment?
I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t keep seeing each other and feeding our souls emotional and physical stimulation. Maybe I was a different kind of breed, or maybe I was just like the rest and couldn’t see the bigger picture. For all I knew, the days afterwards were a result of her inability to fully express herself. Or I might just be wrong, it’s possible.
We saw each other a few times before she started playing the texting game, the one were the girl’s don’t respond to a man’s text after a day, making him go mad periodically. When fed up, I texted her that we were over, and she responded with:
And just like that everything was over in a quick dirty text with no emotion, making my mind ran wild.