The Bachelor had invited me over to "drink wine and watch a movie"...apparently even though I had aged 10 years since I last dated, the code words for "hook up" were still the same, but this time instead of going to his parents basement we would be in his house.
I brought wine. I needed to make sure I could drink away my terror and what if what he didn't have what I liked? This was another sign that I am officially a grown up. In high school I once drank a Snapple bottle of Sambuca I stole from a friends parent's liquor cabinet just to get drunk. Not too picky I suppose.
I walked into his house, his little house...he's only one person remember. It was so....clean....where was all his stuff--I thought? Toys, clutter, magazines...of course there was a Yankees blanket, one of those horrible posters on the wall with an eagle that says courage and surround sound...yup...he was definitely a bachelor.
We sat, drank wine, watched a basketball game and flirted with each other...I patiently waited for him to kiss me...
I got up to refill my drink and opened the fridge to find yet another clue that I was in fact about to sleep with "The Bachelor"...the fridge was empty...I mean, he had like six things in there...almond milk, some muscle drink, a few beers and ketchup...
"Ummmmm, do you have an eating disorder you need to tell me about?" (Don't forget I was a little over-served at this point in the night) "No, what do you mean?" "Where is all your food?" "I'm a bachelor..." apparently bachelors don't eat and they self identify as bachelors too.
So we did eventually kiss and moved into the bedroom where I was trying to mentally prepare myself for what was about to happen....It did...and it physically felt incredible, like an explosion! I was thrilled. He got up to use the bathroom and as I laid in his bed I realized I was crying. Just a single tear, rolling down my cheek. I also realized I had about 10 seconds to get my emotions in check before he would come back and see a weeping 33 year old single mother in his very bachelor-ish bed (bad tan comforter, thin pillows etc.)
A swarm of questions rushed through my mind."Did you not want that? Was it bad? Do you feel slutty? Are you scared you will never hear from him again?"
But it was none of those things. It was in fact yet another "first".. I had experienced so many "firsts" in the months since Mr. Little had moved out…move on... but this was a big one. I had not been naked with another man in 10 years. No one had touched me, kissed me, felt me, in over a decade and here I was...
I'm sure he doesn't realize it (I don't think his brain works that way), but The Bachelor will always hold a special place in my journey for that very reason. He made me feel sexy and like a woman again for the first time in a long time.
In classic me fashion I spazzed out, jumped up, quickly got dressed and said I needed to leave. He looked surprised, but walked me to the door where we exchanged in a long, sensual kiss goodbye.
I drove home re-playing the entire scene in my head and it gave me chills up and down my entire body. I also talked myself down off the ledge and into reality where I could potentially never hear from this person again. He got what he wanted and ultimately so did I and I had made the decision that would be ok.
The next morning he texted me...
No comments:
Post a Comment