Dave called me Monday evening after five long days of almost complete silence. Does a text msg on Sunday count as communication? I suppose in our technologically advanced world it does. No more waiting a month or two for the Pony Express to deliver the kiss of death letter. Dave came to pick up me and my son and he took us to dinner.
His excuses for not calling:
Busy. Work. Cell phone was dead. Busy. Gambling in Louisiana. Traveling. Missed you. Thought about you.
My responses to him:
I thought you were dead. I thought you were with another woman. You went back to your ex-wife. You're dead. Should I call the hospitals? You regret asking me to be your girlfriend. You're afraid of me. You think I'm too much for you.
Dave: I'm sure you preferred me dead than being with another woman, right?
Me: I can not tell a lie. I would rather be at your funeral than at your wedding.
Later, after dinner, drinks, and my son tucked safely in his bed.
Dave: You're so far above me. You're so great. Why don't you date more men? You have pursuers. I know. Who's calling you at 10:30pm? You still have feelings for your ex. You have a connection. I don't have an intellectual bone in my body. Why are you so nice to me? You've been nicer to me in one night than my ex-wife was to me in three years. You have the magic touch. You have the face of a model. You're great in bed. Where did you learn all those things that you do? Am I better than your ex-husband? Do I measure up? Do I please you?
Me: (Please note, things in parenthesis are my own thoughts, not things I actually said to him)
It doesn't matter that you're not an intellectual artist. I don't date more men because I'm too busy and broke to go out and meet anyone and when I do meet them they run away because they suffer from an inferiority complex around me. (Or he is a married man who I absolutely crave but can not have) Yes I have men who call me and who pursue me. (But not in the way you think) I have no feelings for my ex-husband. I'm nice, modest, and great in bed because I am happy to be alive and I exude my happiness and sensuality through every pore in my body. (I can not help it nor stop it. You might as well ask Niagra Falls to stop pouring over the majestic ridge it falls over. I am beautiful and confident in my size 16, 38c cup, voluptuous, well rounded, body. I have a mind sharper than a razor blade and it cuts just as deep when any part of me is hurt) Don't ask me where I learned the things I do in bed. I'm not going to tell you. (But let's just say there is something to earning your education by reading Anais Nin and Henry Miller, watching highly charged erotic films, not porn, there is a difference, and having a mind that grasps every event, past, present, and future. Plus I am a Scorpio and everyone knows that Scorpios are the best lovers in the whole zodiac)
Dave spent the night but I had to boot him out early the next day. When will I see him again? Dating is such a minefield. And I am sick of stepping on mines and blowing up. How many phone calls in one day is too many? How many days without a phone call is too much? When he spends the night do we make a date that very morning for our next encounter? Is he my boyfriend? He said he was. How much should I expect from my boyfriend of only two weeks? How about three? How about I just ask him to marry me and then I won't be so hung up on all these crazy thoughts? How about I just ask him to shack up with me? Or even better, why don't I just keep stepping on the damn mines and see which one will be the one to finally want to blow up with me. Like a supernova.
I haven't even told you the best part. Last week because I wasn't talking to Dave I called Michael W. We talked for almost an hour. I told him about Dave. And he told me what a lucky guy to have such a beautiful, young girl like me. But when I told him my trepeditions because of some of the things he said about me being so much smarter than him Michael W. told me how much he loved it that I was smarter than him. Then he said how much he loved being around me, how he learned so much from me, and that if he had stayed in Texas much longer he would have had an affair with me. My jaw hit the floor. He admitted it at last. My validation is here. Michael W. basically told me that he left Texas and moved to Florida to resist the temptaion I posed for him. Well, isn't that something? I've never driven a man across four state lines just to get away from me before. Then he goes on to say how an affair would have messed up everything, how we had to do the right thing, and something about God, yadda, yadda, yadda...
Oh hell, the wicked side of me wanted to jump on a plane and track his ass down in Florida and let whatever happened happen and to HELL with the consequences. He as much as admitted he was weak and if I showed up and tweaked him just right then he would have been jello in my arms. That is only if I never heard back from Dave. But I did. And I'm staying put. And I am going to give my relationship with Dave a chance. I feel I have to. Michael W. has to figure out just what he wants. If he wants to continue to suffer that train wreck that is his marriage for some lofty ideal of "it's the right thing to do because of my children, God, blah, blah, blah..." then so be it. I gave up on those lofty feelings a long time ago and became a little selfish. You have to otherwise you will lose your mind. And he is close to losing his but he won't admit it, idiot. If Michael W. showed up on my doorstep tomorrow, bags in hand, and divorce papers freshly printed then I would accept him. But I am not waiting for him as he vacillates between me and his wife. He has to decide. I have already decided. And the window of opportunity is closing. When it shuts only a blow torch will get it open. Let's see if Michael W. has the cojones to follow his heart.
In the meantime I do like Dave very much. I'm happy to be in a relationship with him. It's still very new so I am not all twittery in my belly like some 16-year old on her first date. I am trying to relax. The sex with Dave is great. But it's only been twice and in the comfort of my home. Let's see how he rolls out in the wild. On a sandy beach. In the breaking surf. Dancing with the temptress (that's me) under the pale of the full moonlight. Oh yeah, that's right. He doesn't know yet about my witchy ways. Hmm...I told Michael Angel all about my new relationship and he is happy for me. Of course that also means our fun and games have come to a stop but he did ask me "So you're planning on bombing him bit by bit with all your wild ways instead of just nuking him all at once?" He makes me sound so bad. I can't help what I am. Men can't help falling for me. I am just a girl searching for love. And when it hits, oh my, when it hits, the recent hurricanes have nothing on me. One day I will find true love. But will true love be strong enough to take me on?
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